Page 12 of Addicted to You
Britt reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Thank you. This means everything to me.”
After a moment of silence, I grinned. “Well, guess I’m officially becoming a Bostonian,” I said, pausing before adding, “But don’t get any ideas. I’m still keeping my Astros gear.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You’ll have to deal with the teasing. But fine, you can stay loyal to Houston. Just don’t expect me to go easy on you at Fenway.”
“Fair enough.” I chuckled. “But you’re buying the peanuts when we go to a game.”
She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I’ll do you one better and buy you a Togarashi clam roll. They’re to die for.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not that big on clams.”
“Trust me. They’re delicious.”
“Is it fried?” I wondered.
“Yes.” She nodded, knowing I couldn’t pass up a fried piece of seafood.
I thought for a moment. “All right. Then you have yourself a deal.”
As we steppedout of the cafe, Britt pulled her phone out of her pocket, and her face lit up as she read a text.
“Hey,” she started, glancing up at me. “A few ofmy friends from high school are meeting up for drinks at Flanagan’s. It’s an Irish pub with good drinks and decent food. Want to come?”
I shrugged. “Sure. I’d love to meet your friends.”
Her smile brightened. “You’ll like them and Flanagan’s. It’s a fun spot, and if you’re lucky you might spot a few Bruins players there after home games.”
I gave her a sideways glance. “Guess I’m gonna have to trade in all my Texas teams now, huh?”
She laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you wear a Patriots jersey. Yet.”
“Good, because that’s where I draw the line,” I teased.
We walked a few blocks toward the pub while Britt talked about her old friends. I nodded along, recognizing some names from stories she’d told me before. Flanagan’s was packed when we arrived.
“They’re in the back.” Britt looped her arm through mine and guided me through the crowd to a packed booth.
Her friends greeted her with hugs and then she turned and motioned toward me. “This is Cash. My boyfriend.”
I exchanged polite handshakes with everyone, trying to keep up with the introductions.
“And this is Kenny,” Britt added, glancing between us. “We ... uh, dated for a bit in high school.”
Kenny smirked. “A bit? Try the better part of senior year.”
Britt rolled her brown eyes. “It wasn’t that serious.”
He leaned back in his seat, the smirk never fading. “If you say so.”
“Want a drink?” I asked Britt.
“Sure. Just a beer is fine.”
I nodded then headed to the bar to grab beers for us and when I returned, the group was reminiscing about high school and everyone catching up. Kenny kept jumping in with jokes and comments that had Britt laughing.
At one point, he turned to me. “So, Cash, what do you do?”
“I’m a sober companion. I help people in recovery.”
