“Maybe we can have lunch or dinner?” the older man asked, hope in his eyes.
Ian shook his head. “Like I said, I’ve got meetings.”
Shadows crossed his father’s face, and Ian did his best not to feel guilty.
“Fine, but I’ll keep trying, you know.”
Ian straightened his shoulders. “It’s too late for that too.” He turned away and stepped toward the restaurant entrance when he heard his name being called and turned.
This time it was Alex rushing to catch up to him.
His father hadn’t left, and he greeted his other son, not bothering to excuse himself as Alex strode up to Ian.
“You’re such a selfish prick,” Alex said, getting into his face. “Would it have killed you to return her phone calls and see what she had to say?”
Ian immediately knew he was talking about Riley. “You’re the one who made it clear she should have nothing to do with me, so what’s up your ass now?”
“She left you a message, right? Said she had something important to discuss? And you couldn’t be bothered to call?” Alex asked, jaw held tight.
In that instant, Ian saw shades of his father in Alex’s younger face. It had been awhile since the blood connection between them had hit him so strongly. And damn but it hurt.
“Would one of you tell me what the hell is going on?” Robert asked, interrupting them.
Alex straightened his shoulders. “Riley called him this week. She needed a favor and asked him to call her back. He didn’t.”
“I was busy,” Ian said, suddenly feeling a combination of guilt and overriding concern. “It’s draft week, not that I owe you an explanation. Besides, you made it clear I should back off.” Ian wasn’t above sharing the blame when warranted.
Alex ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the bulging muscles in his neck. “She’s my best friend. Has been since we were kids.”
“What did she need from me?” Ian asked, ignoring any reference to how close Riley and Alex were. Even if it was friendship, it had come between Ian and the woman he wanted. He found it difficult to contain his jealousy.
Alex paused, looking torn, before he said, “It’s not my story to tell, and besides, it’s too late anyway.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Ian asked.
“Is Riley okay?” Robert demanded. “I care about that girl like a daughter.”
“As if you don’t have enough of those,” Ian muttered.
His father’s face blanched, his skin color leaching out. “She practically lived in our house growing up. If something’s wrong, I want to know.”
“You know Riley. She’s always okay or pretends to be,” Alex said. “She’s independent and proud and you know it. You also know why. It took enough for her to call him.” Alex jerked a finger at Ian.
“But if one of us can help—” Robert said, only to be cut off by the abrupt swinging of Alex’s hand.
“Let her handle her own shit. I’ve learned it’s the only way to keep her in my life.”
Alex turned back to Ian. “I came here because I was furious, and you deserved to know you f**ked up. But it’s too late now. There’s nothing anyone can do.”
There were so many questions raised by Alex’s statement Ian didn’t know where to begin. From her always pretending to be okay, to her being proud and independent, Alex and their father were privy to why. Ian wasn’t.
But he wanted to know. Needed to understand her even if it meant digging deeper than she’d be comfortable with. He was also smart enough not to ask questions his half brother wouldn’t answer.
“Give me her number,” Ian said. “The least I can do is apologize.”
Alex scowled at him. “Go to hell. She doesn’t need your help anymore. And she sure as hell doesn’t need to be another one of your conquests.”
“Hey.” Ian grabbed his shoulder.