Focus, Drew.
“Do you remember anything else? You said you were friends?”
Caesar turns to his beer. His jaw is tight, his brow knit with something like anger. I think I might have upset him, and the brief moment of connection we shared starts to flicker away.
This man is so different from me. I don’t think I understand the first thing about his world. But connecting with him even this tiny bit feels so good, like I’m connecting to a part of myself, too, and I don’t want to let that go.
“What can I tell you, kid? The honest answer? The second you got close to Mack, he pushed you away. He had a short temper and a cocky attitude. He listened to shitty music, and he listened to it too fucking loud. But he was funny, and he was damn talented, and he made everyone feel like the center of the universe…” He trails off, then wipes his mouth again. “I don’t know. That’s all I got.”
My cheeks are warm, and my head is fuzzy as the whiskey works its magic. “That’s a lot more than I had before.”
Caesar turns, opening his big body to me. He looks like he’s about to say something more, but he stops himself. “Thanks for telling me that he’s gone,” he says, then drains the rest of his beer as he stands. “I’m glad I know.”
I jump to my feet. “Are you leaving?”
He frowns. “You need something else?”
I search my brain for an excuse. I do need something else, actually. I need a lot more time with Caesar, in ways I can explain and in ways I can’t. “I’m in town for a little while,” I say. “Can I see you again?”
He frowns, and the lines around his eyes crease. “Sorry. I think my schedule is full.”
“For a tattoo,” I blurt out, my thoughts racing. “I want to get my first tattoo, and well, I just thought the guy who used to work with my father would be the right person.” Caesar’s face softens. “For Mack,” I add with a hesitant smile, “that old asshole.”
I think I’ve said the wrong thing, but then Caesar lets out a rough chuckle. “You want some ink, kid?”
I nod quickly. “Yes. I definitely do.”
As of five seconds ago.
“Okay. Stop by the shop. Tell them I said to fit you in. Next week?”
I nod quickly. “Next week. That’s great.”
“Fucking Mack,” Caesar grumbles under his breath, then throws some cash on the bar and turns to walk away. “See you later, kid.”
“Yeah,” I holler after him, my head swimming. “See you later!”
I fall back onto the stool, suddenly drunk.
I guess I have to get a tattoo.
CHAPTERTHREE
DREW
I sitin a little café near my hotel the next day, waiting for Piper. I’m going to be in Chicago for at least a week until my tattoo appointment, and she’s the only person I know in the city.
Piper and I were friends in college, or at least until the start of senior year, when my mom got sick and I moved back home. We’d done a decent job keeping up at first, but it’s been a couple of years now since we last spoke.
Insecurity swirls through me that she won’t want to reconnect. I feel like I disappeared into a sad little world in my hometown the past years, while all my peers were moving on and having new experiences. The time with my mom was precious, and I wouldn’t trade a second of it. But I still feel stunted and left behind and worried I won’t have anything to say to my old friend.
The moment Piper walks in the door, though, a wide smile fills my face, and hers, too. She looks amazing, with long curls of black hair, bright blue eyeshadow, and a loose pair of trousers that she’s paired with a faded white T-shirt and high-heeled boots.
“Oh my god, Drew,” she squeals, squeezing me tight as we both laugh. “I’m so happy to see you!”
I step back and rub her arm. “Yeah, me too! You look amazing! I’m so glad you had time to meet up.”
“Of course I do,” Piper tells me as she slides into her seat. “You remember, I tried to get you to visit Chicago a few times.”
