Page 48 of If This is Love

I looked at him again just in time to see him flash me a bright, white grin that I had totally seen him use on women to get them to leave the bar with him. This kid was a seasoned pro at getting people to do exactly what he wanted. But I had nothing to do, especially since my soon-to-be ex-wife just left after I finished packing her shit, which was the one thing on my to-do list today. It would also be a good excuse to see Luke without letting on to the fact that all I wanted to do right now was talk to my brother since it was finally over.

“Sure.” I tossed the cig into a rusty coffee can hidden behind the potted flowers and stood up, Gunner standing with me, and we silently followed Brennan all the way up the block to the bar.

He pushed the door open and held it for Gunner and me, and then he followed us inside.

“Hey, Gabe,” Connor greeted me as we passed the high-top table he was sitting at with a half-empty beer and two other empty glasses, nodding at Brennan’s bag. “Hey, nerd, why the fuck did you bring your school shit?”

Brennan slapped my shoulder as we made our way to the bar where Luke was standing, absently wiping his hands with a white rag while he eyeballed me. “I promised Gabe unlimited pitchers of beer if he helped me with my calculous homework.” He pulled out his wallet and tossed a credit card on the bar, nodding at Luke. “How are you, Corporal?”

Luke gave him a total shit-eating grin as he tossed the rag to drape over his shoulder and parked his hands on his hips. “I’d be a hell of a lot better if you added a pitcher for me to your tab.”

Brennan flashed his signature, society douchebag smile as he reached across the bar to give Luke a single, firm pat on the cheek. “If you want to get drunk at work on my dime, I’m one-hundred-percent here for it, so feel free to knock your ass out.”

Luke swiped the credit card and used it to point at Brennan. “This is why you’re the fuckin’man, man.”

“I know.” Brennan grinned again and slapped my back as he stepped away from the bar and moved to Connor’s table. “Alright, Gabe, I’m going to get to it, and I’ll just holler at you when I get to something I can’t figure out.”

I gave a cursory nod. “Yep.”

Luke continued to eye me for a second. “Hey, bruh, come on back here and help me pull a fresh keg.”

I wordlessly made my way around behind the bar, noticing Brennan had merely set his bag on an empty chair and was just shooting the shit with Connor like he wasn’t planning to study at all. Like he’d pulled all that out of his ass just to get me off my porch and over here to hang out, which was exactly what he used to do to Connor when he first started coming around these parts. I scowled at him before following Luke through the door to the back room, but silently appreciated him tricking me into coming. I already felt a little better, and I knew silently sitting at the bar near my baby brother while he worked was better than sweating my ass off on my porch because I didn’t want to go inside my house ever again.

Luke and I hefted a keg off a shelf and set it on the ancient concrete floor, and he stepped aside to mess with something on the other side of the room. “She gone?”

“Yep.” He was still messing with something over there, so I sat on an empty keg that was lying on its side, resting my elbows on my knees and hunching forward while I speared my fingers through my hair and gripped tightly.

My grip on my hair was tight enough for my scalp to smart a little, and I kind of liked the feeling. It was a weird, cathartic pain, and I gripped harder, pulling a little more, making it hurt a little worse. The burn flared across my shoulders again, and a shaky, hitched exhale spilled from my mouth.

Luke moved away from what he was doing and closed the door to the storage room. Nobody ever shut that door when they were back here because it was so stuffy and had little airflow, and the only reason he did was to preemptively hide me from our friends while I rode out the breakdown that was coming at me like a freight train with shot brakes. Gunner sat next to me and laid his head in my lap. They both knew I was about to lose it, and they both braced me for it accordingly.

And yeah, I fuckingcried. Silently and behind my hands and with my head between my knees, but yeah. I cried. For the first and only time since I was about ten years old when our sperm-donor left in basically the same way my wife just did.

I might’ve been a grouchy-ass raincloud and prickly as a fucking porcupine, but I was still human. Still had fuckingfeelings.Still lived through shit that no person should have to. Still just wanted my wife to come to her fucking senses before she got on the fucking bridge out of town and say she wassorry, because I really did want to work things out. IknewI had the capacity to forgive her. I wasreadyandwillingto forgive her. But she had no interest in my forgiveness and only wanted to go meet up with the guy she’d replaced me with.

Luke’s sturdy palm settled on my head, and he slowly, firmly scrubbed my hair. “You know what you should fuckin’ do, bruh,” he started to say, handing me the rag so I could wipe my face. “You should make a list.”

I cut my eyes up to him. “A list,” I repeated, handing back the towel. “A list of fuckingwhat, Luke?”

He hitched both shoulders, backing up to lean against a wall across from me. “Like, a list of requirements that another chickhas to havebefore you’ll ever take her out.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “You think I’m ever going to dateanyoneever again?”

He shrugged again. “Or at least to get laid.”

I raised both eyebrows. “The last fucking thing I need is to evenspeakto another woman. Not for alongfucking time. Maybe ever. Fuck women, andnotlike that.” I sat up and crossed my arms over my chest. “I can’t believe I have to explain this shit toyou.”

Luke lifted his shoulders way up to his earlobes. “You don’t. I get it. I swore off relationships the second I signed the papers,but…” His shoulders fell into their natural position, and he grinned widely and mischievously. “Come on now, bruh. You need a good, hard fuck with a hot chick to get your mind off all this shit.” He wagged his finger at the door. “And that rich douchebag out there has the best fucking coattails for a mission like this. All you gotta do is go somewhere with him because when he picks up a chick, shealwayshas a friend who needs some company.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Trust me on this, bruh.”

“Thesecondlastfucking thing I need is to wingman for Riley while he tosses me a bone that he decided wasn’t good enough to nibble on.” I rubbed my forehead and hung my head below my shoulders again. “I don’t want to get laid. I don’t want to make a list. I just want to pretend women don’t exist.” I glowered up at him. “Is that fuckingokaywith you, bambino?”

A half-smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, and he gave me a placating nod. “It’s fuckin’ fine, bruh. I got your six.” He approached me to pat my back and then slipped through the door, letting it swing wide while he stepped out. He returned a second later with a bottle of my favorite whiskey and a glass and stopped in front of me. He poured a tall drink and handed me the glass, then set the bottle on the floor next to me. “Courtesy of Sarn’t Riley,” he said with a snicker. “Stay back here as long as you need to.”

I wordlessly saluted the air with the glass as he stepped out, leaving the door open this time so I didn’t suffocate back here.

That was how I wound up drunk in the Old Point Bar storage room, mentally piecing together a fantasy woman who was so fucking flawless that I knew I’d never encounter her in real life. And that way whenever Luke and I had this conversation again, I could just blame the list he talked me into making for the fact that I’d never lay a finger on another woman for as long as I lived.

All those feelings I pretended to not have would be safe forever, because if the point was to hold out for the woman who checked off everything on my list, I’d be holding out forever.

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