He stares at me with his pretty blue eyes. “It’s true. Things were great when the three of us were friends.”
That part is true, but it also isn’t fair for Flynn totake the blame for the shift in dynamics. Not that I can say that, without throwing Billy under the bus. Would it help if I told Flynn the truth? If I did, he would understand the real reason that I was so pissed off and hurt. No. It would hurt him. But I need to saysomething.
“I was a jealous arsehole, that’s all.”
He blinks. “Jealous? Because I took your twin from you?”
No. “Yeah, something like that.” I’m screwing this up.
“I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t need to apologise, but again, I can’t explain that without painting Billy as the villain in our story, which will cause Flynn pain.
“You fell for each other. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
“How many twenty-two-year-olds can say they’ve already been married and divorced?” He sounds glum, not that I can blame him.
“How’s your grandma?” Smooth change of subject there, Jimmy.
“She’s good. I moved in with her for a while after Billy and I broke up.” He tilts his head. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”
“Billy did mention it.” About an hour ago.
“That’s how I got the job on Angus’ dad’s farm.”
“Oh?”
“Her neighbour is Angus’ grandma.”
“Really?”
Flynn nods. “She’s been unwell for a while and her daughter—Angus’ mum—has been staying with her to take care of her.”
I knew that. It sucks for Angus that his mum hasn’t been around much the last few months, as she’s a hundred times more supportive than his dad is.
“She got talking to grandma, found out I was looking for a job on a farm, and pretty much hired me on the spot.”
“It’s a small world. What are the odds of you meeting someone connected to me in a roundabout kind of way?”
He shrugs. “Slim? As I said, the universe wants to—” He presses his lips into a thin line.
“Thrust us together?” I add a jokey tone to my voice.
Flynn laughs nervously. “Yeah.” He finishes the warm milk and puts the mug on the breakfast bar with a resounding thud. “I should go. I’m calm enough to drive.”
I don’t want him to go.
“Uh, sure. I’m not throwing you out, though. It’s been ages since we talked. That’s my fault for being a jerk after you got together with Billy. But it would be nice to catch up some more, if you can stand my company for a bit longer?”
His expression wavers between uncertainty and doubt.
“I can make more warm milk.”
He laughs. “That might make me too sleepy to drive.”
“And I bet you have a crazy early start in the morning.”
Before Flynn took over, Angus always started the day tired, because he was up at the crack of dawn—or earlier in the winter—to help his dad milk the cows. Then, most afternoons, he’d go straight back to the farm to do it all again. Thursdays were the exception, because we always had a Barbell Society social. It’s weird that Angus, who grew up on a farm, can’t wait to get away from that life, whereas Flynn, who’s a certified city boy, wants to embrace it to the full.
