"I would have gone with you," Jake insists quietly, his jaw clenched belligerently. "Or covered for you if you wanted to be alone. I—" his voice dies in his throat as he tries to explain that he wouldn't have minded going to those bars with Cougar for more than one reason, and none of them are because he's such a good friend.

"I would have wanted to go," he finally makes himself say, ducking down to pick up the dog so he can fuss with it and not make eye contact. "With you. To those bars."

Still mostly ducked over the wriggling puppy, he chances a glance up to see Cougar's face, knowing that he needs to see his expression to know what he's thinking. Cougar and plain words have never been close friends.