I still can't figure out how this happened. One minute I was agreeing to meet Valarie for coffee later this week, and the next, Declan and Elias are dragging me into some testosterone-fueled bonding session they've dubbed "boys' night."

I haven't even had a proper second date with Valarie yet, and now I'm at a bar with her other two boyfriends. My stomach churns at the thought. If this goes poorly, will they report back to her that I'm too boring, too stiff, too... whatever they've already decided I am?

I'm not used to this. Any of it. Sharing space with these two feels like I've wandered into an entirely different ecosystem, one I wasn't bred for. They're loud, confident, and so perfectly in sync with one another that it's like watching two halves of the same coin.

Declan ordered the beer for the table the second we sat down, and Elias hasn't stopped giving him shit about how he's a cop even while doing the most "dad" thing ever, which is making sure everyone has a drink in hand.

I glance down at the glass of beer in front of me.

Beer.

Bitter, lukewarm, and definitely not my drink of choice.

I'd prefer a glass of wine or maybe a good scotch, but the thought of asking for either in this bar feels like social suicide. Declan and Elias are already halfway through their glasses, laughing over something that happened at one of their jobs. I lift the glass to my lips and take a sip, trying to hide my wince as the taste hits me.

"Not a beer guy, huh?" Elias's voice cuts through the noise of the bar, and I nearly choke. Am I that transparent?

I clear my throat. "It's fine."

His grin is wolfish, and I can't tell if he's teasing or genuinely curious. "Next time, just say something. This isn't a frat house; we can get you something else."

"Beer's fine," I repeat, but I sip it slower this time, trying to appear casual.

Declan smirks, leaning back in his chair. "Elias has this thing where he assumes everyone drinks like him. You'll learn to ignore it."

"Oh, fuck off, Declan. I didn't even order this shit. You did," Elias snaps back, but there's no heat in his tone. They're ribbing each other like brothers, the kind of easy dynamic that I've only ever seen from the outside.

And that's the thing. This feels like their space. I don't fit here, and every sip of this godawful beer only reinforces that fact. My Aston Martin is parked outside like a neon sign screaming, "I don't belong." When Elias made a comment about it earlier, half-joking, half-serious, it stung more than I'd care to admit.

"You might wanna think about a less flashy car," Elias had said, nudging me as we walked into the bar. "You know, one that doesn't scream 'please steal me.'"

I couldn't tell if he was teasing or genuinely trying to help, but either way, it's lodged in my brain. Now, I'm mentally tallying how much a more discreet vehicle would cost me. Something practical, like a Ford or maybe a Toyota. God, how the mighty have fallen.

Declan leans forward, breaking my train of thought. "So, Adrian. What's your deal? Hobbies? Interests? What do you do when you're not slicing people open?"

I blink at him, caught off guard. "Uh, I paint sometimes. Digital art mostly."

Elias perks up immediately, his eyebrows lifting with genuine interest. "No shit? You're into digital art? Didn't peg you for the artsy type."

"It's just a hobby," I say quickly, feeling heat creep up my neck. "Something to unwind with."

I don't know why I even brought up my art. That's something I don't tell people about. It's something I've never told anyone about.

Elias leans back in his chair, swirling the beer in his glass like he's mentally recalibrating. "Man, that's awesome. I'm a digital artist for work. Freelance mostly. It's how I pay my bills. Well, that and the occasional bartending shift. You ever think about doing it professionally?"

I shake my head, caught somewhere between impressed and intimidated. "No, it's personal. I don't think I'd ever want to make it more than that."

"That's fair," Elias says, tipping his glass toward me in a casual toast. "But seriously, I'd love to see what you've done. I mean, I probably won't critique it because, you know, I like having my teeth intact, but I'd still wanna see it."

Declan chuckles, adding with a smirk, "Yeah, same here. Valarie mentioned you were creative, but I didn't realize she meant with art."

There's a pause as I take another sip of beer, hoping it hides the nervous energy buzzing in my chest. Declan and Elias exchange one of those loaded glances, their silent communication impossible to read. I wonder if they're thinking I'm boring. Or worse, trying to decide if I'm even worth Valarie's time.

