Chapter 1:

The Friday Night Tradition

I poured another round of whiskey into our three glasses, the amber liquid catching the warm light from my living room lamp. Friday nights with Ronan and Soren had been sacred for three years now. Ever since freshman orientation, the three of us had claimed this night as ours no excuses, no outsiders. Just us in my Chicago apartment, laughing, drinking, and pretending the real world didn’t exist for a few hours.

“Here you go, boys,” I said, handing them their glasses before dropping back onto the oversized couch between them.

Ronan took his drink with that signature smirk of his. He was sprawled...