The little bell on the door of Rose’s Mini-Mart jingled as I walked inside. The familiar scent of the small store greeted me: it always smelled like a mixture of coffee, doughnuts, and the cleaner they used to mop the floors at night.

It had been that way for my whole life, and I hoped it never changed.

Betty Hayes, the older woman who ran the shop, was perched at her usual place on a chair behind the front register. Her grandson Andy was nearby, his feet kicked up on a small shelf behind the counter. He’d started working at the store when he was sixteen years old and he was twenty now, working part-time during college.

“Mornin’, Devin—sure hope you don’t need any eggs this morning,” Betty said, giving me a nod.

“Oh, no, what happened now?” I said, crossing over toward Andy and giving him a fist-bump. He’d been one of my better students when he was still in high school, and I’d helped him work on his art portfolio when he’d applied to Rosecrest University.

“C’mon, you know what happened,” Andy said. He grinned up at me from behind a paperback sci-fi book, slouched back in his office chair. “Patrick happened.”

“I swear, you guys are the sole reason Patrick’s store is still open,” I said.

“I’d say he owes us one, but I think he really owes us, like, a hundred,” Andy said.

Patrick was the owner of Brew for You, the café across the street that was a coffee bar by day and a beer bar by night. Over the past few months, I’d been hearing from Betty and Andy about the ongoing saga of Brew for You’s foray into offering small pastries and cakes. Apparently, Patrick never knew how many eggs to order from his own supplier, and he would frequently come over to Rose’s Mini-Mart and buy them out of all their eggs, leaving none for any other customers.

These were the kind of things that passed for drama in Rose Falls. But at the end of the day, I was pretty sure Patrick and the Hayes family were on good terms.

“Luckily I’m not in the market for eggs this morning,” I said. “I do need milk, though. I want to make pancakes. And… I think I’m also going to get some cat food.”

“Did you actually get a cat, or is this some new strange diet I don’t know about where you only eat food meant for domesticated animals?” Andy said, leaning forward and putting down his book as he stood. He led me down one of the three aisles toward the back, where the pet food was. “We’ve got tuna flavor, chicken flavor, and… uh… mystery flavor,” he said, examining one of the cans as he crouched down at the lowest shelf.

“I’ll take four cans of the tuna flavor. We found a stray, actually.”

Andy tossed four of the cans into my small basket and we walked back toward the front where the milk was.

“Who’s ‘we?’” he asked, lifting an eyebrow. “Has hell frozen over? You finally find someone, Mr. Crawford? Or is it just Mrs. Malone?”

“No, it wasn’t Meredith. And please, Andy, call me Devin. You’re in college now.”

He shook his head as he sat back down. “Never gonna happen. You’re always Mr. Crawford to me.”

“And you’re Mr. Needs to Get Started on Inventory,” Betty said, giving Andy a stern look as he settled back into his chair.

“Fine,” he said. “But if I have to be walking around the store can we at least turn off Casablanca and put on some music?” he asked, nodding up at the old TV perched on top of a tall shelf.

“This isn’t Casablanca, it’s The Big Sleep. Can’t you tell the difference between Ingrid Bergman and Lauren Bacall?” Betty said.

“Nope,” Andy said, standing back up with a sigh. “I’m only paying attention to Humphrey Bogart, anyway.”

Betty laughed and gave me a sympathetic look as she flipped off the TV with a remote and turned on the little stereo to a classic rock station. I set the cat food and milk down in front of the register and threw in a package of M&Ms as well.

“So you didn’t adopt a cat, and you didn’t say no to Andy’s question of whether you found love… is it true, Devin? Should I be expecting a ring on your finger soon?” she arched an eyebrow up at me with a hint of a smile, creasing the deep wrinkles around her ice-blue eyes.

I snorted. “Wouldn’t count on it. Listen, Betty, you’ll never believe who moved in across the street from me.”

She nodded once, waiting for me to continue.

“Remember who I always used to come in here with?”

“That weird guy from a couple years ago?”

“No, no—think further back. When I was a kid.”

Betty’s eyebrows lifted up high, her eyes widening to twice the size. “No,” she said in a hushed tone, blinking at me.

I nodded slowly, smiling at her.

“What is it?” Andy called out, peeking his head around from one of the aisles.

“Russell Dalton is back,” Betty said. “Wow. Certainly never thought he would show his face around here again,” she said. “You two were inseparable, back in the day.”

