Page 35 of Out in the Country

“Yeah, but then I’d have to type it out for everyone, and ain’t nobody got time for that.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I grumble as I angrily type out a message.

EVERETT: Yes and that’s why I’m mad every birthday because I hate surprises and he plans something big

OTTO: That’s super cute

CASE: Right? I was just thinkin’ that

SORREN: I seriously can’t with any of you right now.

SORREN: Everett man up and go talk to Hayden before I end up in another one of these god damn group texts with 83584947 notifications

WAYLON: The notifications are an exaggeration but the advice is legit

OTTO: See? Told you—Sorren for the win!

SORREN: Don’t do that

WAYLON: (laughing emoji)

“Finish up the car and then get out of here.”

I look at the clock on the wall. “It’s only one.”

“And you’re more useful to me when you’re walkin’ around here with that goofy fuckin’ I-got-laid grin.”

He’s not wrong, but I still can’t believe I’m actin’ like this.

“I’m sorry, Hank.” I clear my throat and throw my phone onto the workbench beside me. “I didn’t mean to get behind today. I’ll get this taken care of right now.”

“You know damn well that’s not what I mean.”

“What’s up, losers?” Otto asks as he bursts into the garage bay.

“No one fuckin’ invited you; get out,” Hank barks.

“We’re here to save the day!” Case sings as he jumps and strikes a pose that has Hank fighting a grin. Still freaks me out that the guy actually has more than one facial expression sometimes.

“I’m getting a headache,” my boss grumbles, but now he’s not even hiding his amusement.

“Go home, Everett, you’re takin’ up space,” Otto says, and my cheeks heat. I don’t like feeling useless, and I don’t slack off at work.

“Come on, man, be nice. Can’t you see the poor guy is all tied up in knots?” Case says with a grin before looking back at me. “Seriously though, go home and work your shit out. We got you covered today.”

“No, I’m fine. I—”

“Brother,” Otto says while throwing an arm over my shoulders, “you are far from fine, but I reckon that once you talk to your man you’ll be right as rain.”

“He leave yet?” Waylon asks and then rolls his eyes when he sees me. “Seriously, man, I even took the long way to get here.”

“Y’all, I’m notthatbehind on work.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Sorren grumbles as he stomps into the garage. “You,” he says, pointing at me, “go home. And you two,”—Otto and Case freeze like they’re facin’ down Flora Thayer—“go back to work.”

“Why does Waylon get to stay?” Case pouts, and it almost makes me smile.

“Because he’s going to annoy me less than you two.”

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