"She'll love it. You're talented as fuck."
"Language," I tease, remembering the rule that maybe lasted for a damn week, and he laughs.
"You sound like my mom."
"Your mom is a wise woman."
We sit in silence for a moment, drinking our beers, watching the dust motes drift through the afternoon sunlight.
This is nice.
Normal.
The kind of easy friendship I've missed since moving away.
Njal and Bjorn were constants in my childhood— the partners in crime who always had my back.
But something feels different today.
Njal keeps glancing at me, then looking away.
His knee won't stop bouncing.
He's picking at the label on his beer bottle, shredding it into tiny pieces.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Yeah. Fine." He takes a long pull of his beer. "Actually, no. There's something I wanted to talk to you about."
"Okay..."
He shifts on the couch, turning to face me, and there's something in his expression I've never seen before.
Something serious and a little vulnerable.
Njal is always the joker, always the one with a quip or a smartass comment.
Seeing him like this—earnest and exposed—makes my stomach clench with unease.
"Look, I know you've got this thing with the Brotherhood guy. And I'm not trying to start drama or mess with whatever you two have going on." He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "But when you're done with your bodyguard, there are some people here who would like a shot with you. A real one."
My stomach drops. "Njal..."
"I'm one of them." He says it quickly, like ripping off a bandage. "I've had feelings for you for a while, Dalla. Since before you left for Jacksonville. Maybe even longer than that—I don't know, it's hard to pinpoint when exactly it changed from 'she's like my sister' to 'I think about her all the time.'" He runs a hand through his damp hair, frustrated. "I never said anything because the timing was never right, and I had that thing with your sister for a bit, and then you were gone, and now you're back but you're with him, and I just—" He exhales. "I needed you to know. In case things don't work out."
I don't know what to say, but I don’t think there’s anything I can say.
Njal is one of my oldest friends, and I know he’s bi-polar.
He goes from high-highs to low-lows, and he was with Revna for a bit.
We grew up together, got into trouble together, shared secrets and inside jokes and a thousand childhood memories.
I love him—but not like that. I've never thought of him like that.
"I'm flattered," I say carefully. "Really, I am. But I'm happy with RJ. I care about him. A lot."
"I know." His smile is sad, and it breaks my heart a little. "I can see it when you look at him. The way your whole face changes. That's why I'm not pushing. I just wanted to put it out there. Cards on the table."
