He really, truly hadn’t been planning on it, but when Hamil asks him to meet for a drink on a Wednesday a couple of weeks later and requests “somewhere in lower London”, Lucas hears himself suggesting Logan’s even before he remembers that Sarah works tonight.

He texts Hamil on the way to the subway. ’They’ve got fifty cent wings on Wednesdays. My roommate works there. ’

Lucas’s phone buzzes just as he’s at the bottom of the stairs underground. ’Ah the mysterious new roommate! Does this mean I get to meet her?’

‘I’m not sure if she’s working tonight,’ Lucas replies. He shoves his phone in his pocket and spends the next ten minutes on the train wondering why he bothered lying. Sarah’s his friend. It’s not weird to grab a drink at the place your friend works. It’s not like he picked it because she works there - they have cheap wings! - but it’s certainly not a drawback.

Sarah’s not at home when Lucas gets there. He guesses she’s probably still at school or the library or a coffee shop or wherever she goes during the way, since she doesn’t usually leave for work until a bit later. He grabs a shower, changes, and then heads back out to meet Hamil.

Hamil sends him a text when he’s a block away. ’I grabbed a table by the bar. To the left when you walk in.’

He doesn’t respond; by the time he’s finished Reading Hamil’s message, he’s basically outside the door. Logan’s is clearly a dive, not in the sort of intentional way that all those bullshit hipster places have adopted, but it looks decent enough.

The crowd inside is a mix of guys in crisp pressed shirts and Patagonia vests and girls in ironed pencil skirts, with a good handful of more casually-dressed people scattered throughout. Lucas spots Hamil right away; he’s always wearing an expensive version of old, shitty clothes, and he fits in pretty well with the try-hard groups in the bar. Lucas’s told him a bunch of times that he looks like a jackass wearing a $100 pre-torn shirt, but they’re old friends and he loves the guy, even if he is a jackass, too.

“Hey buddy,” Lucas greets, folding his oversized frame onto a bar-height stool and leaning over the small, rounded wooden table. “What’s up?”

“Just got here,” Hamil says. He nods his head behind him, toward the bar. “We got a hot waitress. Dark hair, tight shirt. With the ponytail.”

Oh no. Lucas’s eyes fall behind him, to where Hamil had referenced, and - yep. It’s Sarah, dressed in jeans, a faded green t-shirt (that fits very well, Lucas has to admit Hamil’s right on that), and a half-apron emblazoned with the bar’s name tied at her hips. She’s at the bar gathering a tray full of golden-colored beers and is thankfully far enough away to not have heard Hamil talking.

“Erm.” Lucas winces slightly. “So that’s Sarah, actually.”

Hamil’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, oops. Sorry. She is hot, though.” “Yes, yeah.” Lucas is not denying this. She looks especially cute today, with the slim cut of her jeans and that shirt doing absolutely nothing to hide the curves that he’d recently gotten a little closer with. She’d been sick a couple of weeks earlier - thus a bit more willing to accept help than usual - and in attempting to make her feel better he’d somehow ended up cuddling with her on their couch. It had been nice, honestly, really nice. He’s definitely not still thinking about how the turn of her waist had felt under his hands.

Sarah walks back toward them, stopping to drop off a couple of beers at a neighbouring table before she turns to set what Lucas assumes is Hamil’s beer in front of them. As she does, her eyes fall on Lucas, and she makes a surprised face. “Oh! Lucas!”

Lucas grins at her. “Hi Sarah. Figured we’d come get some of them cheap wings you were talking about. This is my buddy Hamil.”

Hamil reaches his hand out to shake hers. “Jevon Hamil,” he introduces. “Nice to meet you.”

Sarah takes it. “Nice to meet you too,” she replies with a quick smile before looking back at Lucas. Her eyes meet his and then quickly drop to her now-empty tray before flicking back up at him. She seems shy suddenly, uneasy, and Lucas hopes he hasn’t made her uncomfortable by coming here. Her weight shifts to one foot, then she says, “So what can I get for you?”

“Dealer’s choice, Sarah. Nothing too dark, though, it isn’t winter anymore.”

She smiles and nods. “I’ll make an executive decision.”

“I trust you, Sarah, you’ve got good taste. After all, you picked me as your roommate!”

“I think that actually shows that she’s got bad taste, Lucas,” Hamil cuts in, teasing. He winks at Sarah.

Lucas puts a faux-offended look on his face. “Oh come on.”

Sarah laughs at Hamil. “He came recommended from a trustworthy friend, so it was more about my faith in John’s judgment than anything,” she tells Hamil. Then she pats Lucas’s knee, which is sticking out half-into the aisle - the world is truly just not made for tall people - and adds, “But he’s more than proved himself. There are so many jars I don’t have to struggle to open anymore.”

He chuckles, remembering the jar of miso that she’d asked him to open just the day before. “You should really work on your grip strength, Sarah,” he advises.

“What for? I’ve got you around now.” There’s a new lightness in Sarah’s expression when she meets his eyes, the sense of awkwardness gone. “I’ll be back with something for you. You guys want a wing menu, too?”

Hamil nods. “Absolutely,” he answers, then she walks away. He turns to look over his shoulder, and once she’s a few tables away, he looks back and says, “Dude, you’re so into her.”

“What? Sarah? No.” Hamil’s eyebrows raise again, and Lucas shakes his head. “Not everything has to be like that. I’m always like that!”

