“Including you,” he finished.

“Yes. Including me. Not just because you loved me. Because you were afraid of losing more than you already had.”

“I did love you,” he said. “I still do.”

“I know. I’m not trying to put this all on you. I was an idiot. It was mostly my fault. I admit that. But your love back then bordered on the desperate. You channeled your grief into a grasping need. I was afraid of suffocating. I don’t want to sound like an amateur shrink, but you needed to mourn. You needed to put it behind you, not suppress it. But you wouldn’t face it.”

“You thought my playing again would make me face it,” he said.

“Yes.”

“It’s not like this was a cure-all.”

“I know,” she said. “But I think it helped you let go a little.”

“And that’s why you think now is a good time for me to move in.”

Jessica swallowed hard. “If you want,” she said. “If you feel ready.”

He looked up in the air and said, “I’ll need more closet space.”

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“Done,” she whispered. “Whatever you want.”

She snuggled into him. He put his arms around her, pulled her close, and felt very much at home.

It was a sweltering morning in Tucson, Arizona. A big man opened his front door.

“Are you Burt Wesson?”

The big man nodded. “Can I help you with something?”

Win smiled. “Yes,” he said. “I think you can.”

For Larry and Craig,

the coolest brothers a guy could ever have.

If you don’t believe me, just ask them.

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