"What kind of stuff do you paint?" Elias asks, pulling me back into the conversation. "Like landscapes, portraits, abstract?"

"Mostly abstract," I admit. "It's... freeing, I guess. No rules to follow, no right or wrong."

Elias grins. "Abstract, huh? That tracks. Makes sense for someone with a brain like yours."

I can't tell if he's being sincere or teasing, but the warmth in his voice puts me at ease. For the first time tonight, I feel like maybe I'm not entirely out of my depth.

Declan raises his glass in agreement. "I'd say that's cool, but Elias here will probably rope you into some collaborative project before the night's over. Fair warning, he doesn't take no for an answer."

Elias snorts. "Only because my ideas are gold, asshole."

"Sure they are," Declan deadpans, and I can't help the small laugh that escapes me. Their banter is easy, almost effortless, and I can see why Valarie loves them.

Still, I wonder if I'll ever have that kind of rhythm with them. Or if I even belong here at all.

Elias sets his glass down and fixes me with an almost conspiratorial look. "Seriously though, man, if you ever wanna talk shop or need pointers, hit me up. Art people gotta stick together."

I nod, not sure what to say but oddly comforted by the offer. "Thanks. I might take you up on that." But I know that I won't. My art is my most private hobby. It's for me and only me.

Declan smiles, his gaze flicking between Elias and me. "It's cool getting to know more about you. You should let Valarie brag about you more often."

Their words are kind, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm under a microscope. They're being polite, even friendly, but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. At some point, they're going to realize I'm nothing like them. Hell, even I'm starting to realize it.

I shift in my seat, trying to ease the tension in my shoulders. The noise of the bar feels louder now, the laughter and shouting grating against my nerves.

I glance at Declan and Elias again. They're laughing about something, completely at ease with one another. I don't know if I'll ever have that with them. They've built this foundation, and I'm just the outsider trying to wedge my way in. I've never been the 'bro' type. And that's exactly the type these two are.

"Hey, you okay?" Declan's voice pulls me back, and I realize I've been staring at my beer, lost in thought.

"Yeah, fine," I lie. "Just thinking."

Elias smirks. "Careful with that. Too much thinking will ruin a good boys' night."

I force a smile, and it must be convincing enough because they don't press further. Instead, the conversation shifts back to them. Work stories, inside jokes, little glimpses of the bond they share. I try to keep up, laughing when they laugh and nodding along, but the truth is, I feel like a spectator in their world.

Still, I have to admit, they're trying. They don't shut me out or make me feel unwelcome, even if I can't shake the feeling of being out of place. By the time we finish the pitcher of beer, I'm still not entirely comfortable, but I'm not as tense as I was when we started.

As we step out of the bar, the cool night air hits me, and I take a deep breath. Declan claps me on the back, his touch firm but not aggressive. "Good night, man. Thanks for hanging out."

"Yeah," Elias adds, his grin easy and genuine. "We'll make a proper degenerate out of you yet."

I laugh despite myself, the sound surprising me. "Thanks. I'll, uh, see you guys soon."

As I walk to my car—my ridiculous, too-flashy car—I can't help but wonder if maybe this could work. Maybe I will fit in with these guys, with this group. Maybe I will find my place.

***

The coffee shop is cozy, tucked into a quiet corner of the city where the hustle seems to slow down just a little. The sun set hours ago, but we were determined to have our coffee date.

The smell of roasted beans and cinnamon fills the air, and the soft hum of conversation buzzes in the background. Valarie sits across from me, her green eyes sparkling as she stirs her latte with a little wooden stick.

"You seem quieter than usual," she says, tilting her head slightly. "Still recovering from boys' night?"

I chuckle softly, taking a sip of my black coffee. It's strong, bitter, but grounding. "Recovering might be the right word for it. Let's just say it was... different."

Her eyebrows lift, playful curiosity etched across her face. "Different, huh? Good different or bad different?"

"Good, I think," I answer honestly. "They were nice. A lot nicer than I thought they'd be. Declan asked about my hobbies. Elias made a joke about my car."

Valarie grins, leaning forward slightly. "Oh, I can only imagine. What did he say?"

