Greg didn't plan on doing either, and he just watched the man out of the corner of his eye as he got the beer he was looking for and popped it open on the door of the fridge, taking a long drink before having a breath for air.
He watched Wilson go about cleaning up, leaning to the counter with his hip, and he rubbed a hand at his cold-red cheek.
"We have to talk," He had thought about it, and it came down to that.