“Please come over tonight,” Devon pleaded. “It’s been months since you’ve been by.”
“I’m working.”
“You’re a liar,” Devon called him out. “You’re closing the shop because it’s five and you’re meticulous with your scheduling. You’ve probably already flipped the closed sign and locked the door.”
Cooper adjusted his glasses and glared at the latched deadbolt. “So?”
“You know what today is, right?”
“Your birthday,” he answered.
“Not just any birthday,” Devon sing-songed.
“You’re forty.”
“I’m twentytwice,” Devon corrected. “And I’m having a party and I want you to be there.”
“If you’re only twenty, there won’t even be booze.” Cooper turned off the lights and snaked his way between the display tables toward the back of the store. He slipped into the office and collapsed into his years-old chair. It creaked beneath his weight, but held. Cooper shuffled the mouse around the desk until the screen came to life, the monitor filled with the live security camera feeds of the stock room, the back door, and the cash register.
There wasn’t really a need for the cameras. No one was going to steal anything that mattered, and he rarely had help around the store. The people he did hire were people he trusted, people who had come recommended. The cameras were just a thing he’d never bothered to get rid of. Hell, they hadn’t even worked until two years ago when he finally got bored one day and fixed the wiring.
“Twenty twice,” Devon reiterated.
“You’re so old.” Cooper turned off the computer and sighed.
“And you’re practically a baby.”
“I’m thirty-five.”
“More than half a decade younger than me,” Devon reminded him.
Cooper blew out a breath, unwilling to admit that in the last decade he’d become complacent, letting life pass him by. He’d found comfort in the things he did have, in the things that mattered, and he hadn’t looked for more. Cooper had to acknowledge that if he’d been open to new ideas, new people…maybe his life would have been different. Maybe it could stillbedifferent, but…
“Semantics,” he grumbled.
“So, you’ll come?”
“Devon.”
“You can’t hermit forever,” Devon countered. “The scheduling is getting tedious keeping the two of you separate. Besides, I know you’ve made me a present and I want to try it out tonight.”
“I have made you a present,” he confirmed, ignoring the barb about scheduling. “But you don’t even know what it is.”
“I know if you made it, it’s perfect. All my favorite toys are from you, and all my play partners' favorite toys are from you, too.”
“Are you trying to make me blush?” he asked, heat warming his cheeks.
“I’m just being honest with you, Coop. You’re good at what you do, and you’re a good friend. And it’s my birthday, and I miss you.”
“I saw you two weeks ago,” he reminded.
“When was the last time you came to a party?”
Cooper shoved out of the chair and flipped off the lights. He locked up the shop and slipped out the back door, his car parked behind the dumpster in the alleyway.
“I don’t know,” he said, knowing full well that Devondidknow andwouldtell him.
“It’s been a year and a half.”
