"Chicken and drinks sounds cool," Ronan said, and he meant it. "You could still do that. Sell them at the race track, save up some money, get your own place."
He knew that wasn't probably what Noah meant, that it wouldn't be the same if he was a ghost, probably. But he had to be able to reclaim his life somehow. If not literally, then figuratively. Although Ronan would have personally preferred both.
He raised his eyebrows at the statement that Noah didn't have anyone to drink with. "What, I don't count?"