Motormouth shakes her head and rubs her hand up and down Finn's arm. "No apology needed. We heard what you were dealing with, and we went through it, too. I only got eighty-three days clean, so we get it. And trust me, I'm way more likely to relapse than you, so there's that."
Preacher moves closer and snakes his arm around Motormouth's waist. "Everything will be fine. For us and you guys."
Finn nods and turns to gesture toward the table. "Can you stay for a while?"
Motormouth and Preacher look at each other and then back at us. "Yeah, we got time." With a smile, they follow us to the table. It's still tense as we all take our seats, but Motormouth has the whole damn club laughing within minutes. Just as I finally relax again, the door swings open, and I jump. Finn squeezes his