“I think I remember him,” Andy said. “Russ? The guy who always used to bring me a new Hot Wheels toy on every holiday? God, that guy was my hero when I was, like, ten years old.”

“Andy, you were ten years old ten years ago,” I said. “And yes, that’s him. He says he’s back for good. We went to the fall festival together last night and then found a scared, stray kitten on our way home.”

Betty was shaking her head. “I couldn’t believe it when he left you like that,” she said, handing me the receipt for my items.

I waved a hand. “I forgave him for that a long time ago.”

“He really did leave you in a shitty spot,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows.

I paused for a moment, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah, he did. But… he was also my best friend in the world for years before that, so….”

“I’d never seen you looking so down in the dumps. I thought I was going to run out of ice cream and boxed wine that year.”

“Oh, come on, was I really that bad?”

She stood up, putting a hand on her hip. “Yeah, you were really that bad. I’m just saying, watch out for that guy. I know he might look like some football star, but no one is pretty enough to get hurt for. Twice.”

“It’s not like that between us—” I started, but she held up her hand to stop me.

“I don’t care how it is between you two. I just hated seeing you hurt like that. How’d your mom react to hearing he’s back in town?”

“Actually, I haven’t told her yet.”

Betty let out a short laugh. “Bet she’ll get quite a kick out of that. Say hi to Nancy for me.”

“I will. I should call her soon, anyway.”

We talked for a few more minutes about Betty’s latest knitting projects and Andy’s sophomore year of college before I headed out, back down the street toward my house. Rose’s Mini-Mart was pretty much directly in between my place and the Promenade, and it was far more convenient than any nearby grocery store when all I needed was something easy like milk or sugar.

But sometimes going there for a couple food items could end up feeling more like a therapy session. Betty was like everyone’s mom; she gave advice freely and didn’t bullshit for a second.

As I meandered back to my house, making sure to step on every crunchy leaf I encountered, I thought about what Betty had said.

I knew I should be careful about Russ. But the more time I spent with him, the more I began to trust him. He seemed fully intent on staying in Rose Falls, and so far, he was a much more agreeable friend than I’d had in a long time. Meredith was great, but I wasn’t always ready for her bracing attitude. Plus, she seemed particularly hell-bent on finding me a guy lately, and it was a little grating after a while.

Being around Russ last night had been calm. Comforting. And when I was around him, I felt good… really good... certainly, definitely, too good.

Damn it, Betty had a point.

But I would be fine. Because, sure, I could admit that I was probably falling back in a little too quickly with Russ. But he understood me in a way that no one else did. And maybe a good friend was really what I needed right now.

When I turned onto our street, Russ was outside his house, his head and hands inside the front cab of his truck. I walked up behind him, peeking in.

“How’s it going?” I said.

Russ jumped slightly, jolting back and hitting the top of his head on the door frame. “Ah, shit,” he cursed under his breath, pulling back and grabbing his head with his hands, wincing.

“Shit, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to surprise you,” I said. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, finally opening his eyes. “Was making sure Pepper was okay in there. We just got back from the vet.”

“Pepper? You named the kitty? Oh, no, that means you’re definitely getting attached.”

A tiny smile appeared on Russ’ lips. “Yeah. Probably too attached. Pepper is the best.”

“Any news from the vet?”

Russ rubbed at the back of his neck. He had dark circles under his eyes, and clearly, it didn’t seem like he’d gotten much sleep.

“Well, she doesn’t have a microchip, and they told me that she’s a girl and has been spayed,” he said. “So I guess the next step is posting lost cat signs everywhere I can find.”

“I hope no one is missing her too badly,” I said, looking in at the small crate Russ must have bought this morning. “At least for now, she has a good place to stay. Was it okay last night?”

Russ let out a long sigh. “Well, she was okay. Only woke me up once. But I woke up with the worst muscle pain. Damn couch isn’t half as comfortable to sleep on as it is to sit on.”

“Why’d you sleep on the couch?”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot you weren’t there to witness the utter devastation,” Russ said, giving me a weary look. “The rain poured in through a leak in the roof.”

“Oh, no….”

“Yes. It ended up all over my bed, and it’s ruined, to say the least. I took the couch over sleeping in a sogged-out bed. That’s another thing I need to see about getting today, a new mattress. And fuck, I’ve got to call the landlord, too….”

“Holy shit, Russ, that’s awful.”

“It’s fine. Shit happens,” he said, his gaze hardening again. “I’ll deal with it.” He dipped his head back into the truck.

