“Better than a bowling alley. Remember that weird little town in Colorado?” Nate chuckled dryly.
“Shit, Nattie, you remember the bar in New York?” That one was imprinted on his brain indelibly.
Nate hooted. “Oh, God. Telling Jason Scott he couldn’t wear a gimme cap because it was a gang symbol.”
“Yeah, he expressed his position on both the dress code and the suggestion that he was in a gang real clear.” Like with both fists.
“You remember how Beau threw in and broke faces? That was before they got weird.”
“Yeah, they worked some of that shit out, I think, sorta.” He thought. The Cajun was a good’un. One of the best of them. Beau had to stop being young and stupid and Jase was still sowing wild oats back then. Two different places in life.
Coke had never been that young.
He looked out the window, letting that thought go. He had enough regrets.
Nate pulled into the empty lot of the pool place, the neon open sign blinking madly.
“Let’s go shoot some pool, Nattie.” Hell, he really just wanted the beer.
“You got it, Hoss. I’ll even buy the first round.” Nate grinned and hopped out of the truck, then headed inside. Sometimes it was good to have such an uncomplicated best friend.
Shit, sometimes? He gave thanks for Nattie every day.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Dillon found himself alone in the kitchen about half an hour after Coke and Nate left. Wow. Alone. Quiet. In the kitchen.
It must be the end of days.
It was getting to be time to take Coke away, just somewhere for a few days before the season started. Hell, Coke’s house wasn’t far, a few hours. They could go and sleep for a week.
Dillon stretched tall, arms over his head, then swooped into a forward fold before stretching out into downward dog. He was learning yoga from a streaming program on his tablet.
It was surprisingly challenging and he wavered between asking Coke to try it and hiding the idea of it from his stiff, solid lover so Coke didn’t hurt himself trying. Poor Coke. He was so not bendy…
“Uh, did you lose something, honey?”
Dillon popped up at the words to see Brenda, Jason Scott’s mom, staring at him. “Nope. Coffee?”
“You aren’t going to find the coffee down there, honey.”
He chuckled. “I was just stretching. I mean would you like a cup?”
“No thank you. I’m coffeed out.” She came to sit, though, her hand landing on the table with atink. “Lord, I’m not used to wearing a ring on that finger, yet. It’s been a long time.”
“Congratulations.” He was pretty sure he and Coke had sent a gift.
“Thank you. How’s Coke holding up?”
“Tired. A little sore.” Frankly, Dillon thought Coke was worn to the bone.
“Yeah. He takes everything personal.”
“He does.” Dillon tilted his head. “You’ve known him a long time.”
“Since he was a teenager, yes, sir.”
“Okay.” Dillon sat across from her at the table. “So, what’s the deal with his family? Did they have a big falling out or something? He never talks about them.”
