Page 33 of Spilled Coffee

Ethan shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling with a heaviness that seemed too much for one person to bear. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes remained focused on the small ring of liquid left behind by his glass. “Brick, have you ever… you know… wondered what it’d be like?”

Brick blinked, caught completely off guard by the question. Wondered whatwhatwould be like? His gaze darted around the room, searching for a distraction, maybe even an escape route. But all he found were other people kissing in dimly lit booths, the barman polishing glasses with mechanical precision, and colored lights dancing with themselves in the mirrors.

Lucy’s suddenly felt a whole lot smaller.

Brick’s mind flickered back to the flyer on Ethan’s counter—the one with bright pink colors and a pride flag in the corner. He swallowed hard. “Are you sayin’…” He hesitated before continuing, unsure if he even wanted an answer. “You think you might be gay?”

The word felt foreign on his tongue, but he pushed it out anyway because his best friend deserved honesty, even if he wasn’t entirely sure how to navigate this conversation himself.

Ethan shrugged again. “I don’t think I’m gay,” he said slowly, dragging out the words as though testing them, then let out a long sigh that came from somewhere deep inside him. “I mean, I don’t fancy men,” he clarified at last. “Just a man—” His fingers traced idle patterns on the top of the bar, avoiding Brick’s gaze as he spoke. “—a friend,” he added quickly, almost defensively. “Maybe it’s just a friendship thing.”

“Uh…” Brick scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly, grasping for something helpful to say, but coming up short.

He stared at Ethan for a long time, trying to make sense of what he’d just heard. His jaw worked soundlessly before he forced out words to fill the silence that was becoming a wide chasm between them. “It’s not me, is it?” The question came out half-joking but was tinged with genuine unease. “Cause, you know… I’m not—I mean…” His brow furrowed as he tried to gauge Ethan’s reaction. “I like you, man. Hell, you’re my best buddy, and sure, you’re a good-lookin’ guy and all that, but I just don?—”

“It’s not you.” Ethan interrupted quickly, saving Brick from further embarrassment. “Not you,” he repeated more firmly this time.

Brick let out an audible sigh. “Hell, for a sec there…” He chuckled, then trailed off, frowning slightly and quirking a brow with mock indignation. “Should I be offended by that? Are you saying I’m not hot? Cause, I’ll have you know, I’m prime Texan beef—hundred percent grade-A!”

He puffed out his chest for effect, then shoved another shot across the counter to Ethan. It was a silent gesture of solidarity that said: I’m here for you, whatever you need.

His tone shifted and when he spoke again, it was lighter. “All right,” he said, setting his stool in unfamiliar territory. “But there is someone yankin’ your chain. So, who is it?”

Ethan stilled, and his hand retreated from the glass as though burned by the question. His head dropped into his hands, fingers threading through his hair, trying to physically hold himself together against the storm that was raging inside him.

“I can’t tell you,” he muttered after what felt like an eternity.

His voice cracked under the weight of those words—raw and vulnerable in ways Brick had never heard before. He frowned deeply at Ethan’s pain and his own helplessness to fix it, but pressed on anyway because that’s what friends did—even when things got messy or uncomfortable or downright incomprehensible.

“He military? Oh, hell… do I know him?” There was no accusation, only curiosity and concern, but it was enough to let Ethan know Brick wasn’t dropping this anytime soon.

“I…” Ethan shook his head without looking up. “I can’t,” he repeated softly.

Brick took a deep breath and for once in his life… he didn’t push back.

“Heyyy there, cowboyyyy… you wanna buy a girl a drink?” a giggling blonde slid her arms around Brick’s neck. Her voice purred, lipstick bright as she flashed Ethan a flirty smile.

He looked away, sipping from his bottle, nerves jangling.

“Abbey! Holy shit…” Brick beamed, clearly knowing her. “Ethan, man, you good there?”

“I’m fine,” he lied as he quickly gathered himself. He was too drunk, and that was too fucking close. “Put it down to the tequila.”

Brick nodded to the barman, then turned to Abbey. “So, what’d you want?”

“I want you to come meet my friend first,” she chirped. “I told her about you and she’d love to say hi.” Her hand rubbed Brick’s ass, squeezing it teasingly. “Bring him with you.”

“You wanna go meet the ladies?” Brick flashed his best shit-eating grin.

“No, you go, I’ll join you in a while,” Ethan said, waving him off. “I need some water. I don’t feel so great.”

“Ok, if you’re sure, but I’ll stay if you wanna talk?” Brick raised a brow but thankfully, Ethan gestured him away. “Alright. Come on then, Miss Abbey…” he circled his arm around the blonde woman’s waist, “let’s go meet your friend.”

As they wandered off, Ethan turned to face the bar and took a last sip of his beer. A huge hulk of a man accidentally bumped his arm, and the stool beneath him wobbled, spilling the beer down his chin.

“Oh, hell, I’m sorry,” Hulk-man said in a deep, somewhat familiar voice. “Let me get you another.”

Ethan blinked twice before recognition clicked in. “Devon?” he smiled.

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