Page 23 of Shattered Dreams

Dre’s voice falters as his lips part, and for a minute, it looks like he’s somewhere else. In his head, his memories, maybe. I reach out to grasp his arm, give him a reassuring squeeze, and that seems to bring him back to the here and now.

“You okay?”

He shakes his head, seemingly brushing off the strange moment, and forces a smile.

“Yup. Never better.”

Chapter Nine

Andre

I get the fire going, and we drink beers as we stare at the flames, a comfortable silence falling over us.

My skin is warm from the sun, no doubt a little burnt regardless of applying sunscreen multiple times. Paul’s skin is tinged pink, too, and hopefully we don’t end up in pain over it. Sunburns suck.

The fire crackles as the condensation on the bottle drips over my fingers. I lost count of how many we’ve had, but it’s a lot. Enough. If we were both young again, still in college, we’d be partying the night away. But now, all these years later, both of us single dads… we’re just chilling. Enjoying the quiet that we don’t usually get. And it’s nice to enjoy it with someone else. The silence doesn’t feel so silent with Paul near me. I guess it’s always been like that with him, and I’ve just never realized it before.

Out of the entire group, we’ve always been the closest. Two peas in a pod. We both grew up around here, just a town apart, or we’d have gone to the same high school and known each other sooner. Instead, college brought us together. Along with the rest of the guys.

I didn’t think much about it then, but I’ve thought a lot about it now. About how I don’t know where I would be without Paul. He’s been a staple for me since I moved back here. Mentally, he’s what’s holding me together whether he realizes it or not.

“You want to head inside?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says. “AC sounds amazing.”

I chuckle as I finish my beer, putting the bottle on the ground beside the others, and get up to put out the fire. Paul gathers the bottles and puts them in the recycling bin. When everything is all set, we head inside.

“I think I might need a sweatshirt,” I say with a chuckle.

“Kind of mad I wore shorts.”

“I have some sweats you can use,” I say. He just stares at me. “If you’re gonna hang out for a bit.”

“Yeah, definitely. Sure.”

I head into my room and change into sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt. My skin burns beneath, so I definitely got too much sun. I grab another pair of sweats for Paul, and a hoodie, just in case he wants it.

He takes both and goes into the bathroom to change, while I wrap up the food. There’s way too much for me and Rylee, so I put some in containers for him to take home with him.

“Didn’t we clean this up already?” he asks as he comes over to the island, standing on the opposite side.

“Yes, but this is for you.”

“Oh—okay. Cool. Thanks.”

“I made way too much. I figure you’re better off taking it. At least it’ll get eaten. Rylee won’t eat half of this stuff.”

“Yeah, Maddox is picky as hell, too.”

I set his containers in the fridge in a separate spot, and then we make our way into the living room. I don’t feel drunk, but I do feel relaxed.

“If I'm overstaying my welcome, let me know,” Paul says as I sit on the couch.

I look up at him and smile.

“I would. But you won’t. Sit.”

He sits beside me, and I scroll through the movies, looking for something to watch. I settle on Adam Sandler’s version of The Longest Yard.