Gagne hated sitting near the door of the bar, both because of the draft, and because you just never knew. But he was still a little woozy and the closest stool seemed inviting.
“One of each, Goner?” Thorn called from back near the coffeemaker.
Gagne nodded and regretted it. Should have just said yes, but that probably would have hurt too.
Thorn brought his…
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