Page 2 of Man Advantage

“I’m not pulling. I’m negotiating. Your hair started this, not me.” Ford wrestled another section flat.

“Big Cole doesn’t pull.”

“Big Cole does everything better,” Ford said, easy, not looking up. “It’s very annoying. Hold still.”

Cole poured another round of batter and kept quiet. He’d learned early that the trick to living in a house that wasn’t yours was to be useful and silent and never act like you were owed a place in it. He was handy, so he did the small fixes nobody asked him to: the third stair before it could announce every step to the street, the storm door where it had started to stick, making pancakes or french toast every morning. The whole time, he had to remind himself this was temporary, even if it was long-term. The day would eventually come when either he was traded, or he moved into a place of his own.

His phone buzzed against the counter. He wiped a hand on the towel over his shoulder and turned it face-up.

Russ

that apartment over the hardware store finally opened up. one bedroom, heat included. landlord owes me a favor

grab it before somebody else does, man. it’s the only thing in town under a grand

Cole read it twice. This was the clean exit he’d been telling Russ he wanted: one bedroom, heat included, and a favor already called in. He set the phone face-down on the counter and worked at keeping his face still. He didn’t manage it.

“Who died?” Ford asked.

He’d finished the ponytail. It was still crooked. He watched Cole over the top of Charlotte’s head, concern etched in his features.

Cole’s stomach churned. Finding a place of his own had been the ultimate goal. He was only staying with Ford because there’d been no rentals available since an apartment building burned down early in the year. Since he’d had a place to stay, Cole hadn’t wanted to take a unit another family truly needed. Still, facing the end of his time with Ford and Charlotte made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t been prepared for.

“Nobody. Russ found me an apartment.”

Ford’s smile went still, the warmth draining out of it, the forced grin he supplied everyone else when he wasn’t in the mood to talk taking its place. A year in the same house had taught Cole the difference.

Was it possible Ford wasn’t as eager for Cole to leave as he’d thought?

Cole had spent his whole life wanting to matter enough that somebody would notice his absence. Now somebody would, and all it did was make the idea of leaving feel worse. You could walk out of a place that wouldn’t miss you. He’d done it more than once and barely felt the door close. This one would leave a mark.

“Yeah?” Ford said. “That’s great. Where at?”

“Over the hardware store.”

“I know the one. Good bones. Cold in the dead of winter, but good bones.” He didn’t look at Cole once as he rambled about the apartment. Then he clapped his hands once, bright, and turned to Charlotte. “Okay. Shoes. Backpack. We are officially late, which means we’re doing the fast song.”

“I hate the fast song.”

“Everybody hates the fast song. That’s why it works. The faster we go, the faster you can get away from it.”

She groaned and slid off the stool. Charlotte pushed as much as any kid, but when Ford used his dad voice, she knew the time for arguing was over. Cole had watched a whole locker room of grown men fall in line for it.

The kitchen went quiet with just the two of them and the griddle ticking as it cooled.

“You gonna take it?” Ford asked.

“Haven’t decided.”

“It’s a good price.”

“It is.”

Ford leaned a hip against the island, this time not even bothering to hide how much pain he was in. “You know how little is out there right now. There’s even less at that price, not with heat included.” He waited. “A place like that’s gone by Sunday.”

“I hear you.”

“I’m just saying. Russ isn’t wrong.”