Reed had trained in the same gym as the man, and he greeted Keegan with a big grin, rolling his eyes at the two bottles of Guinness in the man’s hands. “Keeg, how many times do I have to tell you? I’d rather drink sewer water.”
“You’re a disgrace to your people, Miller,” Keegan retorted in his thick Irish brogue. Scowling, he set the bottles in front of the two men. “You don’t get your pansy-ass Bud Lights until you finish your Guinness like good little boys. Hear me?”
Reed and AJ exchanged an amused look as the man ambled back to the bar. “Why do we keep coming back here?” Reed said dryly.
“Because it’s awesome.” AJ picked up his bottle. “Now be a good little boy and drink your Guinness.”
Sighing, Reed forced himself to choke down a sip of the too-thick liquid. “So whatcha been up to?” he asked his friend. “You’ve had the past six days off. Must have been nice.”
AJ shrugged. “I haven’t done much. Just hung around at home. Played video games. What about you?”
I fooled around with your ex-girlfriend.
Reed bit back the words. Blurting it out like that was definitely not the way to do it. For days, he’d been practicing what he would say to AJ, but now that they were face-to-face, the confession got stuck in his throat.
He knew that the second it slipped out, it would be an invitation to get punched in the face. Which he deserved, because he was total pond scum. He deserved every hateful word AJ was going to hurl his way, every accusation, every act of violence. What he’d done was unforgivable, he knew that, and yet at the same time, he wanted to hold on to this friendship for as long as he could.
He didn’t have any siblings, or even parents. Reed’s only family had been his late Uncle Colin, who’d taken him in when he was four years old, after his mother had died in a car accident. His father, sadly, was some faceless man who’d had a one-night-stand with Reed’s mom and took off long before she’d discovered she was pregnant. Reed didn’t even know his name.
Colin had raised Reed best he could, but the man had always been more concerned with getting drunk than nurturing or supporting his nephew. As a result, Reed had learned to seek out that support elsewhere, but he hadn’t truly found it until he’d met AJ.
And now, because he’d given in to temptation, he was about to lose one of the most important people in his life.
“So Gage said you almost caught our dealer,” AJ spoke up, his green eyes serious.
“Almost being the operative word. The ass**le was a no-show.” He battled a rush of frustration. “But we’ll figure something else out. I’m pretty sure we haven’t seen the last of that creep.”
AJ hesitated, running one long finger over the label of his Guinness bottle. “Gage also mentioned that Darcy was the one who got the dealer’s number.”
Every muscle in Reed’s body tensed. “Yeah, she stopped by the club to…” God help him, but he couldn’t stop the lie from flying out. “To talk to you, I guess.”
Surprise washed over AJ’s face. “Huh. Did she say what she wanted?”
“Naah, she didn’t say anything.”
Shit, he was going straight to hell. Probably ought to pack up his sunglasses and SPF 30 in preparation, because there was no avoiding his fate.
Just tell him. Man up already.
He opened his mouth, only to get interrupted by AJ’s quiet curse. “Okay, enough. We don’t have to tip-toe around it, all right?”
Reed froze, an uncharacteristic vise of panic squeezing his chest. “What do you mean?”
“Darcy and I broke up. It’s really not a big deal, so please, stop treating me like I’m a cancer patient or something.” AJ grumbled in displeasure and dragged a hand through his dark blond hair. “I know you think she dumped me, but I promise you, that’s not how it went down.”
Reed knew he’d kick himself later, but he still had to ask. “What happened then?”
“Chemistry happened. Or rather, lack thereof.” AJ picked up his beer and drank nearly half of it in one long swig. “We got along so well––we had the friendship part down—but there was no spark. No excitement.” He shrugged again. “We made a go of it, it didn’t work out, and now it’s over. Time to move on.”
Reed might’ve bought the speech—if AJ’s tone had contained even an iota of conviction. But his friend sounded so glum that he suspected AJ was just reciting a rehearsed line. As if he were trying to persuade himself that the breakup had been mutual.
“Anyway, I have a favor to ask.” Another sip, and AJ had drained his beer. He slammed the bottle down and fixed Reed with a somber look. “I need you to help me out with Darcy.”
The panic returned, winding around his spine and making his skin go cold. Damn it. He couldn’t let this continue. Three more seconds, and he might be forced into agreeing to play Cupid on a quest to bring AJ and Darcy back together.
And even though he was still racked with guilt over what he’d done, Reed felt sick to his stomach at the thought of Darcy and AJ rekindling the spark AJ claimed had been absent.
“Listen, man,” he said roughly. “Before you say anything else, there’s something I need to—”
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” AJ cut in, “but I feel like a total shit letting her down. I mean, I agreed to this months ago. But I think it would be too awkward to follow through.”