“Nope.” Andrew finished off the one that was nearly empty, pushed the glass to the other side of the bar, and went for the second.

Logan raised an eyebrow and took the stool next to Andrew.

One of the regular bartenders came over and put the empty glass in the sink. Andrew didn’t miss the wide-eyed look she shot Logan, but he did ignore it.

“What can I get you, Logan?”

“I guess I’ll have what he’s having.” Logan jerked a thumb in Andrew’s direction. “But just one. Looks like I’ll be driving tonight.”

Andrew grunted and took another long pull.

“What’s going on, man?”

Andrew kept his eyes on the wooden bar top. “Got my scan results. There’s still cancer, and I have to get more chemo.”

“Shit. Man, I’m sorry.” Logan put a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “That sucks, Andrew.”

Andrew nodded, not sure he could respond and keep it together.

Logan removed his hand and sat beside him for a few minutes. His beer arrived, and they silently watched the basketball game on the television mounted above the bar.

“How much more? Chemo, I mean?”

“Two more cycles.”

“That’s not so bad.”

Andrew glared at his friend.

“Don’t look at me like that. You got this. You’ve made it this far, you can do two more.”

They sat like that, side by side at the bar, barely speaking, for two hours. Andrew didn’t want to talk, and Logan was a good enough friend to know it. He simply sat there, a silent show of support, and Andrew was grateful for it.

But just like the lucky feeling he had this morning, his gratitude for Logan was short-lived.

When Jeni sidled in on his other side and asked how many drinks he’d had, Andrew turned to Logan.

“Seriously? You called my sister?”

“No,” Logan said. “I texted her.”

Andrew rolled his eyes.

Jeni prodded Andrew’s bicep. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“It was a stupid question.”

“Why didn’t you call me? You know I’m here to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“It’s better to sit and sulk in silence, drinking away your sorrows?”

“Sure. I feel better.”

“You look terrible.”

Was she always this annoying? “Thank you, dear sister.”

“It’s not the end of the world, Andrew. You’ll get through this like you did the others. Now snap out of it.”

“No cancer, no opinion.”

That shut her up. For a few minutes, at least.

He really hadn’t had that much to drink. He’d been here three hours and had nursed four beers. He was a big guy, and even though he’d lost some of his bulk over the last few months, he’d never been a cheap drunk. He barely felt anything.