"That I should consider driving something less likely to get stolen to a bar," I say, shaking my head. "I couldn't tell if he was joking or being serious, but knowing him, probably a mix of both."

She laughs, the sound light and melodic, and it settles something inside me. "That sounds like Elias," she says. "He's always got something to say. So, did you have fun at least?"

Fun. It's such a simple word, but I hesitate because I don't know how to quantify what I felt. "I did," I say eventually. "More than I expected to. They made an effort to include me, which I appreciated. But... I don't know. I guess I was nervous about it."

Her smile softens, and she reaches across the table to rest her hand over mine. Her fingers are warm, her touch gentle but reassuring. "You don't have to be nervous, Adrian. You're fitting in just fine. It's going to take time. This whole thing is new for everyone."

I glance at our hands, the way hers fits so easily over mine. "Did they say anything about me? Declan or Elias, I mean?"

Her thumb brushes lightly against the back of my hand. "They did. All good things, I promise. They like you. They said you were easy to talk to and seemed genuine."

Relief blooms in my chest, but it's quickly followed by a nervous flutter. I clear my throat, trying to push the unease aside. "That's good to hear. I guess I just don't want to feel like I'm... intruding."

"You're not," she says firmly. "And they wouldn't be trying to get to know you if they didn't want you around."

The sincerity in her voice wraps around me like a safety net, but there's still that small voice in my head, the one whispering that I don't belong in this world of easy friendship and unconventional dynamics. I squeeze her hand lightly, nodding. "Thanks. I needed to hear that."

Her lips curve into a soft smile, and for a moment, I let myself just soak in the sight of her. Valarie has this way of making everything feel lighter, like the weight I carry isn't quite as heavy when she's near.

We fall into easy conversation, holding hands across the small table. She tells me about her week at work, the patients she's seen, the small victories that keep her going. I listen, genuinely interested, and find myself relaxing as the minutes tick by. We may work at the same hospital, but our work couldn't be more different.

"I'll be gone this weekend," she says, almost apologetically. "Declan and Elias planned a cabin getaway, and we're leaving tomorrow."

My chest tightens, a feeling I can't quite name washing over me. I know I'm not officially part of the relationship yet. We're still navigating this, figuring out how I fit into their lives and how they fit into mine. But the thought of being left out stings more than I anticipated.

"That sounds nice," I say, keeping my tone even. "You could probably use a break."

She nods, her smile tinged with excitement. "Yeah, it'll be good to get away for a bit. But I'll miss you."

The words are simple, but they chip away at the knot in my chest. "I'll miss you too."

I want to ask if I can come along, but I know I can't. I have work this weekend and a dinner with my parents, a prospect that feels more like a chore after everything that happened with my father. The memory of punching him in front of Valarie resurfaces, a flash of embarrassment and regret, but I push it aside.

"Do you have plans this weekend?" she asks, her voice pulling me back to the present.

I nod. "Work, mostly. And a dinner with my parents."

She winces slightly. "How are things with your dad? After, you know..."

"Awkward," I admit. "But manageable."

Her expression softens, and she squeezes my hand again. "I hope it goes okay."

"Me too," I say, though I'm not entirely sure I believe it.

We finish our coffee, and I walk her to her car. The crisp evening air carries the faint scent of autumn, leaves crunching underfoot as we reach the parking lot. She turns to me, her green eyes catching the glow of the streetlights.

"Thanks for this," she says softly. "I needed it."

"So did I," I admit, and before I can overthink it, I lean down to kiss her.

Her lips are warm, soft, and the world seems to quiet around us. It's a slow kiss, unhurried, but filled with something I can't quite put into words. I feel the curve of her smile against my mouth, and it's enough to make my chest ache in the best way.

When we pull back, she's looking up at me with that same smile, a mix of shyness and confidence that's uniquely hers. "Goodnight, Adrian."

"Goodnight, Valarie."

I watch her drive away, the taillights of her car disappearing into the distance. My heart feels lighter, even as my mind starts to turn over everything we've talked about. The weekend, the cabin, the boys' night, the dynamic we're all trying to build. It's a lot to navigate.