“He’s considerate about it,” Adrian adds. “Wears headphones most mornings. That’s progress.”
I take a sip of my beer. “That sounds fine. Someone here blasts pop music at all hours.”
Lance side-eyes me. “You leave your boots right inside the door every single time you crash at my place. I’ve tripped over them more times than I can count.”
“They’re work boots,” I say. “They stay by the door.”
“Doesn’t mean they need to be a death trap,” Lance counters. He then turns to Adrian. “You see what I have to deal with?”
“I see it,” Adrian laughs.
I grunt, shifting in my seat.
“A man who communicates in single syllables and occasional grunts and somehow everyone thinks he’s deep.”
“I don’t grunt,” I say.
“You grunt constantly. You’ve got a whole damn vocabulary. That one right there?” Lance points at me. “Dismissive grunt. Different from your ‘considering’ grunt. Different again from your ‘you’re annoying me but you’re also right’ grunt.”
Adrian looks at me, mouth slightly open. “Is that accurate?”
“Partially,” I say.
“Which part is wrong?” Lance snorts.
Adrian’s eyes move between us. He picks up his beer and settles back.
“You know…you two have it easy in a way,” he says after a moment, not bitter. “You’ve had each other all this time. Didn’t have to start from nothing and hope it holds.”
Lance shifts. “You do realize we’re not…together like that, right?” He avoids looking at me.
I try to ignore the sting when he says that.
Adrian studies him for a second, then smiles faintly. “Sometimes I forget that, with how you two act together.” Under his breath he adds, “At least…not yet.”
Lance and I both pretend we didn’t hear it.
Adrian rolls the bottle between his palms. “With Vince and me, so much time has passed before we got to see each other again. It then became about trusting that this was actually ours now. That we get to finally keep it.” He pauses. “I missed a lot of his life. Even when I followed him from a distance, I wasn’t there. You don’t get those years back.”
The room falls silent. For the first time, I see the weight Adrian carries. We joke around like we’ve known him forever, but we only really met him during Trevor’s wedding week. We had no idea what it took for him and Vince to get here.
Lance leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Yeah, but if it went any other way, you wouldn’t be who you are now. Same for him. Sometimes you still end up exactly where you’re supposed to be, and it’s the best versions of yourselves.”
I grunt.
Lance turns to me, already reading it for what it is—my ‘I’ve got nothing to say’ grunt.
I narrow my eyes at him for a second before clearing my throat. “Yeah,” I add. “Known Vince a long time. Something always felt…missing.” I take another sip. “Not anymore.”
Adrian meets my eyes and gives a small, grateful smile.
Lance claps his hands together, breaking the moment. “But more importantly, and this is what I actually wanted to know,” He points at Adrian. “You still doing any stripping gigs or what?”
Adrian barks out a laugh. “Not professionally.”
“Tragic. You had talent.” Lance responds, trying to look bored.
“Private bookings only,” Adrian shoots back, deadpan.
