Alexander had never been a man who kept friends.
The thought came to him suddenly, unbidden, as he watched the glow of the restaurant's lamps catch on Lana's hair. Friends had always been expendable—liabilities disguised as companions. His life had been built on distance, on the quiet comfort of knowing no one could betray him if no one was allowed close.
He kept his circle tight. He kept his circle narrow, his trust narrower still. Loyalty was a currency he spent sparingly, and intimacy-of any kind-was a debt he refused to owe. And yet, here he was, sitting across from her, asking for something he'd never asked of anyone.
Friendship.
