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“Alright. I can never say no to you, it would be like committing sacrilege against a celestial being.” His silly statement still lifts a weight off my shoulders.

I’m running away from Uri; it’s childish and cowardly. But since he eavesdropped on my conversation with Linda at the hospital yesterday, I feel like there’s an insurmountable brick wall between us. A wall I don’t feel ready to face, yet.

“Where do you want to go?” Ollie asks.

“A club?” But I’m not in the mood for dancing. “No, a bar. I want to drink.”And forget.

“Shitface-night it is. I’ll come with Ollie and bring Michael too. They need to leave their ball-and-chains at home.”

“I’ll tell Gabe you call him that, you fucker.”

“I didn’t, you daft prick. I was referring to your husbands,” Lori responds.

“I dare you to say it to Raph’s face!”

“Are you sure you want to vex me when you need to borrow clothes from my wardrobe for tonight?”

“Fuck! If I die in one of your George Michael short-shorts and crop tops, I’ll be extra pissed off,” Ollie clips.

“Why?” I ask.

“’Coz it will be my ghost attire, and I’ll be stuck in that horror for eternity!”

“Ghosts don’t exist,” I hazard.

“We’ll pick you up from work? I’ll bring a change for you, as well. We’ll be there in an hour and a shake,” Lori lets me know.

“A shake?”

“One long blink and a cha-cha.” Lori keeps confusing me.

“Cha-cha?”

“Quit the nonsense, Lor.” Olli sighs, and I hear an “ouch” followed by a curse. “Be downstairs in an hour.”

Fifty eight minutes later, I’m in the Bear-Stone Labs building lobby with Michael and Raph. Thankfully, Uri had to go check one of his restaurants. He told me to wait for him, which I never had any intention of doing.

While Raph and Michael are shamelessly making out near the elevators, I send Uri a text to let him know I’ll be with the guys tonight—maybe I can ask Ollie to stay at his place. I haven’t seen Sully in a couple of weeks, and Albert E. will be fine in his big room. I put my phone on silent mode just as I wince at the loud sound of a long honk from outside.

I follow the noise out of the building; the cold weather hits my face, making me pull the collar of my coat up. My eyes find Ollie’s Jeep pretty quickly under the yellow light of the lampposts. He’s in the driver’s seat, trying to bat Lori’s hands from the horn.

“Stop it! You’re acting crazier than usual.” Ollie huffs with exasperation, adjusting his clothes.

Lori leans back into the passenger seat. “Not acting here.” He turns on the windshield wipers.

Ollie stops the squeaky sound, glaring at his best friend. “Now it’s edging into insanity!”

I open the back door and climb inside the car.

“Edging…I wish!” Lori snorts and then touches the wiper lever again. The squeaky sound is back. “I can never find a windshield wiper setting that truly satisfies me. Too slow, too fast, too discontinuous.”

I see Lori’s hand moving toward the lever near the wheel again.

“I got it, you’re pissed at Bez, but I swear if you touch that switch, I’ll… Oww! You bit me.” Ollie is rubbing his cotton-clad forearm, sending a murderous look at Lori.

“I’m feral.” Lori smirks wickedly at him.

“You should get a shot,” Michael giggles, appearing near the car.