It'd be damn near impossible to ignore that not five minutes ago we were attached at the mouth. There's something... a low hum of tension settled down in my limbs, hands in my lap, shoulders hunched, but I make a brave go of being the friend. Lending an ear. Whatever the fuck. That was the whole point of all this anyway, right?

All of it sounds too damn familiar. Fights that Logan and I had, over and over. We don't talk anymore. Bullshit. Or maybe not.

I watch him, letting him talk, and I got no fucking idea whether Hobbes knows him at all. I've never even really seen them together. I wouldn't know. But what I can guess, about Mike, about all of this, explains a whole fucking lot. "What are you afraid of?"