“No,” I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “No way. You can’t just sleep on the couch.”

“Well, it’s all I’ve got, Dev.”

“No,” I said. “I have a guest room. I used to rent it out to a roommate. You’re taking that tonight, end of story.”

He leaned back, meeting my eyes. “Devin, I can’t impose on you like—”

“End. Of. Story,” I said, giving Russ a hard glare. He’d always been fiercely independent and never had asked for help when he needed it, and I saw now that it sure hadn’t changed.

“Here,” I said, handing him the small paper bag of my groceries. I reached inside the truck and saw Pepper staring at me from inside the grates of her cat carrier, pawing at it helplessly. I gently pulled it out as she protested. “Let’s get her inside. There’s cat food in that bag, and I’m going to help you make lost cat signs while you order a new mattress.”

Russ peeked inside the grocery bag as we started toward his front door. “You really are too good, Devin,” he said softly.

“What? I’m not doing anything else today. My grand plan was to make pancakes, which I still fully intend to do. We can share them over a cup of coffee. Then we’ll get to work.”

Russ paused for a moment at the front door, waiting before turning the key in the lock. “Okay… fine. But about those pancakes….”

“What is it?”

“I should tell you that the only syrup I have is the cheap, fake-maple-flavored kind that forms a skin on its surface. It’s like corn syrup. Sorry, Devin, you’re going to have to eat the bad stuff.”

I stared at him blankly.

Finally, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Just kidding,” he said. “Shit, I’ve never seen you look so murderous in your life. It’s just syrup, Dev.”

“Russ…” I said as he broke out into a laugh.

“Devin Crawford, the maple syrup killer,” he said.

“You have never been on such thin ice in our friendship, ever,” I said.

“Oh, come on. I’ve got the good syrup. It was one of the first things I bought when I got here. How else would I make sure you’d come over?”

I finally smiled as he opened the front door. “Well, you certainly know how to make me happy. Which I suppose, so far, has consisted of maple syrup, cute cats, and pretending to be my fiancé for a Ferris wheel ride.”

Russ turned around after we’d gotten inside, facing me after I put down the cat carrier. He reached out, placing his hands on either side of my hips.

A jolt shot through my whole body as he stepped closer to me—for God’s sake, he looked like he was about to move in close and kiss me. But instead, the warm weight of his hands rested on my hips, sending an ever-growing amount of blood rushing toward my cock.

“Okay. Let’s have some pancakes, baby,” he said, making slow circles with his thumbs against my hipbones. For a split second, I swore he looked like he meant it before he broke out in a laugh and dropped his hands away. “Man, we put on that whole show for that festival attendant and she could not have cared less.”

I tried to catch my breath as Russ bent down to open the gate of the cat carrier. My heart was racing just from that—from him holding me, fucking calling me baby—Jesus. I forced myself to think about cat food, or trigonometry, or anything to get my damn cock to go back down.

I was going to have to get used to the new Russ. More openly joking, more openly not-straight.

Because there was no way I could deny I enjoyed every minute of it.

But I knew for sure it was going to drive me crazy.

* * *

“Devin? Hey! Devin!”

As I wrapped the clear tape around the wooden pole on the street, securing the final lost cat flyer in place, I heard someone calling my name.

“Who’s this?” Russ said next to me, as I turned to the direction of the voice.

“Shane,” I said, as my former roommate jogged across the street, waving. “How is it going? I actually was just talking about you earlier. Shane, this is Russ. He was my best friend growing up.”

“Very nice to meet you,” Shane said, holding out his hand. His blond hair shone in the afternoon sun and he flipped it back in a flourish. “Wow, we certainly don’t mind having more guys like you in this town. So you were talking about little old me, huh? What was the occasion?”

“Well, Russ unfortunately, had a huge leak in his ceiling last night, so he’s going to be staying in your old room for a little while.”

“Ouch. Sorry to hear that. Well, if you get sick of Devin, you’re more than welcome to sleep at my place. I don’t know if you’re aware, but Devin has a habit of singing in the shower. And he’ll probably make you help paint something.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of Devin’s habits,” Russ said. “Had enough sleepovers at his house when we were teens to figure that out.”

“God, you used to hate it when I made you paint with me,” I said. “I forgot all about that.”

Shane smiled up at Russ and briefly squeezed one of his biceps. “You look like you’re probably better at lifting weights than you are a paintbrush.”

As I spoke I realized that Shane was paying less and less attention to me than he was to Russ. He was pretty obviously sizing Russ up. Shane was always a flirty person, but he seemed particularly interested in Russ.

