“Hey Buddy. I’m having a rough day.”
The large hound leaped up on the bed and snuggled against Nick’s side, chewing the squeaky tree with gusto.
“Suit yourself.”
He opened up Spotify on his phone and made a new playlist. Holiday Breakup Songs. He added three hours’ worth of music and he lay back against his pillow, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh.
When “Last Christmas” played the first time, he knew it was the end of the playlist. Instead of starting over or putting on another list, he just hit repeat on the song.
It blasted out of the speakers for the twelfth time before the front door crashed open and closed.
“Where the hell are you, Nick?” Anthony Russo hollered.
Butch lifted his head with a high-pitched howl and jumped down to greet the intruders.
Anthony and Pike Sutton stood just inside the room, their faces twisted in identical expressions of disgust.
“Who the hell is this sad sack and where have you taken our broski?” Pike asked.
Nick sat up with a wince. “It’s good to see you too. Guess you didn’t get my snap.”
“Oh we got it. We just chose to ignore it.” Anthony leaned over him until they were nose to nose. His bushy black brows wiggled. “Are you ‘pressed’？”
“No.”
Pike came over too, pushing his face next to Anthony’s. “Sad? Upset? Mad?”
“You assholes need to stay off TikTok.”
Anthony stood up. “Whew, we should back off before he Hulks out.”
Pike punched Nick’s shoulder lightly, ignoring Anthony’s warning. “Seriously, bro, what’s up?”
“Again. I. Got. Dumped.”
“We know, but so what?” Pike rolled his eyes. “She did you a favor. Now you can go forth and meet other hotties. You’re too young to tie yourself down.”
Nick glared at Pike. They’d been friends since third grade, but their goals in life were polar opposites. Pike liked being single and planned on staying that way for the foreseeable future, while Nick always imagined settling down early and starting a family. And the differences spilled over into their outward appearances.
Pike was short and stocky, with a round face covered by a perfectly formed dark red beard. He kept his auburn hair shaved close on the sides and two inches of just-got-out-of-bed styled awesomeness stood on top of his head. Nick was a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy, while Pike had been known to sport funky bow ties when the mood stuck.
Pike threw up his hands as though to ward off Nick’s hostility. “Hey, I’m just being honest, pal. You’re twenty-six. No man should lock a woman down until he is well over thirty.”
Nick sat up and shot Anthony a hard look. “Can’t you control him?”
Anthony’s full lips pursed, as though he was fighting a smile. “I’ve tried, but he always slips his leash.” He scruffed Butch behind the ears, shooting Nick a pitying glance. “Besides, he’s not wrong. You shouldn’t be thinking of anything but what the hell you’re going to do now that you’re a civvy.”
“I already know what I’m doing. I have a job that I start on Monday and I need to buy a truck. I’m looking for an apartment. I had everything I wanted, but now…”
Pike jumped in, finishing his thought for him. Poorly. “Now you can take your time and have fun. You’ve spent eight years fighting the good fight. You deserve to come home and reap the benefits of being a hero.”
“I’m not a hero and I don’t want to date a bunch of random girls. I’m into a solid, in it until the end, monogamous relationship.”
“Why would you want that with Amber?” Pike asked.
Nick flopped back on the bed with a groan. “Not you too. My mom, Noel…did everyone hate Amber and just fail to mention it?”
Anthony grabbed his hand and hefted him back into a sitting position, his expression sheepish. “We figured you’d realize she wasn’t right for you once you got home.”
“Well, she beat me to the punch on that.”
The echo of the front door opening and closing and the tap of footsteps down the hall preceded Noel standing in his doorway. She had on a pair of painted-on jeans tucked into knee-high brown boots and a puffy white parka zipped halfway up her chest. Her dark brown hair perched atop her head in a high ponytail, swinging saucily as she glanced between each of them.
“What’s happening?”
Butch launched himself at her, burying his face between her legs and she slammed back into the door, gripping the dog’s head between her hands.