“It’s fine.”
“It’s not.” He turns to face me. “I’m trying to figure it out, okay? I know I keep saying that, but I am. I just need more time.”
“Art, it’s been six years. I don’t expect you to solve this.”
“I won’t let you rot down there forever.”
Guilt flashes across his face, and his shoulders slump like the weight is too heavy to hide.
“You need to get yourself out,” I say. “Take Genevieve and go somewhere else. Let her find a restaurant to work at where she can actually cook instead of wasting away behind that bar. You go back to wheeling and dealing with aboveboard shit.”
His jaw stiffens. “You don’t think I can handle this?”
“I’m telling you—beggingyou—to get out before they turn you into something you can’t come back from.” Emotion clogs my throat. “There’s no hope for me, man. The sooner we both accept that, the better.”
“Your dad…”
“Fuckmy dad.”
Art doesn’t say anything to that.
“Anyway.” He clears his throat, reaching for his beer. “Ginny’s probably pissed at me.”
“Yeah?” I keep my voice neutral even though my heart stutters. “When is Genevieve not pissed at something?”
He chuckles, leaning his head back.
“That’s just you, man. She doesn’t like you…probably because you call her by her full name when you know she hates it. I call her Genevieve once and she practically rips my throat out.”
Genevieve.I roll the name through my head the way I always say it, and wonder why she lets me and why I like the fact she does.
“What’d you do to piss her off this time?”
“She wanted to do this whole dinner thing tonight. Cooked and everything.” He leans back against the couch. “I told her I had to check on you. She wasn’t exactly thrilled.”
She cooked for him and he left?
My mind flashes to her kitchen. To the way her face lit up when I ate her stew, like watching me do it was her favorite thing.
I set my beer down and clear my throat, trying to get the sudden dryness to go away. “You should’ve stayed, dude.”
“This coming from the guy who coined the term ‘bros before hos.’”
“Yeah, but… She’sGenevieve, right? The girl you love.”
Art swallows and nods. “Since when do you care about her feelings?”
“I don’t.” The lie scrapes against my tongue. “Just saying, if you want to actually keep a girl in love, you’ve gotta give her more than your mediocre dick. They like flowers and all that fancy shit.”
“I give her flowers.” He frowns. “Andgooddick. Some might even sayelite.”
I roll my eyes. “Right.”
“Besides, it’s not like I’m always bailing. I just had to check on you.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
