“If you want to be friends—real friends—you can’t manhandle me like that anymore.” His face remains unreadable. “I thought you didn’t want to be my friend.” “Ehh, I changed my mind.” “Why?” “Because the only other friend you have in town is my five-year-old daughter, and frankly, that’s kind of sad.” The look on his face widens the pit in my stomach. “I don’t need a pity friend.” “Too bad. It’s a bribe-one-get-one Castillo special.”
