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“Are you all moved in?” Hannah asked, bracing her back to the counter.
Dave snorted. “All my stuff is enclosed in the walls that I pay to occupy, if that’s what you mean.”
She nodded. “I’ve been there. Let me know if you want some company as you unpack.”
“You’re not going to offer to help me unpack?”
“Fuck no.” A very unladylike snort accompanied the eye roll.
Dave smiled to himself as he watched the espresso machine finally dispense his cherished beverage. He brought it to his lips and the first sip greeted his senses like an old lover returning.
“It’s the taste. There is literally nothing like it. Dark, light, in between…I love them all.”
Silence followed his statement and he glanced at Hannah. One eyebrow was lifted in question.
“You wanna give me some context, bud?” she asked.
That was when Dave noticed Shawn trying to stifle his laughter across the room. Piper’s eyes were glued to her laptop screen, but they were wider than they’d been.
“What did I say?” he asked.
“Well.” Hannah spoke slowly. “Shawn asked since all your girlfriends keep getting arrested, why do you keep dating crazy women?”
Shawn couldn’t hold his laughter in any longer and it tore through the room. Dave couldn’t help but smile even though he felt heat spread up his neck to his face.
“And I said…”
“That it was the taste,” Hannah finished seriously.
He cleared his throat and lifted the small espresso cup. “I was talking about the espresso.”
He hadn’t even heard Shawn’s question. Not the first time. And it wouldn’t be the last where he’d missed something and then said something that everyone laughed at.
When he was younger, it bothered him a lot more.
Now that he understood a little bit better how his brain worked and how those things happened?
It still bothered him.
Just not as much as it used to.
“Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly.
Hannah just shook her head and let it be. She was one of those rare individuals who didn’t try to change how he was wired. She just went with it.
“When do the boys get here?” she asked, changing the subject.
The boys she referred to were the forever homies. The OG crew. The goofballs who didn’t make fun of him when he started making up rhymes in middle school and who had supported him through everything. Even the face tattoos.
Max and Leslie.
“Tomorrow night. They’re just here for the weekend and then out again. But they’ll be in and out as I settle. Just to make sure I don’t do anything stupid.”
“I’m glad you have them. They’re really great guys.”
“And I would tell them you said that, but I think I would have to tell Max outside of a hospital just in case he stroked out.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she chastised, but she was smiling.
