“Back when you were fun,” Wyatt says wistfully. “I miss those days.” I screw up my face. “Cash was fun?” Wyatt sips his Shiner Bock. “Hard to believe, I know.” “I’m still fun.” Cash crosses his arms, beer dangling over his taut stomach. The pose makes his biceps strain against the sleeves of his T-shirt. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
