A Very Merry Bromance (Bromance Book Club #5) (17)

No point arguing that fact.

Duff crossed his arms. “You know what your problem is?”

“I’m sure you’re going to delight in telling me.”

“You still don’t know the answer to my question.”

Colton rolled his eyes. “Not this shit again.”

“You’re unhappy, Colton.”

The use of his real name—not princess or dipshit or any other derogatory nickname—caught his attention as much as the sharp edge of the words. “Didn’t you hear, Duff? I’m happiness personified.”

“Happiness is the expectation that weighs you down.”

Okay, that was it. He’d had enough bullshit for one day. He slid out of the booth, dug his wallet from his back pocket, and dropped some bills on the table. “Merry Christmas,” he grumbled before turning away.

He heard the slow creak of Duff sliding from the booth. “We all wear the chains we forged in life, princess. You need to figure out what yours is made of before it’s too late.”





CHAPTER FIVE


The problem with having such a close group of buddies is that they were unapologetic about calling you out on your bullshit.

Colton should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to evade questions when he met up with the guys the next morning for breakfast at their regular diner, the Six Strings, but he did his damnedest to try. He immediately lifted the menu to cover his face as soon as he joined Noah, Malcolm, Mack, and Vlad at their table. Three other chairs remained unclaimed, waiting for the rest of the crew.

Vlad plucked the menu from Colton’s hands and tossed it on one of the empty seats.

“Hey,” Colton grumbled, picking it back up, “I was reading that.”

“You get the same thing every time,” Vlad said. He leaned close to study Colton’s face. “What is wrong with you?”

Colton pushed his friend back by the shoulder. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“I don’t believe you.” Vlad pointed. “You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“He’s right,” Malcolm said, studying Colton’s face. “You’re doing the thing.”

“What fucking thing are you talking about?”

“The thing with your right eye,” Noah said. He adopted a drunken expression with his right eyebrow arched. “You always do that when you’re perturbed about something.”

“I do not,” Colton said. But he lifted his knife to look at his reflection, and sure enough, his right eyebrow was arched. He dropped his knife. “Fuck off.”

Mack nodded appreciatively at Noah. “Perturbed is a good word.”

“I use good words because I’m a genius.”

It was actually true. Noah had a genius IQ. “Well, you’re wrong about me,” Colton complained, reaching for the carafe of coffee in the center of the table. “There’s nothing wrong.”

“Did everything go okay with the meeting?”

His stomach soured. “Great. Fine.”

“Fine?” Noah repeated.

“Yes.”

“That’s all we’re going to get?”

Colton forced a shrug. “There’s nothing else to tell.”

“So, they liked the new songs?” Vlad asked.

Luckily, he was saved from answering by the arrival of Gavin, Yan, and Del. They strolled in together, dressed in workout gear again, probably for a training session after breakfast. They sat down and looked at Colton, and then all three of them leaned closer.

“For fuck’s sake,” Colton grumbled. “Nothing is wrong with me.”

“He’s doing the eyebrow thing,” Del said to the table.

“We know,” Noah said, once again mimicking the expression.

Colton fell into a silent sulk when a waitress appeared to take their orders. They’d been coming here for so many years that the entire staff knew them well enough to just ask, “Y’all want the usual?” For Colton, that was ham-and-cheese grits. The Six Strings was the only place that made them the way his mom used to when he was a kid. She’d make a panful every Sunday night, and it was just enough to feed Colton, his sister, and his brother for breakfast before school all week. There were a few years after he’d left home that Colton couldn’t stand the thought of eating it again, not because he was sick of it but because he resented it. The memories it evoked. His siblings were too young to know the reasons why their parents had to rely on cheap, filling meals that lasted a long time, but Colton knew. Just like he knew his parents were lying when they said they had to leave their house and move to a small apartment in 1991 because they thought the kids would enjoy living closer to the park.

The waitress left the table, and Colton hoped the guys would move on from berating him.

They did not.

“Out with it, douchebag. What’s going on?”

It was pointless to avoid it any longer. Besides, they’d find out sooner or later. His life intersected with Gretchen’s in too many ways; it was actually a miracle they hadn’t crossed paths until last night. There was no guarantee Gretchen wouldn’t mention it to Elena, Liv, or Alexis.

“Fine,” Colton said, leaning his elbows on the table. “I saw Gretchen last night.”