Sam lounged back on a bar stool, tipping a brown bottle to his lips. As Matt approached, Sam handed him a bottle of Dogfish Head 60, a good IPA that Matt defaulted to when he didn’t know what he wanted.
“Any news on what started the fire?” Matt asked.
“Cigarette. The boy insisted it was his, even though there was lip gloss on the filter.”
“He’s taking the blame for her.”
“Wouldn’t you?” Sam asked, but Matt didn’t respond because they both already knew what his answer would be. He looked across the bar to where Shay was. In order to protect the girl he loved, of course he would.
Matt’s eyes moved over to the beer taps, and he wondered if one day Mason’s beer would be available at local bars across the state.
It was hard to imagine, but at the same time, Mason never disappointed. He w
