Thatasshole. I swear, I’m not one to hold a grudge, but running into Roly the day after yet another embarrassing Grindr date was more than I could bear. That man’s timing is and always has been the absolute worst, and it’s annoying as hell that theone guyI get to hate with impunity is the one guy who’s actually flirted with me.
“Heath.Heath. I’m really, really sorry. Please don’t pull out of the investments with Pete and Scout. Please, I’ll do anything. I’m so sorry.”
I have the brief thought that it’s funny that Roly and I both tease our mutual friend Jean-Pierre with the same nickname. Refocusing on the little shit, I snap out, “That’s business, this is personal, and I don’t factor in fuckboys when making financial decisions.”
“Oh.”
I was hoping to enjoy a sense of righteous retribution when my verbal punch lands, but this crestfallen look he’s trying to hide just makes me feel like a petulant, immature ass.
Being an adult sucks.
And, just being honest here, Ididfactor in the reality that he and Nick run that gym like a Swiss timepiece. Not that I’d tell him that.
He’s physically quick like I remember and slinks under the counter, then opens the door for me, looking thoroughly chastised. “I really am sorry,” he mumbles.
“Whatever, Roly. Just stay in your lane and we’ll be fine.”
I have the strongest urge to comfort the guy, and I’m just glad that I have an armful of pizzas that prevent me from hugging him.
Which is so fucking irritating I’d like to pop him in the mouth.
Just as I’ve put away the pizzas and settled into the front seat, a call from Ronan comes through the Bluetooth.
“Where y’at, brother?” he asks, his tone affectionate.
Ronan is technically my stepbrother, but we bonded over the fact that our parents upended both of our lives with their toxic, whirlwind romance. Less than six months after Mom and I’d put my dad into the ground, I was standing next to my new insta-family in a church, all of my shit still in a moving van. He and I shared awhat-in-the-entire-fuck-is-thislook that cemented our brotherhood from that day on.
I answer, “Just picked up the pizzas, about to head over. Guess who was in the shop this morning, calling meHeavylike it was no big deal?”
After a pause, Ronan’s incredulous voice answers, “Nofucking way. He didnotjust say that to you.” Ronan and my now-ex-wife, Ashley, aside from being my two best friends in the world, were the only ones who knew how much Roly had tortured me during high school.
“Yep. Think I put the fear of god into him.”
We both laugh, and I try to forget Roly’s downturned mouth.
“Yes! Payback is so sweet!”
“Eh, it made him sad, and—”
“Goddammit to hell,” Ronan interrupts, his wry humor crystal clear on these fancy speakers. “You felt sorry for him, didn’t you?”
Sigh. “Maybe. It’s annoying, but he did seem happy to see me, at least before I took him down several notches. And he says that they call him Bear Killer.”
Ronan snorts. “What a tool.”
“Yep. By the way, why are you calling me?” I ask, pulling onto Braker and whistling through my teeth at how busy this road has gotten.
“Oh, yeah. Ashley asked me to have you pick up some ice on your way over.”
Our middle daughter, Molly, is ten today, and we’re having a big shindig at Ashley’s house for the occasion. Damn, the years are flying by.
“Tell her to check the coolers on the side of the garage. Already dropped it off this morning.”
I hear him crunch through the grass and find the coolers in question. “Awesome. Hey, how’d the date go last night?”
I make an aggrieved noise from the back of my throat, and his chuckle fills my car in hi-def surround sound.
“I ordered the shrimp, and he grabbed his Etsy mala beads like a Southern woman clutches her pearls.”