At first, this realization sparked a flare of irritation. Shane had just met Russ, and already he was laying it on thick. I felt a stir of jealousy, of possessiveness, before I caught myself in my own tracks.

Why the fuck should I feel possessive of Russ? He wasn’t mine. In fact, last night I had promised him I would be a wingman, help him find dates with hot guys.

I had never been interested in Shane, but objectively, he was a hot guy.

If I was really going to be a good friend to Russ like I would be to anyone else, I knew I should make good on my promise. I should be a good wingman.

“Russ, Shane was a culinary student when he rented the room in my house, and now he works at The Hungry Pig up in the Promenade. His cooking is beyond good,” I said.

“You should come by the restaurant, Russ. I’ll give you a good deal,” Shane said. “And Devin, of course, you are welcome as well.”

“It’s a little too fancy for my usual tastes. I’m sure Russ would totally love to stop by,” I said, lifting my eyebrows at him. “What are you up to today, Shane?”

“I’m headed over to a friend’s house to help with dinner party set-up. I brew my own beer, and I am bringing over a bunch of it. Do you want to try a bottle?”

“Uh… sure, that sounds good,” Russ said.

Shane’s eyes lit up as he smiled. “Awesome. They’re in a cooler in the back of my car,” he said, pointing across the street. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

As Shane bounded across the street, Russ turned to me, facing away from Shane.

“Devin, what are you doing?” Russ said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it seems like you’re trying really hard to… push this guy on me or something.”

“You don’t like Shane?” I asked. “Because trust me, it’s very clear that he’s into you.”

Russ looked over his shoulder quickly, rubbing his neck with the palm of his hand. “I mean, he seems fine, I guess.”

“Did I not say I was a good wingman? Shane is cool. Certainly isn’t my type, but he’s pretty. If you’re looking to get out there, date a lot, sow your oats with the men of Rose Falls… maybe you could have a date with him.”

“Maybe…” Russ trailed off as Shane bounded back up to us, two beer bottles in his hands. They had cream-colored labels on them where he had written Shane’s Brew.

“I hope you like it,” Shane said, again looking at Russ and essentially ignoring me. “In this one, I put orange peel, star anise, and a hint of bergamot.”

“I think I know what one of those things was,” Russ said with a small smile. “But I’ll definitely give it a try.”

“Let me know. Oh! And if you want to give me your number, I can text you when The Hungry Pig has our Chef’s special. We only have it a couple times a month.”

Russ darted a quick glance at me, then back to Shane. “Okay, yeah, sure,” he said. I’d never seen Shane so giddy.

They exchanged numbers, and Shane managed to finagle a time for Russ to come into the restaurant the following Saturday. Shane flitted off as quickly as he’d appeared, but not before making sure to squeeze Russ’ bicep one more time. Russ slipped his phone back into his pocket, letting out a long breath.

“Well, shit,” he said, shrugging. “Looks like I might have my first date in Rose Falls.”

I forced a smile onto my face, holding up a hand to high-five Russ. “See how easy that was?”

We started to walk slowly back through the neighborhood.

“I mean, it was actually kind of awkward, but whatever. Devin, you don’t have to… be a wingman for me,” he said.

“Why not?” I asked. “It’s what friends do, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. But I’m just telling you, I don’t need it.”

“Oh,” I said, glancing over at him. I realized, probably too late, that maybe Russ would prefer I stayed out of his love life completely. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’ll hang out with Shane, see if we hit it off. Got nothing to lose, that’s for sure.”

“Right. The worst that can happen is it’s one date. You don’t have to marry the guy or anything.”

I noticed that as he walked, he made sure to step on each crunchy leaf in his path.

“Hey!” I said, quickening my speed a little. “Quit stealing all the good leaves.”

For the first time all afternoon, I heard him laugh. “Are you kidding me, Dev?” he said, trotting up in front of me. “Like you have some kind of right to all the crunchy ones.” He stepped on a small pile of them. “Ahhh. So satisfying,” he said.

“You fucker,” I said, grinning and giving him a playful push. “You better watch out. I know where you’re sleeping tonight, and from what I remember, you’re a very sound sleeper.”

He snorted. “Yeah, maybe back when I was a teenager. Those days are pretty much over.”

“Really? You don’t saw logs all night, snoring like you used to? Shit, when you used to spend the night in high school I swore I could light off an entire Fourth of July fireworks show in my room and you wouldn’t have woken up.”

