When You Were Mine [Second Chances 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Read Online Free Page B

the missed call log and dialed.
    A few rings later, Steve picked up and said, “Jamie Connolly. Holy shit. How are you, buddy?”
    “Not too shabby. Glad to be home. How about you? Shit. It’s been ages!”
    Another half hour passed before he managed to get off the phone. Steve had been officially invited to poker and he needed to run to the grocery store immediately. Everyone would be here in less than two hours and he had four beers, some cold cuts, and a half-eaten pizza in his apartment.
    The pizza solved one problem, though, he realized. He grabbed a slice out of the box and took a bite as he searched for his keys.
    After a quick trip to the grocery store, he was armed with snacks, drinks, and some actual food for the coming week. He was balancing the last load of bags against the door when he heard a familiar voice say, “Hey. Let me grab that for you.”
    Steve walked up and grabbed one of the six-packs that was perilously close to sliding out of his grasp.
    “Thanks, man. Should’ve gotten a place with an elevator,” he said as he turned the key and opened the door. “Come on in. Thanks for coming over.”
    Steve laughed and said, “You said free food and poker. I’m easy.”
    Jamie shook his head as he stashed the beer in the fridge and said, “Good to know. So catch me up. What’s been going on? Still repairing computers out of your mom’s garage?”
    “Christ no! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get laid when you’re twenty-three and living with your mom?”
    “Thankfully no. I stayed in the dorms during school and there was no way I was going back to live with my folks after that.”
    Jamie put away the rest of the cold stuff, then grabbed a beer for himself. He looked up at Steve, who was perched on a barstool and said, “Want one?”
    He waved a hand and said, “Nah. Sober three years.”
    “Oh. Okay. Is this gonna bother you?” Jamie asked.
    “Nope. Have at it, brother.”
    “If you’re sure,” Jamie said. Then he asked, “Want water? A soda?”
    “Water’s good.”
    A second later, he grabbed the bottle and passed it over. Taking a swig of his beer, he said, “Let’s move into the living room. Those stools suck.”
    Steve snorted and said, “Yeah. I didn’t wanna say anything but my ass is kinda numb already.”
    “In my defense, the one in the store was much more comfortable than those are.”
    “Yeah. That’s how they lure you in. It’s been broken in by a million asses before you sit in it. When you get it home and take it out of the box, it’s hard as a rock and wobbly,” Steve said.
    “Ah, so you shop at Davison’s too, then,” Jamie said with a smirk.
    “I’ve got the same fucking stools,” he said with a laugh.
    When they had settled in the living room, Jamie said, “So shit. Catch me up. What have you been doing since I last saw you?”
    Steve sat in the overstuffed chair and ran a hand through his wildly curly hair. “Hm. Let’s see. I sold cars for a while. That worked out for me. Too well. When you’ve got a shit ton of disposable income and you’re not entirely happy, you spend it on a lot of dumb stuff. Hence the sobriety. I was married. Got divorced. Quit the car sales, went back to school, and started an accounting firm. It’s not the most exciting job but it’s going pretty well for me. Enough money to live on, more clients than I can handle. Adulthood, I guess.”
    “I’m glad you were able to get it together. Some people never do,” Jamie said, still surprised. The Steve that he remembered had been a casual drinker. It was hard to reconcile all of this in his brain. A lot had changed since they’d hung out last, he supposed.
    “What about you? I’m glad to see you didn’t turn into some yuppie,” Steve said, his lip curled in disgust.
    Jamie laughed and said, “Didn’t have time to spend any of that money. I was working, like ninety-hour weeks most of the time. Got tired of being fucking tired all the time, and I hated New York.