“He said he doesn’t feel anything for you? Asshole,” Kyle scoffed.

“Right,” RB agreed instantly, leaning in from the other side of the sofa. “You’d tell us the same if someone said that to us. You have in the past.”

River resisted the urge to defend Zeph. The instinct prickled inside his brain, his gut, his very fingers and toes. He wanted to jump to Zeph’s defense and explain it away, but Kyle and RB weren’t going to let him do that.

It hurt to be forced to admit that Zeph had hurt him, but that sting of rejection was nothing compared to the rest of it.

“So I moped around and ordered pizza for myself, and when it came… it wasn’t the pizza. It was the stalker. He tried to shove his way inside, he hit me… he said creepy shit, like I said… but I kicked him out and called the cops.”

“Fuck,” Kyle hissed. “You could have told us about him. We could keep you company.”

River shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine. It didn’t shake me that much,” he fibbed. “Cops said they’re looking for footage and took a description and everything. They’re taking it a little more seriously than the Vegas one, at least. And he said he’ll call the guys in Vegas and see what they’ve turned up there.”

“If anything,” RB muttered.

River was inclined to agree. He was sure hell would freeze over before they’d do anything about a stalker without a physical attack to investigate, and maybe even after that. Still, he shrugged. “Worth a try. Someone has to know the guy. Oh, Jesus. The creepiest part… while I called the cops he was all quiet outside, and I looked out but I couldn’t really see anything, it was weird. I figured he was covering the peephole.”

The other two were holding their breath, waiting on him.

River’s gaze strayed to the door, where the hole was covered with tape and cardboard now. He was figuring out how to add metal to that. “But he’d… unscrewed the peephole to look through.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Kyle hissed. “Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah. Hopefully the cops got fingerprints from the door or something, at least.” River drew a breath, about to explain how the report had gone, when there was a knock on the door.

He flinched without meaning to, then winced. That wouldn’t exactly persuade either of his friends that he wasn’t torn up about it.

Kyle eyed him as he stood, clearly choosing not to address it at that moment. “I’ll get it.”

River couldn’t argue that. He just watched, fingers curled tightly with nerves, until the door opened.

Unmistakable even from a distance, Zeph’s broad frame filled the doorway.

River’s first instinct was joy, and then he remembered. The moment his heart sank was… crushing in itself. Now he wasn’t just sad about the not-breakup, but about the split-second where Zeph’s arrival had meant…

What? Safety? Warmth? Love?

Shit.

“Now isn’t a good time,” Kyle began.

River pushed himself to his feet to interrupt his friend, against his better instinct. Maybe having Zeph there would make him feel like it would have days ago, if only for a few minutes. “No, come in.”

Even from behind, River could read Kyle’s body language. His best friend stayed in the doorway just long enough to make it clear he wasn’t happy Zeph was coming in, and he’d sooner see him leave, before stepping back and holding the door open for him.

Zeph thanked him in a murmur, and River followed Zeph’s gaze to RB.

His other best friend had his arms folded coolly as he nodded to acknowledge Zeph.

Oh, shit, they’re giving him the bad cop, bad cop treatment.

River’s lips twitched slightly. He couldn’t say part of him wasn’t pleased about that.

“What are you doing here?” River asked, meeting Zeph as Kyle brushed past him to sit down. They stood near the kitchen table, River fidgeting with the zipper on his sweater.

“Uh, I heard about what happened,” Zeph waved a hand toward River, and River recognized the up-and-down sweep of a man looking him over for injuries. “I… shouldn’t have phrased things the way I did yesterday. I care about you, and, uh, I wanna help out.”

River was shocked enough for a moment to be rooted to the spot. For Zeph, saying that in words and not actions was basically a wedding vow… or an apology.

“How? The guy’s gone,” River shook his head. “And he probably won’t try again knowing the cops are involved. Not the same way, at least.”

“Yeah, but he could follow you anywhere,” Zeph stressed, leaning forward. “I can teach you self-defense. Not that you don’t know some, but… properly. The techniques the pros use.”

River recoiled. This was going south from the apology Zeph had been seemingly offering moments ago. He sure as fuck didn’t want Zeph’s pity, or being taken care of like he couldn’t handle himself. “No. I don’t need help.”

Zeph opened his mouth, then sighed. “Don’t do that—”

“I took care of myself yesterday.” River walked toward Zeph, and just as he’d thought, Zeph didn’t hold his ground. He backed down, not letting River break his personal space bubble.

And that was exactly what River had expected, too. He especially didn’t want to be taken care of by Zeph, of all people, when… it was totally irrational post-not-breakup hormones, but River wanted all or nothing.

Zeph had rejected all, and River had spent the last day coming to terms with that.

“It’s a standing offer.” Zeph took the hint, though, and strolled for the door, letting River see him out.

“It can stand somewhere else.”

“River—”

“Thanks for checking in on me. He didn’t hurt me,” River told Zeph firmly. “I kicked him out. The cops are identifying him. It’s over.”

It sure as fuck was over, in every sense. River didn’t need anyone. In the back of his mind, River knew damn well he wasn’t trying to convince others yet.

He had to start by convincing himself.