Page 62 of While the Sun Shines

“I’ll help. Solidarity and all.” Drew taps his toes together. Be chill, he tells himself. Act normal and natural and like he isn’t aware of every inch of his skin that’s close to hers. Sleeping in a bed together—maybe he really will have to look into getting a cow to drive them back tomorrow, after two sleepless nights of staring up at the ceiling, restless and on edge. “So, uh, with everything else I’m not at all clued into, what’s—what’s going on with you?”

Awkward, to have to ask. Embarrassing that they live together and see each other every day, and here he is, his fingers twisting together in his lap and suddenly unsure he has any idea at all.

“Battle of the Bartenders,” Drew says quickly. That, he knows. “I’m sorry it got cancelled.”

“I’m sorry for my bank account. It had a sweet-ass cash prize, but who knows. Maybe they’ll reschedule it.”

“Got your eyes on another motorcycle?”

“Down payment,” she says.

“What?”

“Oh my God, relax, you look like you’re going to jump out of your skin. I’m not moving.”

“Oh.” He presses his palms to his thighs. Breathe, he tells himself. “Are you—what’s—what’re you buying?”

“You really, actually want to know?”

“I do, Pen.”

“You’ll remember?”

“I can take notes,” he says.

“And lose them,” she says, but she smiles. “Deb, my boss at Murry’s? She’s offering me a plan to buy her out of the bar when she retires.”

“Wow, really?”

“Yes, really.” Penny shrugs. “Kinda helps that the room I rent is like, super cheap, so it’s actually a possibility.”

Drew tries for a smile. “Got a good landlord?”

“Yeah, but he’s shitty at figuring out construction schedules.”

“I’m—” He stops himself. Sorry, he wants to say. He squints at the huge TV. “I’ll sort out how to get Whit’s room done.”

“You better, or you get to sleep in the barn, and I’m taking your room. Which’d work for me ’cause I’d need your desk to run my own business, but good luck with the cows.”

“I can build you a desk.”

“Well, start now ’cause Deb’s on a five-year timeline, so maybe you’ll have a single leg done by then.” Penny shrugs lightly. “I think I’d be happy, eventually running that place. I like bartending, I like living where we do, and I’ve got no real plans to move on.”

“Good,” he says. “That’s—that’s good. I’m glad you’re happy.”

“No, asshole,” she says and kicks his ankle. “I’m not happy. I feel like I come last to absolutely everyone at home, and I’m lonely in a house I share with my best fucking friends.”

Drew smooths a crease out of his jeans. “I don’t want you to feel like that.”

“Well, I don’t either.”

Gently, he knocks his foot against hers. “I’m sorry I’ve been a shitty friend to you.”

“Yeah.”

“And I’ll try to do better.”

“You fucking better.”