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So I did just that.

The second stop on my apology tour wasn’t going to be any easier.

I found Archer sitting at the bar, picking at the label on his beer bottle with his thumbnail. The relief I felt that he hadn’t left Ashland pushed me forward until I reached his side, pulling out the barstool beside his and taking a seat.

The bartender stopped in front of me. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll take whatever you got on tap. Thanks.” I learned my lesson already about the dangers of drinking whiskey, and I had no desire to repeat that mistake.

He looked to Archer. “What about you? Need a refill?”

Archer nodded. “That’d be great. Put it on his tab,” he said, pointing at me. When the bartender looked at me in question, I nodded, letting him know it was okay. Hell, a beer was the least I could do after being such a shitty friend when all he was trying to do was help me.

I waited until our beers were in front of us, lifting mine and taking a gulp before I spoke. “I owe you an apology.”

Archer snorted. “Yeah. No fucking shit. So apologize already.”

I let out a chuckle. Should have known the asshole wouldn’t make this easy on me. “I thought I just did.”

He spun on his stool to face me. “No. You said you owed me one. So go ahead.” He shifted in his seat like he was making himself comfortable. “I’m ready.”

My grin widened as I shook my head at his antics. “I’m sorry, Arch. I was being an idiot.”

He took a pull from his beer. “Idiot isn’t exactly the word I would use. More like fucking moron. But please. Continue.”

“You were right.”

His cheeks stretched into a grin. “That’s what I was looking for.”

“Prick,” I muttered good-naturedly into my beer. After another gulp, I let out a sigh. I might have felt better after the conversation with my parents, and now apologizing to Archer, but there was one last thing I needed to do, and my gut and chest told me it was the most important mission I’d ever had.

“I fucked up with Iris. I don’t know if I’ll be able to fix it.”

“Have you tried?” He arched a brow, giving me a look that said he knew the answer to that already. “You won’t know unless you suck it up and go see her.” He was right, of course. And I would have been lying if I said I wasn’t being a chickenshit when it came to making things right with Iris. “You love her, don’t you?”

I stared down into my beer and nodded. “Yeah. I do. Fuck, man. She owns me.”

Archer reached over and clapped me on my shoulder. “Then what the hell are you still doing here with me, man? We’re good. You and I will always be good. Get out of here and go get your girl back.”

I planned on doing that. But there was one last thing I needed to say before that. “Thank you. I don’t think I’ve said that. I want you to know I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Moving here, agreeing to help me, even when you thought my plan was suicidal. You’re a good friend, Arch.”

“No shit.” He grinned at me. “Now go on. You’ve got something more important to do.”

Iris was in her workshop when I got to her place later than night. She was at the sideboard she’d been working on, earbuds in her ears, hair up, and her ratty restoration clothes on. According to her mom, she’d been out here all day, and I knew this was the place she went when she needed to decompress and forget her stress for a while.

I was the reason she was in here now. I was going to make it right, but first, I couldn’t help but stand in the open entryway door and watch her. She hummed along, occasionally singing to whatever was playing from her earbuds. I didn’t have the first clue what it was, some pop song by the sounds of it. And she was absolutely butchering it.

If you had asked me yesterday (or even just a couple hours ago), I would have told you there was nothing she couldn’t do.

Now I knew better. My girl had many talents. But singing was definitely not one of them.

From the sounds (and looks) of it, she’d gotten to the crescendo. She used the sanding block in her hand as a microphone as she closed her eyes and started belting out the lyrics as she shook her hips and started dancing around the workspace, almost as badly as she sang. But Christ, she was fucking adorable.

She spun in my direction, mid-song, finally spotting me, and the words she’d been scream-singing turned into a shriek.

“Gah! North!” She threw the sanding block right at my head and missed by a mile, then stamped her foot. “You scared the living shit out of me.”

I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face, not when she was being so cute. Her nose was scrunched up, bunching those freckles I loved so goddamn much.