"Hey, assholes, if you're not gonna share, keep that shit in the bedroom," I say with a smirk, full of shit, even though there is a part of me that's distantly jealous. Not of either one of them in particular. Seeing them together has a way of reminding me of what I don't have anymore.

Looking to Steve, I say, "Yeah, man. I surf. Wasn't a whole fuckin' lot else to do, 'round here, before I ended up with the bar."