I feel like an asshole, suddenly realizing what my bitching must sound like from his perspective —oh, poor me, whining about being a freaking millionaire.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
“For what?”
I shrug. “Oh, I don’t even know. My mind is all over the place. I mean — shit, Errol. I rented a car and drove up here without any kind of a plan atall. I didn’t even make a hotel reservation ahead of time!” I let out a bitter laugh. “It’s a good metaphor for my entire fucking life right now.”
Errol gets a contemplative look on his face. “So where are you staying, then?”
“One of those extended-stay hotels out by the airport. It’s… fine, I guess.”
“I told you I inherited my Gran’s house, right?”
That’s out-of-the-blue. “Yeah.” I nod. My brain starts to turn over Errol’s non-sequitur, my thoughts rapidly gaining speed until my mind is spinning…He can’t — he’s not going to —
“Would you want to stay with me?”
It’s only after Errol says the words that the full weight of how badly I’d wanted to hear them crashes down on me. I blow out a sigh of relief.
“Um, I guess —I mean, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Errol looks like he’s elated and trying to hide it. “Of course not. Staying in a crappy hotel by yourself after a breakup sounds terrible. Come on over to my place and you can distract yourself. Do you still play video games?”
“Not so much anymore,” I admit. “If I’m in front of a screen, I’m working.” I have no idea what I’m going to do with myself now that I don’t have to do that anymore.
Errol gives me a conspiratorial little grin. “That’s OK. I’m sure we can find ways to entertain ourselves.” I smirk and he flushes. “You know, just to get your mind off Eliza.”
I’m suddenly and intensely grateful for Errol. I might be stumbling around in the wilderness, but at least I’ve got my best friend by my side again. “You’re aces —you know that? A real lifesaver.” I reach my hand out for a fist bump and Errol doesn’t leave me hanging.
He disappears into the kitchen. There’s a smile on his face when he returns a minute later. “OK, you don’t need to be wasting all day sitting in a bar. We can get out of here in just a few.”
I look at the time. “Is your shift over?”
“Nope. But I just got in touch with my boss, AJ — he owns the place and lives upstairs — and asked if he could come in and cover the rest of my shift for me.” As my eyebrows raise, he quickly adds, “It’s OK —I literallyneverdo this, and I’m always willing to come in if he’s in a pinch, so it’s not a big deal.”
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth. Told him my best friend made a surprise reappearance and needed a place to land after a breakup.” He frowns a little. “I hope you don’t mind that I mentioned that. It was kind of important, and I might’ve exaggerated your emotional statejuuusta little, so, I don’t know — maybe rub your eyes or look really sad or something when you see him.”
“Got it.” Even though I actuallycouldcry from thinking about this whole fucked-up situation, I don’t want to admit that to Errol. The silence between us feels too big, and I realize what’s missing.
“Thanks, man. Really — thank you.” The words don’t seem like enough, but I don’t have any others.
Errol comes around from behind the bar and wordlessly wraps me in a warm, solid embrace. Logically, my brain tells me this should feel strange. But it’s Errol, so it’s OK. Familiar. Safe. “Hey, I got you, Ran,” he says in my ear.
A wave of gratitude sweeps through me. “I know you do. I appreciate you.” As I hug Errol back, I catch a whiff of cologne, something musky and amber-ish. Huh. Errol didn’t strike me as being a cologne guy.
The realization that he might have grown up to become someone unfamiliar is strange and unsettling. We were so close for so long, it felt like we knew each other’s thoughts. My brain spins, trying to reconcile the memory of the boy I used to know with this broad-shouldered man whose arms are now around me.
My jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a noise behind us. Errol releases me and takes a step back as a guy who I guess is AJ comes through the swinging door that leads to the kitchen. He looks like a Viking, with a dirty-blond ponytail and a beard to match. Both brawny arms are tattooed from his knuckles all the way up to where they’re covered by his T-shirt.
“Hey, thankssomuch for coming in,” Errol greets him. “I seriously owe you one. This is Ran,” he says, indicating me with a wave of his hand before turning towards me. “Ran, this is AJ —owner of Finnegan’s Wake and all-around good guy.”
“No problem, pal,” AJ says as he walks up to us. “You’ve always been willing to step up, so I don’t mind repaying thefavor.” He approaches me and extends a hand that’s just as big as the rest of him. “Nice to meet you, dude.”
“Likewise,” I tell him. “So, AJ… Finnegan?”
AJ lets out a guffaw. “Hardly. Do I look Irish?” he says with a snicker. I have to admit that no, he does not. “AJ Hansen. I bought the bar from Finnegan almost five years ago now. Scraped up every cent I had and sold my house to buy it off him.”