“That’s true,” he said, nodding. “Back then I was quite an accomplished sleeper. Now I try to get up by six and go for a run. Sure as hell didn’t do that this morning, though.”

“That’s okay. I know Shane still thought your biceps were to die for,” I said.

Russ puffed out a laugh. “He did seem to like them, yeah.”

“You’re gonna be just fine on your date, trust me,” I said.

He let out a long breath of air. “Logically, I know that. But I have a… bad track record with dating, so far,” Russ said.

“Really? You?”

“Yeah. Before I moved here, I tried going on a couple of dates with guys, but nothing much came of it. I’d love to say it was about them, but I really think the problem was me.”

“And why’s that? You’re too perfect and attractive for them, and they run away?”

He shot me a glance, smiling and shaking his head. “No. The opposite. I’m too boring. They’d seem interested at first, but after a whole night of conversation they didn’t really call back. And I think I know why.”

“Too intimidated by you. Clearly,” I said.

“I talked about work, the entire time, on every date. I could hear myself doing it, and could practically feel the guys pulling away from me, and yet I couldn’t stop.”

“Were you just trying to impress them? I mean, working as a physician assistant is as close as you can get to being a doctor, and that’s pretty impressive.”

He shook his head. “No. Not even close. I realized that I had nothing else to talk about. I worked hard, worked my ass off, but then when I started dating again I realized I had nothing else to talk about. There’s only so many times a guy can hear about dosimetry or proper phlebotomy technique before he runs for the hills.”

“Yikes,” I said. “Yeah, that sounds like a foreign language to me.”

“I used to be able to talk about football—but even that isn’t enough anymore. I haven’t played in years, you know?”

“Well, you still look like a football player, at least.”

We rounded a corner, heading slowly down the next block. The smell of a grill greeted us from somewhere in the neighborhood, and the afternoon light filtering through the multicolored tree leaves was nothing short of beautiful.

“I need a fucking hobby, man,” Russ said. “Age thirty, and all I have to show for it so far is my work. It’s not enough.”

“Well, if you’ll forgive my shameless self-promotion… you could come to my Friday night drawing class in the Promenade. It’s pay-what-you-want, and drawing is a pretty cool hobby. I’m going to warn you, it’s difficult as hell at first, but the more you do it, the better you’ll get.”

“Isn’t it like, full of fancy artist types? I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Not in the least. The class has all levels of student. Beginners to experts. And I’m not a half-bad teacher if I do say so myself.”

“I’m sure you’re a great teacher,” Russ said. “Except that one time you tried to teach me guitar. That was an utter disaster.”

“Oh, God, don’t remind me,” I said with a laugh. “I mean, seriously, how hard is it to remember an E chord?”

“For me, it was like rocket science,” Russ said.

For a while we walked in comfortable silence, watching the squirrels race by and occasionally waving to people walking down the opposite side of the road. I realized that it was one of the most peaceful Sunday afternoons I’d had in weeks, maybe even months. Typically, I’d be holed up at home on a Sunday, either going over schoolwork for the following day or just idling on the couch.

This was better. A lot better. Spending time with Russ almost felt easier than spending time on my own.

In fact, I could see myself wanting to do it all the time.

“Shit, this is a deep puddle,” Russ said, a few paces ahead of me. He reached back and held out his free hand, holding mine as we took turns leaping over the substantial pool of water.

I got over it with a tiny splash, and we kept walking down the sidewalk in silence like before.

Except Russ didn’t let go of my hand. He’d held it out to help me get over the water, but he kept it there now, laced in mine, warming my own chilled fingers.

I kept waiting for him to drop it, for him to realize that he hadn’t let me go. But he kept it against mine, even when we passed by other people walking dogs and a woman pushing a baby in a stroller.

We walked the rest of the way back to our street like that, and only when we got to his doorstep did he let his hand drop from mine. His other one still held the beer, Shane’s Brew.

I willed myself not to ruminate on it, not to think about how fucking bizarre it had been, how unlikely that two grown men who were friends would walk home holding hands. Instead, I just let myself enjoy it. It had felt better than it had any right to.

Russ turned to me after we entered his house. “Gonna grab Pepper, and some of my stuff, and then we’ll head over to your place?” he said.

I nodded. And after he’d gathered everything he needed, we took a few trips up the street to my house, bringing Russ and Pepper’s things over.

For the first time, even if it was temporary, Russ was going to be my roommate.