Linwood “Woody” Robinson has a routine.
He works for his baby brother in construction, buys three lottery
tickets every week, and lusts after his best friend from high school.
He’s done the same thing for twenty years.

Eddison “Eddie”
Howard owns the only gas station in their small South Carolina town,
sells lottery tickets, and lusts after his best friend from afar.
They joke around but never speak their truth. He knows they’re
cowards but can’t seem to find the courage to bridge the gulf between
them.

And then they win eighty million dollars.

Life changes.

They go from never talking about their feelings to
facing the world together.

Can anything pull them apart?

A sharp knocking jolted him out of bed long before his alarm clock the following morning. He snagged a wrinkled T-shirt from the floor and dragged it over his head before trudging through the house.

Who the hell is up this early, and where’s the fire?

“Dude. DUDE. My dude.”

Woody stared blearily at his best friend and old crush. “I have no idea where your truck is.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, clearly not appreciating his attempt at a joke. “Dude. Did you see the news?”

He tried to read the paper being waved violently in front of his face. “If you’d stop flailing, I might get a look at it now.”

“You won.” Eddie shoved the paper in his face.

“You actually did it. Eighty million dollars.”

“Are you kidding me?” He stumbled back against the door, the paper falling to the floor at his feet. “Holy shit. I won. If this is a joke, I’m kicking your ass all across the Appalachians.”

“You couldn’t kick my ass to the mailbox.”

Eddie grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him into a hug, slapping his back roughly. “It couldn’t

have happened to a better man.”

“I won.” Woody repeated the words in his mind over and over; they still didn’t quite sink in. “My

numbers were right for once. Holy shit. We won. What the hell do we do now? Are we the only

winners?”

“Don’t lose your ticket.” He grinned at him, and Woody’s heart skipped a beat as he stepped closer.

“Now, I don’t want you to think I’m doing this because we’ve suddenly got money, ’cause I’ve wanted

to do it for years.”

“What are—” Woody was cut off by lips crashing against his in an awkward but aggressive first kiss. He caught Eddie by his shirt to keep him from backing away. “Why not give it another shot?

Just to celebrate our win?”

The second, third, and fourth kisses went far more smoothly, though no less hungrily. They made

out plastered against the front door. Woody hoped none of his neighbors decided to drive by; they might wind up with more of a view than they bargained for.

“I swear I’m not doing this to get a part of your new fortune.” Eddie bit playfully at his bottom lip.

“It’s a nice bonus, though. You can pay for our first date. And yes, we’re the only winner. So… how do

you feel about splitting eighty million dollars?”

It was Woody’s turn to cut him off with another kiss. He stopped counting them, content to know

his pure dumb luck hadn’t abandoned him after all.

Now, what the hell are we going to do with forty million dollars apiece?