“Okay,” he says, taking the seat next to me, and waves the waitress over.
“I’ll take whatever IPA you’ve got on tap. What do you want?” He turns toward me.
“I’ll take another whiskey.”
“He’ll take an IPA,” Silas tells the waitress. I glare at him, willing him to put in the order I want instead of what he did. “Catch me up,” he says as soon as she’s out of earshot.
“You were right.” I hang my head between my hands, staring at the table.
“As much as I’m sure that’s true, you want to fill me in on which thing I was right about this time.”
“All of it. I’m in love with Covey, though I’m pretty sure that started a long time ago. And in a little over four weeks, he’s going to break up with me—fake break up with me—and I’m already heartbroken.” I woke up last week, wrapped in Covey’s arms. The man knows how to snuggle. I’m not sure he let me go the entire night, which is not a complaint. I would’ve stayed like that all day, but sadly, the alarm clock went off a minute later.
“And you what? Thought you’d get a head start on the post-heartbreak sulking?”
“Why put off until tomorrow, what you can do today?”I left his house quickly since he still had a few hours left of sleep. He’s been working hard and deserves to sleep wherever he can. Besides, I only gave myself enough time to manage my morning routine. Since then, we’ve gone back to our regular text messages and occasional quick phone calls. There’s been no repeat of our night together. No mention of how we’re going to handle January, our conversation at the bar forgotten. At least by him.
I’m overexcited at the idea of possibly extending this. It’s not a good idea—I don’t need to ask Silas to know that—but I still want to. It would give me six more months to come up with a plan. Or seduce Covey. Or come up with a plan to seduce Covey.
“I’m not sure that applies to this situation.”
Our drinks arrive, and we spend a few minutes in silence, savoring our ales. I still wish mine was whiskey.
“Go ahead. Say I told you so.”
“Jesus, Aidan.” Silas rubs his hand over his face. “I’m not getting any joy out of this situation.”
“But you did. This is exactly what you said would happen. But no, I didn’t want to listen.” Judging by the looks we get, that last part might have been a bit loud.
“How many drinks did you have before I got here?”
“Two.” Probably.
“I’m going out on a limb here, but I’m guessing you haven’t mentioned your feelings to Covey?”
I shake my head.
“This might be a crazy idea, but you could talk to him. Like the mature adults you both pretend to be.”
“No way.” Now that’s a fun suggestion. Not only could I ruin our holiday arrangement, but I could also destroy our whole friendship. I can see the entire thing now, me confessing my undying love to him, and Covey letting me down easy. The awkwardness of the situation tearing us apart until we’re back to the occasional like on social media posts.
No way. At least in my version of this, I can be heartbroken, but still have Covey in my life. Some Covey is always better.
He holds his hands up like he’s afraid I’m going to throw something at him, which is fair. “Just checking to see how far down the rabbit hole we are exactly.”
“What am I going to do?” I gulp down at least half of my beer. It’s not whiskey, but it’ll do.
“What you always do,” Silas whispers. “You’re going to get over him.”
Given that seven years apart didn’t work, I doubt any ofthe usual things will either. Maybe if I move to a foreign country? Or take a vow of silence in a monastery? It might be a bit extreme, but I think it’ll take something extraordinary to get Covey out of my system.
COVEY
Buzzing pulls me from a strange dream. I tug at my sleep mask, trying to figure out where the noise is coming from. It takes far too long for me to figure out that it’s my phone. I swear I put my phone ondo not disturbbefore I fell asleep. I always do. It’s a lesson I learned early on. When family and friends are in entirely different time zones, not doing so is a serious risk. It took my mom a whole three years to figure out that with a six-hour time difference, she couldn’t call me after she ate dinner.
To break through my settings, someone has to call multiple times. My stomach twists in concern as I reach for my phone. As I do, the buzzing starts up again.
Aidan. Fuck, that can’t be good.
