“Holy shit, Gavin,” Brooks says, dripping with sweat as we heft the claw-foot tub from the back of my truck. “Are you really that into baths?”

It’s been a long winter finishing up the interior of the farmhouse. As much as the project had inspired me in the past, it took everything in me to find any motivation to press on much further. I spent a lot of nights laying on that mattress in the master bedroom just staring at the ceiling, drinking myself into stupidity and passing out. Being lonely alone was better than trying not to feel lonely amongst my brothers down at the clubhouse.

All that’s left are the finishing touches. I hate to admit that she’s right, but an outdoor shower is a logical addition for my lifestyle. After a day of working in the fields or hunting or fishing, being able to just strip down and leave the dirt outside makes perfect sense.

“You know if I help you put this in, I get full access to it anytime I want,” he says. “Forever. The ladies are going to love this shit.”

I roll my eyes at him. I know the ladies already love this shit. Dirty birdies have been flocking around nonstop, checking out the progress. Seems like everyone’s trying to play house with me, and all I want is to be left alone.

“I know exactly what kind of ladies would want to bathe with your nasty ass, and there’s not enough bleach or penicillin on this mountain to clean up that mess, dude.”

“You know I always bring my own bleach. Too bad hot doctor isn’t around anymore to prescribe the penicillin, though.”

I pretend like I don’t hear that. Nonstop for the past few months, he’s been hammering on me about her, reminding me of what an asshole I’m being.

“If you’re so obsessed with her, why don’t you go date her yourself?” I cringe as I say it, instantly regretting even suggesting he goes anywhere near her. It would completely destroy me knowing the two of them were together.

He laughs. “Maybe I will. Maybe I’ll bring her as my date to your housewarming party. Bribe her with a good old-fashioned Misfit mustache ride right here in this bathtub while you lay around feeling sorry for yourself.”

“The only way you’d be able to get anything remotely resembling a date with Sloan is if you chopped your damn hand off or something and she had to sew it back on.” He knows he’s getting me a little riled up, but I’m trying not to show it. She doesn’t want to be here; not with me, not with anyone.

Still, almost compulsively, I keep adding things to the house that I know she would like. I don’t know if it’s because I still have some sort of hope in the back of my mind that maybe things will change, or if I just like the same things she does. Probably a combination of the two. Maybe someday she’ll walk through that door and never want to leave. Even if that doesn’t happen, I’ll still have a really nice house.

I grab my drill and begin mounting the brass fixtures to the piece of barn wood while Brooks runs the drain line. We hook the plumbing up through the laundry room window. It’s a lot less effort than I expected. I take off my boots and sit in the empty tub, overlooking the giant field in the backyard.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask as Brooks slides in on the other end.

“Just making sure there’s room for two,” he laughs.

“Well, I was gonna see if you wanted to help me with the bed frame, but apparently I’m giving you the wrong idea.”

“Oh, I know there’s room for at least three in your bed. Probably more like five,” he says, hopping out of the bathtub. “Do you want to know how?”

“I think it’s time for me to start drinking for the day,” I say, heading towards the kitchen.

“Good idea,” Brooks agrees. “Then we can build that big old beast of a bed frame that I know you would’ve never in a million years picked out for yourself. And then you can call that girl and tell her to come up here and pick which one of us she likes better.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” I say, pulling two beers out of the fridge and handing him one. “I’m over her.”

“Sure,” he says. “I can totally tell. Especially by the way you’ve been moping around all day every day. And the way you avoid all club functions unless I drag you there by the dick. The way you haven’t even so much as looked at a dirty birdie in months. You gonna live the rest of your life like this?”

“Maybe I will.” I shrug. It’s like he’s on a mission to piss me off today. “What difference does it make to you? You know what she said. You know what she did. My old man will spend his dying breath making our lives a living hell if she ever comes back.”

“How is that any different than how he acts now?” He starts picking up pieces of lumber from the living room and dragging them up the steps. “And really, what did she do that was so terrible? Avoided telling you about her body count? Did you just up and start rambling on to her about all the girls you’ve fucked?”

“Oh, you know it’s deeper than that.”

“Is it really, though?”

“She was working with the cops. She ran off on me to the police because she thought I would hurt her. That’s just reality.”

“Gavin, she was shot at. She went on some sort of backwoods high-speed car chase with Clutch. She watched you dump body bags from a delivery truck. This was in a 24-hour time frame. I mean I know that sounds normal to you or me, but…”

I have thought about those days a million times over, replayed every second. It’s true. I put her through a lot, and I thought it was just normal. I just assumed she trusted me enough. That she could just accept who I am and what I do and move on.

I grab the logs and begin lining them up.

“This is going to be real pretty, Gav,” Brooks says, stepping back, looking at how all the pieces of wood are going to be put together. “Sure would be a shame to see it go to waste on some broad you decide is just ‘tolerable enough’ to spend your life with.”

“You are really riding me hard on this one, dude. I don’t get it.” I grab my screw gun and begin fitting the brackets to the logs. “Why are you so personally invested?”

“I just want you to be happy. Since you’ve come back from college you haven’t been right. Close, but not right. That girl did something to you that made me feel like I had my best friend back. She lit a fire under your ass.”

“Hold these for me.” I hand him a couple of screws while I start working the pieces of wood together. I’m really just trying to brush him off.

“You better do something before it’s too late.”

“I will, alright?” I growl. He’s probably right. I need to do something. At least get some closure or something. No sense in chasing after some dream for the rest of my life if she’s already moved on and settled down.

“And when you do… I will help you finish this bed. But until then, I’m gonna sit in your bathtub and drink all your beer.” He sets the screws just out of reach and skips down the hallway.

“You’re a real fucker, Brooks.”