“I agree, not everything has to be like that, but this definitely is.” Hamil takes a long sip from his beer. “I’ve known you for a thousand years, Foster. I know that look.”

Lucas scoffs. “Piss off. I’m just nice.”

Hamil shrugs. “Fine. So you don’t mind if I ask her out, then.”

Lucas glares at him. He hates old friends. They’re the worst. They know you too well and they’re impossible to hide from.

“I knew it,” Hamil says gleefully. “Don’t worry, I’m hands off. Since you’re clearly hands on-”

“I swear, Hamil, I’m going to rip your throat out.”

“Very mid-2000s Rambo of you, but you’re definitely too weak for that.”

“Oh screw that, I am definitely strong enough! You want to go outside and try, buddy?” Lucas challenges, the threat neutralized by the laughter that he’s speaking through.

Hamil grins at him again, a mischievous look in his eye. “You’ve been trying for years to get a rematch from that time I kicked your ass at your mom’s.”

“That was in elementary school, buddy! No way would it go that way today.”

“Meet you by the flagpole after school, I guess.”

Lucas laughs. He can’t think of what to reply; he figures he’ll open his mouth and just see what comes out, but just as he’s about to, Sarah reappears carrying two laminated menus and a beer.

“Amber ale, local brew,” she announces, tossing down a paper coaster and then setting the already-sweating glass in front of him. “And two menus. I’ll give you guys a couple minutes and be right back.”

“Thanks, Sarah,” Lucas says. He watches her walk to another table, her hands in the pockets of the apron, before finally looking at the menu. There are a lot of flavours, but he’s a simple guy. All he needs is an order of the salt and pepper, and probably the mango habanero, at least to start. Though there’s a flavor with a stupid name that has sumac and oregano in it, and another that’s got kimchi in the actual name. “Hamil, what are you getting?” he asks.

Hamil doesn’t reply right away, so Lucas looks up from the menu. His friend is just sitting there, grinning at him. “You’re gone,” he teases.

Lucas just shakes his head, but he does look over at Sarah again, so Hamil probably has a point. Not that he’s ever going to admit it to him. She’s taking an order from a table filled with guys wannabe suits, but ever the professional, she’s still got a smile on her face. One of the guys beckons her to come closer, a finger pointing up at the speaker and then at his ear. Lucas squints, trying to read lips - it always seems to him like he should be able to do that pretty easily, but it never works out that well - there’s something about the noise, then the guy lifts his menu. Sarah leans over to speak to him. Lucas is overwhelmed by a disgusting feeling as he realizes that the guy next to him is staring down the neckline of Sarah’s shirt.

One of the guys is speaking again. He strains to hear, and manages to catch something about a lager and then, sure enough, a request for her phone number. From where he’s sitting, Lucas can see about half of Sarah’s face, which is wearing a strained, polite smile that he knows isn’t genuine. Her reply to the guy is too quiet for him to hear, but he thinks it’s a refusal. Or well at least he hopes it is. A second later, the guy reaches out and wraps a hand around her small wrist.

Lucas tenses up, not sure what to do. He doesn’t want to go roaring in like a white knight - he knows Sarah well enough to get the feeling that she’s not any kind of damsel in distress - but at the same time, he really hates the uncomfortable expression on Sarah’s face, and he wants to help. But before he has to make a decision on how to do that, she’s already extricated herself and is backing away, tucking her hands in her apron again. He tries to catch her eye when she passes by their table, heading to the back, but fails.

Hamil doesn’t seem to have noticed anything; his face is buried in the menu when Lucas turns back. “You think they make their own buffalo sauce?” he asks.

“Erm, I don’t know,” he answers, distracted. “You know, I’ll go ask Sarah.”

“What? No, I don’t need to know that badly.” Hamil looks up, but Lucas’s already out of his seat. “Oh hell, whatever.”

He ignores Hamil and follows Sarah’s path toward the bar. He lingers sort of awkwardly outside the door to the kitchen, ignoring the annoyed look the bartender is giving him. Mercifully, Sarah reappears after a couple of minutes, pushing her way out of the kitchen with her shoulder. Lucas tries to read her face, but it’s excessively neutral, her eyes as dark as ever.

She startles when she sees Lucas. “Lucas. What’re you doing over here? Do you need something?” she asks.

“Hamil had a question about the buffalo sauce,” Lucas blurts loudly. In a much gentler tone, he adds, “And I saw that guy grab you, I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Sarah’s face softens, her mouth almost pouting. “Oh Lucas,” she breathes, shaking her head. “I’m fine.”

Lucas is not convinced. “You sure?”

She nods and gives him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure. You get used to dealing with it.”

Lucas makes a face. “That don’t make it any better, Sarah.”

Sarah reaches up and takes his hand. “You’re very sweet, Lucas,” she says, squeezing it. “But we have great bouncers and I promise it’s fine.”

He sighs and squeezes her hand back. “Okay, but if you need some asses kicked, you just give me a yell, Sarah.”

She nods at him, now clearly just humouring him, and drops his hand. “I will. Now what’s the thing with the buffalo sauce?”

“Erm.” Lucas racks his brain, trying to remember. “Oh. Hamil wants to know if it’s made in-house.”

Sarah gives him an odd look. “Of course it is. I’ll bring him a little taster cup.” She turns, not waiting for a reply, and goes back into the kitchen.

When Lucas gets back to the table, Hamil seems to have made a decision. “I’m getting three kinds,” he announces.

“Great,” Lucas says, still distracted. “Which ones, buddy?”