Page 122 of The Storm

“Because we’d all find it funny to have you uproot your life and then once you show up be all, ‘Psych! There’s no job?’”

I stare back impassively.

“Oh, come on,” she says. “You don’t really think that.”

I make myself laugh and shake my head. “No, not really.” Even though, at this point, I very much do expect to walk into my new job next week and have them escort me out before I manage to settle in. They wouldn’t even have to give me that cardboard box so I could put my sad cactus and a photo of that generic family that comes with the frame in it.

“Go,” Dia says with a sigh, “Callum wouldn’t do that. He’s great. You’ll see.”

I suppose she would know since she and Bridge are the ones who organized this job for me. Still, I reserve the right to be cautious. Not even cautious. Realistic.

In the six years since my life imploded, I’ve become cautious to the extreme. Nothing good will ever last. It’s like a mantra at this point.

“I’m fine,” I say. “Very excited about this opportunity and ready to… do stuff.”

“You really have to get a better faking-it face. And voice, while you’re at it.”

“I already have the next few days reserved for practice in front of the mirror.”

Her shoulders slump, and she presses her lips together.

“I’m kidding,” I say.

“Uh-huh. You know what? I’ll cancel some stuff, and you and I will hang out.”

“A pity hang. Thanks.”

“You’re like a kicked puppy.” She reaches out her hand and pinches my cheek. I bat her arm away.

“I’ll have you know I already have plans, so you can go and stuff your pity hang.”

“Do you really? Or are you just saying it?”

“No,” I say, affronted at the skepticism in her voice. “I’m meeting up with Dylan.”

The look of relief on her face that I won’t be a hermit and will actually have a life only makes me feel more pitiful. So that’s nice.

“How is Dylan?” she asks.

I shrug. “Happy.”

That kind of sums it up, and considering everything Dylan’s been through, the universe owes him happiness for the rest of his life. Dylan is the nicest and most thoughtful person I’ve ever met. He cares deeply and is faultlessly genuine. Beneath his composure, though, there’s a stubbornness that borders on self-destruction. Once he believes something matters, he has a hard time letting it go.

We met a few years after I moved to San Francisco, both of us lost in different ways. I guess heartbreak recognizes heartbreak or something. What started as an accidental one-night stand developed, against all odds, into a real friendship. I didn’t plan on it. I was mostly okay with being on my own. It felt easier. But then Dylan and I just… fit. Even now, when he’s head over heels in love and settling into his life with Adrian.

“What are you guys up to, then?” Dia asks.

I shrug. “Grabbing a bite to eat somewhere, I guess? Maybe have a few drinks.”

She nods, satisfied that I’m not going to mope here alone. “Okay. Have fun. I mean it, Go.”

“Once I’m done, you’ll have to peel me off the bar floor.”

“Not that much fun.”

I throw my arm across her shoulders, pull her against my side, and kiss the side of her head. “Pick a lane.”

She punches me in the side. “I’m allowed to worry. You’re my brother.”