Chapter 14
Jamie
In other words, his brother was damn lucky, and I really did not need to be picturing Hank singing in the shower.
I crashed as soon as he was gone, and begrudgingly got up at six a.m. to let Lady and Tramp into the backyard, snoozing on the couch until they demanded food and attention.
I played with them outside enough to ensure they wouldn’t destroy the house while I went to lunch with my two besties, then headed for my car.
I got in, started the engine, and started to reverse out of the drive.
Oh, shit. The flat! I’d totally forgotten. I stomped on the brake, making the car lurch, and shifted into park. I opened my car door and hopped out to check my rear passenger tire. If I’d bent the rim, I was going to kick myself.
The tire no longer looked flat. I stared at it a minute, confused, until Hank’s voice from last night flitted through my mind.
I can change it for you.
I’d told him I would do it today, and he’d gotten food and come by instead. Did he seriously change my tire before he went home? My car was unlocked, so he could have accessed my trunk release and gotten out the spare.
But how did I feel about that?
The flutters in my stomach indicated I wasn’t mad. But I still pulled out my phone and sent him a text.
I said I’d change my tire.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared. Finally, a text popped in.
Hank:
I know, but I barged in and took up your whole evening. It seemed only fair.
I pursed my lips. He’d also brought me food and conversation. It’d been nice. Really nice. Maybe too nice?
Jamie:
I’m not helpless.
Hank:
I’d never think that. Seriously, Jamie, I was just trying to be a friend.
That stupid F-word.
Jamie:
Fine
Hank:
Sorry if I overstepped.
Jamie:
No, it’s good, actually. I totally forgot about the flat and would have been late to lunch. Thank you.
Hank:
Happy to help!
I got back into the car and drove over to The Stag Pub, where Maverick, Silas, and I had agreed to grab lunch today. They had a great Philly cheesesteak special.
Maverick was just pulling up in his Mini Cooper as I arrived. He hopped out and joined me on the sidewalk. “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”
“Nothing, thankfully. I’ve had enough of cooking.”
His forehead furrowed. “You got the catering blues?”
“More like the bridezilla blues.”
“Did someone name my theme song?” Silas called, a few feet down the sidewalk and closing the distance between us at a brisk pace. “Bridezillas are my specialty.”
“You gotta stop sending them our way!” I cried. “Help a guy out.”
He chuckled. “I tried. She was in love with that garden party, though.”
“Oh, this was that bridezilla,” Maverick said, obviously recalling the text Silas had sent about her a while back.
“Yep,” I said. “I wanted to strangle the woman, and I didn’t even have to talk to her. Poor Marissa.”
Maverick pulled open the heavy wooden door, and we traipsed into the pub, pausing a moment to let our eyes adjust to the dim lighting.
A couple of older guys sat at the bar. I recognized Garrett Rafferty, a long-haul trucker in town, and Tucker Ellis, who worked for the city.
A gaggle of old ladies giggled over their drinks at a table in the center of the room. The pub’s owner, Maude Pike, had joined them, which meant they were probably getting drunk on her Granny Tea, which sounded innocent but was alcoholic enough to knock out a bear.
Silas led the way to the newer, padded booth seating built along the far wall.
We took our seats and perused the menus. A server stopped by to take our drink orders and vanished again like smoke.
“So, how bad was the bridezilla?” Silas asked.
“Bad enough I was late to pick up the dogs from day care earlier this week,” I said. “I had to work late yesterday too because she decided to book us for the rehearsal dinner instead of going to the Dinner Bell as planned. I guess we’re too good at our jobs. She wants to expand the menu.”
“You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“Tell me about it! I had to bribe Hank with leftovers to make up for being late on Tuesday, and then I couldn’t meet him for drinks last night.”
“Whoa, hold up,” Silas said. “Since when are you two meeting up for drinks?”
“It’s not like that,” I said. “He wants to be friends.”
Silas wrinkled his nose. “Did you tell him you already have friends?”
Maverick cackled. “That’s harsh, man. You know sweet Jamie would never say that.”
I sighed. “Silas is right, though. I don’t want Hank to be my friend.”
Maverick shot me a surprised look, but the server returned with our drinks. I’d opted for a Coke today. I’d had more than enough beer last night.
We took the opportunity to place our orders: cheesesteak and fries for me, a bacon cheeseburger and rings for Maverick, and a Caesar salad for Silas.
We gave Silas a look as the server walked away.
“What?” he said. “I don’t keep this trim figure by eating fried shit.”
Maverick shook his head. “You live a half life, my friend. No love. No good food. It’s sad. Truly.”
Silas laughed. “Fuck off.”
“I’m serious,” Maverick said. “You deny yourself too much.”
“I deny myself nothing. I have more fun than both of you. Speaking of, let’s get back to Jamie’s crush on Hank.”
“It’s not funny,” I said. “He’s so sweet.”
“And gorgeous,” Silas put in.
“So gorgeous,” I said with a sigh. “Both outside and inside.”
Maverick raised an eyebrow.
I cleared my throat. “But I digress. The point is, he really wants to be friends, and he seems a little lonely as the new guy in town.”
“Ah, so you want to swoop in and seduce him,” Silas said with a nod. “It’s a long shot, but you never know.”
“No,” I said emphatically. “I just don’t feel right about rejecting his friendship, but is it crazy to do this? Am I just setting myself up for pain? Because I keep telling myself I can’t have him, but last night when he came over, he was just so freaking charming. He even changed my flat tire!”
“What? He came over last night?”
“To do what?” Silas asked, leaning in.
“Just to talk about the dog festival he’s planning. I offered to help recruit some vendors and sponsors. Silas, you’re helping because you’ve got all the connections.”
“Don’t I get a say in the matter?”
“No,” I said. “You’re my best friend, and you’re kind of an asshole, so I’m sure you owe me for something or other.”
Maverick pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m not your best friend? I’m hurt.”
“You’re also my best friend,” I said. “Which is why you should volunteer at the event.”
He sighed. “Fine, but only if I can make Damon volunteer with me and call it a prank. I owe him one.”
“Call it whatever you want. Two volunteers is better than one.”
“Perfect!”
Silas crossed his arms on the table and leaned in. “So in all seriousness, what are you going to do about that crush if you don’t want to avoid Hank?”
“I don’t know.”
“You need to compartmentalize,” Maverick said. “Put Hank in a straight-guy friend box and don’t open it.”
I nodded. “I’m trying.”
“It’s not easy when a guy changes your tire. I mean, if that’s not love, what is?”
I threw a coaster at Silas. We never made it through a single meal without ending up here.
“You’re such a brat.”
“But you love me, anyway.”
Speaking of guys who wouldn’t properly stay in the friend zone. I’d been half in love with Silas for years. We hooked up a few times when we first met, but Silas didn’t do relationships and I couldn’t do the casual thing. We eventually decided friendship was best, but my heart wanted more.
At least it used to. Now, I couldn’t picture a relationship with Silas that was anything but a disaster. Those feelings had reshaped themselves. I loved Silas as a friend, and those roots went deep, but I had no desire to date him.
If I could get over him when we were so close, then I could do it with Hank, too. At least this time, I knew going in that I couldn’t have that type of relationship. I’d keep my expectations in check, guard my emotions, and eventually, I’d want nothing but friendship from Hank, too, right?