“That drink you promised me,” he said, stepping in front of me. Dean was a big guy, and he completely blocked my view.
“You’ve been backing out for a month now. I’m collecting. A promise is a promise.”
“Stop bothering me,” I said, furrowing my brows. “Go bother Ben.”
“Ben’s busy,” he said, glancing over his shoulder like he was trying to spot his husband. “I don’t even know where he is right now.”
“Don’t you have a surgery to do?” I asked, already feeling irritated.
He raised his eyebrows. “Don’tyouhave a surgery to do?”
“I’m done for the day,” I said flatly. “It’s fucking seven-thirty, Dean. But you usually work longer hours than I do.”
“I’m done too,” he said with a grin, adjusting the strap of his duffel bag over his shoulder. He was already changed and readyto head out, just like me. “So let’s go. Let’s get that drink.” Then he paused. “Wait. Don’t you need to pick up Harper?”
“She’s staying at my mom’s tonight,” I replied. “Sloane’s going out. She texted me earlier.”
“With Gabriel?” he asked in a low voice.
I shook my head. “Probably. I don’t know. Didn’t ask.”
“Man.” He clicked his tongue. “How are you holding up?”
“Miserable.”
“Then let’s go drink until we’re wasted!”
“I don’t feel like it,” I said quietly.
“Cam.” His tone softened. “You’ve been wearing yourself out with work, then locking yourself away in your apartment. It’s the same cycle every day. Come on, go out with me. We can ask Ben to come too, if you want. Tomorrow’s your day off. Mine and Ben’s, too. We can drink as much as we want tonight.”
When I didn’t reply and tried to peek over his shoulder, he sighed. “Come on, stop it, okay? Just go out this once. Have a good time with me.”
I looked at him, noticing the concern in his eyes. He was genuinely worried, like he could see how broken I was.
Then I exhaled and said, “Okay.”
The big guy practically jumped with excitement.
“Come on. We’ll take your car since Ben took ours home. I’ll text him later to see if he wants to join.”
He turned around, and I started to follow. Then I saw Gabriel walking over to Sloane, who was sitting in the crowded waiting lounge, completely absorbed in whatever she was watching on her phone.
Yeah, a drink or two—or five—might be precisely what I need tonight.
“Okay, this isn’t fun,” Dean complained after we’d been sitting at the bar for more than an hour, me silent and nursing my third drink. “We need to talk about things.”
“What things?” I asked, taking a sip.
“Like what’s going on inside your head. I know you’ve got a ton of stuff you need to let out.”
“Don’t feel like talking about it,” I mumbled.
“I want to know if you’re okay, Cam,” he said, sounding sad. “I’m worried about you.”
“There’s nothing to worry about,” I said. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” he replied. “Cam, it’s me. I know a great deal about the two of you, even if neither of you likes to discuss it. You know you can trust me.”
