3. Ryan
CHAPTER THREE
Ryan
I slide into the chipped leather booth where Wes and Parker are already sitting.
Our regular place is half empty, but it’s still early, so that doesn’t surprise me.
Tim, the bearded bartender, cleans the bar with a rag that has seen better days.
The Rusty Anchor lives up to its name, with a massive anchor mounted on the wall above the bar.
The man below it, with his olive-green beanie and long gray beard, is as much of a staple of the place as its namesake.
“Evening, gentlemen,” I tell my friends before motioning to Tim to bring me the usual.
“Who are you talking to?” Parker glances from left to right. “I don’t see any gentlemen here.”
The smirk hidden beneath his firefighter mustache makes me roll my eyes. His hair is mussed from the cap he wears most of the day, and his shirt is the usual size too small to showcase his muscles.
“Lame joke, man,” Wes responds, and I couldn’t agree more. He straightens his glasses, the sleeves of his striped button down rolled up.
People who don’t know us would wonder how the hell we are friends. A suit, a gym bro, and a nerd. But Parker, Wes, and I have been best friends since high school. Even when I lived in San Francisco, we’d talk pretty often, and we’d meet any time I was home.
Tim slides the ice-cold beer toward me, my fingers wrapping around the neck of the bottle. “Thanks, man,” I tell him, but he simply nods. Unlike Parker, Tim’s a man of few words. I sip at my favorite beer, letting out a sigh.
“How’s work?” Wes asks. “Still living the dream?”
“Matter of fact, I am.” His question is a dig at the fact that I quit my high-paying, demanding job in finance and moved back home to become a delivery driver. “Today was pretty fun, actually.”
As soon as the words exit my mouth, I realize they’re the truth. I also realize that I never once called my big city job ‘fun’. A challenge, yes. A burden, plenty of times. But fun, never.
“Ooh, did you finally get a desperate cougar to proposition you?” Parker’s eyes widen like an excited puppy.
Wes simply shakes his head.
“No, but I did get to deliver four different sex toys to one woman.” I lift a finger, suppressing a smile, and Parker’s eyes widen even more.
“Who is she? Was she hot?” he blurts out in one breath.
I’d had my share of one-night stands, but Parker made it a competitive sport. Before he got a daughter, of course, though he still likes to get around when he has the chance.
His questions make me think about today.
It took me three minutes to get my shit together and stop giggling in the van before I was calm enough to ring her doorbell.
She took forever to answer, but when she did, whew, it was worth the wait.
It was obvious she was fresh out of the shower, her body clad in a flimsy bathrobe and her hair wrapped in a towel on top of her head.
A single streak of dark hair was falling over her face, framing her gorgeous light blue eyes.
Her skin was pale and clear of makeup, and her cheeks rosy with embarrassment.
Still, that’s not what I tell Parker and Wes. “Sorry. Carrier-client privilege.”
Wes chuckles under his breath.
“That doesn’t exist,” Parker states before turning to Wes. “It doesn’t, does it?”
This time, Wes’ laugh is audible. “How’s Chrissy?”
Parker’s eyes light up at the mention of his daughter. “She’s good. She’s looking forward to your sleepover.”
Once a month, each of us takes Chrissy for a night at our place so Parker can get some adult time. With his crazy firefighter shifts and the fact that he’s a single father, he doesn’t get much of it. Besides, Wes and I both adore his eight-year-old daughter.
“I have some cool things planned for her, and a new board game I just bought,” Wes responds.
“Ooh, a board game,” I taunt. “I’m sure she prefers it over my PlayStation.”
He throws a napkin my way, but I manage to catch it mid-air.
“She has been rocking school the last few weeks. And I got her some new clothes.” Parker unlocks his phone to show us pictures.
No matter how childish he might seem among us, he’s an amazing firefighter and an even better father. None of us knew what to expect when a random one-night stand shared she was pregnant and didn’t plan to stick around, but he took that challenge like he does any other—head on.
Wes, on the other hand, plays it safe. He’s been working at the same accounting firm since he graduated the local college, hangs out with the same people he did in high school, and he doesn’t date very often.
My personality falls somewhere in the middle. I’m used to doing what’s expected of me: graduating with a business degree and getting recruited right out of college. I’ve worked long hours and overdosed on caffeine more days than I can count.
I guess Wes notices my blank stare. “Seriously, man, how are you doing? How are the headaches?”
Almost eight months ago, I’d started experiencing burnout.
Even looking at a computer caused debilitating tension headaches, and work became unbearable.
It got to the point where getting out of bed in the morning was hard.
Regardless of the sick days I had saved, my bosses were on my ass for me to get back to work.
I stalled the whole thing for a month, unable to accept my failure, before quitting my job and moving back home.
“I’m good. They’re good.” They’re still here, but not nearly as prevalent as they were before. “Though I really need to get my own place.”
Parker offers a compassionate look. “Kim’s giving you a hard time?”
I’ve spent the six weeks back in Fig Bay living in my childhood room, sharing the roof with my mother. “No, she’s been great… I also met her boyfriend, Roger.” Both of them wince, but I lift my hand. “No, no. He seems nice. She also seems happier.”
“What does he do?” Wes asks.
“He’s the CEO of some big company.”
“Good for her.” Parker lifts his bottle in the air.
“Really? Which company?” Wes, the curious one, asks.
“I’m not sure. He invented some sort of app a while back, and now he works on developing other apps.
” Wes’ mouth drops with my vague answer.
“Anyway, I think it’s time for me to get out of the house.
” When I first got back, my priority was to survive a day without thinking of bashing my head in just to stop the pain.
Now that I’m finally feeling better, it’s time to grow some roots. “I’ve been looking at houses.”
“So, that’s it? You’re staying here in Fig Bay?” Parker inspects my expression.
“I think so, yeah.”
“Well, I’ll drink to that.”
The three of us raise our bottles in the air and clink them before chugging a big gulp. There’s no doubt in my mind that this was the right move. My degree is useless at my current job, but I feel peaceful. I feel hope. Seeing cute girls blush when I deliver their vibrators definitely doesn’t hurt.