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46. Lincoln

What the fuck did he just say?

What. The. Fuck?

"What the fuck, Linc? You're not listening?" protests Adrian.

Yep, you see that right. The very best friend who had ghosted me for this past months is now drinking my liquor like it's fresh water and he's been stranded on the Sahara.

I should have known when I saw his ass walking in from the door that he wasn't bearing any good news. I should have known when I saw him and he just waved his hand asking for a drink. I should have known.

When the most stubborn prick on the planet shows up at your bar after punching your mug ugly, giving you silent treatment for months, you know something is wrong.

And it really is. Terribly, fucking devastatingly wrong.

"Slow down, man. You want to knock yourself out or something?" I warn, reaching for the bottle he is gripping so hard like a lifeline.

He swats my palm. Hard. Fuck, that hurts.

"Yeah, yeah. I wanna do that so baaad," he slurs. He then chuckles. "You realize how funny it was? I'm trying to kno
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