Page 101 of Shattering

Gray chuckled, rubbing his face. "Aye, well, wouldn't mind bein' able to walk without feelin' like I've been hit by a bus."

Byron grabbed a weight, rolling his shoulders. "So. How's it goin' with Cadi?"

Gray sighed, stretching his arms. "Slow."

Byron raised a brow. "Slow? Thought you were livin' back in the house?"

Gray nodded. "Aye. But it's... different. She's not pushin' me away, but she's not pullin' me back in, either."

Byron frowned. "She still angry?"

Gray shook his head. "Not angry. Just..." He exhaled. "Cautious. She's slow to trust again. I get it. But I wish it'd move faster."

Byron grinned, cracking his neck. "Alright, mate, listen. As someone who has successfully bedded half of Europe-"

Gray groaned. "Christ, Byron."

Byron held up a hand. "Let me finish. As someone who has successfully bedded half of Europe, I feel uniquely qualified to offer shite advice on the matter."

Gray chuckled despite himself. "This should be good."

Byron grinned. "Women, right? They love a grand gesture. Big speeches, stormin' into airports, doin' the Titanic pose on a ferry-"

Gray gave him a flat look. "Aye, 'cause nothin' says I'm sorry for bein' a dick like standin' on a boat screamin' I'm the king o' the world."

Byron shrugged. "Mate, worked for Leo."

Gray shook his head. "Christ, ye're an idiot, boy-o."

Byron grinned. "Aye, but ye love me for it."

Gray rolled his eyes, checking the time. "Come on. Pub?"

Byron grinned. "Now ye're speakin' me language."

"The Lion & Harp." had been their hangout from the time they could legally drink.

A proper old-school pub, no nonsense, no frills, just good pints and better stories. The kind of place where the seats were worn, the air always carried the faint scent of beer and wood polish, and the regulars had probably been coming since the dawn of time. The pints were always poured right, and the bartender knew your life story.

Gray and Byron pushed through the doors, the air filled with the smell of beer, old wood, and history.

Behind the bar stood John, who'd been there since they were teenagers. The same John they had once tried to sneak past with a fake ID, failing spectacularly.

Byron grinned as he leaned against the bar. "Alright, John. Get the heroes of Manchester a pint, will ya?"

John didn't even blink. "You're a menace, Byron."

Byron clutched his chest. "That's Mr. Menace to you."

John sighed. "Same as always?"

Gray nodded. "Aye, mate."

John poured two pints, sliding them over without a fuss. "Try not to break anythin' this time."

Byron grinned. "No promises."

They took their drinks to a corner booth, settling in.

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