Bad Willie grinned hugely.  “You’re in love with her man. Big cold ass Nolan is in love with Ciara.”

Swede pulled Nolan back as he lunged for Bad Willie.  Swede’s beefy arms planted him on the barstool as Bad Willie cackled. “No fights in my bar.”

Nolan looked pleadingly at Swede, “For god’s sake man shut him up. I’m not in love with Ciara. I’m not.  I just…”

Swede studied him. “You lose sleep over her.” He held up a hand to stop Nolan. “Not done. You want to be with her yes? Not just sex.  But just be with her? You do small things. Cook dinner? Steal daffodils from my wife’s garden maybe.”

Nolan rapped his head repeatedly against the oak bar.  “Oh god what have I done.”

Bad Willie’s cackles grew in volume until Swede cut him off with a look. “You see someday young Willie.  Love not so funny when it’s you.” He shook a thick finger at Willie. “You ask him,” he gestured at Nolan who had just taken a shot of whiskey straight from the bottle.  “You ask him, young Willie, how love feels.”

Nolan took another shot. “It feels like I just shook hands with the devil.” He groaned and bounced his head off the bar again.

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