And him. Standing on the edges, one foot in and one foot out, still not sure where he belonged.
"Hey." Tessa appeared at his elbow, her own coffee cradled in both hands. "You okay? You've got that look."
"What look?"
"The one where you're thinking too hard and not talking about it."
He huffed a laugh. "You've known me for nine weeks. How do you already read me that well?"
"I'm a trauma surgeon. Reading people is part of the job." She bumped her shoulder against his arm. "Also, you're not that complicated."
"Ouch."
"I meant it as a compliment." She took a sip of coffee, watching him over the rim. "You feel things deeply, but you don't hide them as well as you think you do. At least not from people who are paying attention."
Brian looked back at the shop, at Hank explaining the intricacies of a vintage transmission to Sabrina while Colby made increasingly terrible jokes in the background. "This was supposed to be mine too," he said quietly. "The shop. We talked about it for years. The three of us, partners, building something together."
"What happened?"
"Lily happened." He said the name without flinching this time. Progress. "After she died, I couldn't... I couldn't be around anything that reminded me of who I used to be. The shop was part of that life. The life where I was good at saving people, where I had something to offer."
"So you walked away."
"I ran away. There's a difference." He took a long drink of coffee, letting the bitterness ground him. "They offered to wait. Hank and Colby. They said they'd hold my share, keep my name on the paperwork, and give me time to figure things out. But I told them to go ahead without me. I didn't think I'd ever be ready."
"And now?"
He was quiet for a moment, watching Colby demonstrate the proper way to torque a bolt while Sabrina pretended to take notes on her phone. "Now I'm not sure. Part of me wants to walk in there and pick up a wrench like the last two years never happened. Part of me feels like I lost the right to be part of this when I left."
"Have you asked them how they feel about it?"
"I don't have to. They've asked me a dozen times to come back in. Every time I visit, Hank points out some project that 'could really use another set of hands.' Colby keeps leaving tools at my place like a cat leaving dead birds."
Tessa laughed, the sound bright in the oil-scented air. "That's actually kind of sweet. In a weird, masculine way."
"That's what I'm saying. They want me here. They've always wanted me here. The only person standing in the way is me."
"Then stop standing in the way." She said it simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You told me last night that you're done hiding. That you want to start living again. This seems like a good place to start."
"It's not that simple."
"Isn't it?" She turned to face him fully, her green eyes steady on his. "You have friends who love you. A skill you're good at. A dream you helped build from the ground up. The only thing keeping you from being part of it is the story you're telling yourself about who you deserve to be."
Brian stared at her. "When did you get so wise?"
"I've always been wise. You just weren't paying attention." She grinned. "Also, I've had a lot of therapy. Highly recommend it."
"Hey, lovebirds." Colby's voice carried across the shop. "Stop making eyes at each other and come look at this. We're about to fire up the Indian, and you do not want to miss it."
They walked over together, Tessa's hand finding his like it belonged there. The Indian Chief sat on the lift, gleaming under the shop lights, every inch of her restored to factory perfection. Hank stood beside it with the quiet pride of a man who'd spent six months bringing something beautiful back to life.
"Ready?" Hank asked.
Brian nodded, and Hank kicked the starter.
The engine roared to life, a deep, throaty rumble that vibrated through the concrete floor and into Brian's bones. It was the sound of history, of craftsmanship, of things that were built to last. It was the sound of everything he'd walked away from.
And standing there, with Tessa's hand warm in his and his best friends grinning like idiots, Brian felt something shift in his chest. A door opening that he'd thought was locked forever.
