“I understand. That’s kind of sweet.”
“It is until one family falls out with another and then your friend becomes an enemy purely because of work.” Bobby scoffs softly. “Such is the way of the world.”
“And this guy, Conor? Who does he work for?”
“I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest, but he’s friends with Jack to a degree, so it must be a family thing.”
“Fair.”
Bobby eventually pulls up outside a sports bar and hops out of the car with a promise to be back soon. I turn on the radio and sink into late-night jazz while waiting and try not think about what Dean might be doing right now. It would be a bad idea to call him, but the thought of hearing his voice makes my stomach flip.
I’m so distracted that I jump out of my skin as the back door opens and Bobby pours a drunken man into the back seat. He flops across the seat only to be hauled back upright and buckled in.
“There ya go, buddy,” Bobby says, patting his cheek. “You’re lucky Jack knows where you live.”
“Whatever, man,” Conor whines. “Ain’t no fuckin’ point anyway.”
My brow lifts. Tears glitter in his eyes, and while the stink of vodka seems to radiate off him, he seems sad. “Hey, Conor, I’m Clover.”
“Sup,” he mumbles, then burps.
Bobby climbs into the driver’s seat with a sigh. “Not long, Conor, just don’t puke in my car, alright?”
“I won’t,” Conor mumbles. “Unless it’s puke of tears!”
“Wow.” I chuckle. “Bad night?”
“Don’t—” Bobby warns, but it’s too late.
Conor surges forward and clutches at the back of my seat. “What’s wrong with me?”
I shrink back slightly. “Huh?”
“I’m a decent guy. A good guy. I’m a good guy. I bought her flowers. I took her to dinner. I loved her. I cared for her. I paid for everything but she just decides I’m not good enough?”
Ah. I know a broken heart when I see one. “I’m sorry,” I say. “Sometimes these things don’t work out.”
“That’s whatshesaid!” He slumps back into the back seat and groans. “I did everything right. I just don’t understand. When you… when you love someone, why isn’t that enough? Why isn’t it enough, man?”
“I don’t know, dude,” Bobby replies. “But sleep will help.”
“I don’t wanna sleep, I wanna see her.”
“Who’s her?” I whisper to Bobby, but he shrugs.
“No clue.”
“I’ve been trying to get her back but she won’t listen, man. She just won’t listen.”
“I think that’s a sign,” I say softly. “She’s not worth it if she won’t listen, and you can’t make her. Maybe it’s just not meant to be.”
“Make her,” Conor mumbles. “I’ll make her.”
“Huh?”
I turn in time to see him drag his phone from his pocket and blearily hit a few keys, then he presses it to his ear. “Hey, babe, it’s me.”
“Oh, God,” I whisper. “Maybe drive faster, Bobby.”