Page 47 of One More Chance

“Hey, man. Good to meet you,” Graham says, extending his hand to me.

I shake it, nodding and returning the sentiment. I note the similarities and differences between them. Maybe I can’t help but do this considering I have a sibling of my own.

Gentry and Graham have the same dark hair, the same color eyes, and are built nearly the same. Where Gentry keeps a short beard, Graham is currently clean shaven. They have the same dimples, but you can see Graham’s more due to this. Under the right circumstances, they could pass for twins. Minus Graham being an inch or so taller, and the thin jagged scar he has slicing right through his eyebrow near the corner of his eye.

We make our way back through town, fulfilling the other errands we need to run, Graham filling most of the silence. He’s a pretty funny guy and I find myself laughing as he reminisces with Gentry about their teenage years.

“Okay,” Gentry says. “Who’s ready for a good fucking time? Just the boys?”

“Hell yes, brother,” Graham says.

“Let’s get me drunk,” I say.

Gentry pulls onto a road that’s essentially an entire street full of bars and clubs, explaining that a few more guys will be meeting us here.

As we wait for their arrival in the parking lot, I pull out my phone. My head flips back and forth as I debate. I know Harper’s going to be out having a good time tonight and I don’t want to dampen that. I need to squash this. I pull up her messages.

Me:I hope you have a good time tonight.

Harper:Thanks. You too.

I’m a little surprised at how quickly she responded, even if it is a short response. I try again.

Me:I mean it. I’m sorry about my behavior.

Harper:I appreciate that. I hope you have a good time too.

Ugh.I don’t like that. I’m ready for alcohol. Lots of alcohol. We’re celebrating, right? Let’s fucking celebrate. I put my phone away and shake out my arms from shoulder to fingertip, mentally preparing myself for a long and much needed evening of meaningless shenanigans. Maybe I’ll even hit on a waitress or bartender, I don’t know. The sky is the fucking limit.

All I know is I will definitely not drunk text Harper later.

I will do just about anything to avoid that.