Page 57 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

A door opened.

“What?”

Ronan could hear him but not see him.

“You know Lucas Harper?”

Silence. Brief. Maybe one second.

“Yeah.”

Ronan stared toward the landing.

“You heard?”

Elliot appeared at the top of the stairs. He'd changed into black sweatpants and a dark green hoodie. His hair was still damp around the temples from the rain, although Ronan hadn't heard the shower running.

“Heard what?”

“Apparently nobody can find him.”

Elliot descended. His expression gave nothing away. That wasn't unusual. Not yet.

“Since when?”

“Last night.”

Elliot reached the bottom.

“Who told you?”

“Dylan.”

Something moved across Elliot's face. There. Gone. Ronan caught it anyway.

“Of course.”

“Don't.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“You didn't need to.” Elliot walked into the kitchen. His eyes dropped to the architecture model. Then the broken piece of basswood. “You snapped it.” “Thank you.” “You spent forty minutes measuring that.” “Again. Thank you.” Elliot picked up the broken strip. Ronan held out his hand. “Don't.” Elliot gave it to him. “Why can't anyone find Lucas?” “I don't know.” “Phone?” “Off.” “Car?” “At home.” Elliot leaned against the island. “Roommate?” “Hasn't seen him.” Ronan watched him. Elliot looked interested. Not afraid. Not upset. Interested. Same as Mason. Ronan hated that his mind supplied the comparison. “What?” Elliot asked. “Nothing.” “There it is.” “What?” “You're staring at me.” “So?” “So why?” Ronan looked down at the model. “Just weird.” “What is?” “Another guy from Bellweather disappearing.” Elliot folded his arms. “He's probably not missing.” “Dylan thinks he is.” “Dylan thinks a lot of things.” “You really hate him.” “I don't hate him.” “You do.” Elliot smiled faintly. “Maybe a little.”

Ronan shook his head. He reached for another strip of basswood. His thumb stuck slightly to it.

“Fuck.”

Elliot laughed.

“You glued yourself.”

“Apparently.”

“Give me your hand.”

“No.”

“Ronan.”