The thought of being with a man in an intimate capacity made goose bumps erupt all over her body in alarm, but she couldn’t deny the loneliness that tugged at her heart whenever she saw couples in love, happy. Could she ever go there again? Maybe. If she could trust. Would it terrify her? Absolutely. But she’d always been a romantic at heart. It was ingrained in her in spite of what she’d been through at the hands of a man who’d sworn to honor and protect her.
Kai wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, knowing where her mind had gone. “Come on,” he said, kissing her forehead. “You can show me your awesome bar skills and buy me a beer while Deputy Calvin pretends not to drool all over you.”
Grace couldn’t help but laugh.
Sweating like a bitch in heat, Max lumbered into the kitchen of Carter’s beach house and headed straight for the fridge. He pulled out a large bottle of water, which he proceeded to gulp. His run down the beach had been exactly what he’d needed after he’d awoken that morning with a hunger for a gram that almost crippled him. The night terrors had come back with a vengeance the previous night, too; a continual loop of images, which had Max fighting with his pillows and sobbing at two in the morning. It was the first time he’d suffered such cravings and nightmares in the three weeks he’d been home and it had done more than shake him.
Tate had been a lifesaver at the end of the phone, offering to drive out, listening and telling him everything he needed to hear. The run had been his idea and Max had thrown himself into it. His body ached deliciously, subduing the craving from a crashing wave to a firm ripple, though the tiredness from his brain’s incapability to shut down and stay quiet weakened him to his very bones.
Pulling the bottle of water from his mouth, Max screeched to a halt in the doorway of the sitting room at the same time Carter leaped up from the coach, adjusting his clothing and leaving a very embarrassed Kat in a flustered heap against the cushions. Max remained stock still having no clue what to say or do.
Jesus, wasn’t that just the last thing he needed to witness.
“Hey,” Carter said quickly, rubbing his hands over his short hair.
“Hey,” Max replied, looking between the two guilty faces in front of him.
“Good run?”
Inexplicable yet steady annoyance slinked up Max’s throat at Carter’s smile and obliviousness. As much as they tried not to shove it in Max’s face, happiness exuded from both him and Kat on a sickening scale. And why the fuck shouldn’t they be happy? They were getting married; they were in love and content while Max was continuously fighting a horrendous battle against the current of his habit.
He took a deep breath. “Sure.”
Without another word, he headed toward the stairs. Dammit, he needed a shower and a stern word with himself. Being pissed because Carter was getting close with his fiancée in his own house was absurd, but shit, there it was. His foundations had been seriously wobbled by his need for a line, and his lack of sleep, making his temper short. He’d made it to his room door when Carter caught up with him.
“I’m sorry, man,” he said, making Max turn.
Max rubbed the back of his neck and exhaled, hopelessly trying to rein in his irritation. “No problem,” he replied flippantly. “It’s your house, right?”
Carter’s brow furrowed. “Sure, but it’s not fair to— Are you okay?”
Max shrugged petulantly. “As good as every other day when you’d fucking kill for something you can’t have.” His tone was biting, his words referring to so much more than the coke he yearned for, but, to his credit, Carter didn’t react.
“You’ve spoken with Tate?”
Max bit his tongue, holding back the spiteful retort that bubbled up from the black envy swirling in his belly, and nodded.
“Can I do anything?”
“No.” The word was swift and, although Max despised himself for it, laced with bitterness.
The two men stood in silence for a beat before Carter took a step closer. “Look, is now a good time? I have something to ask you. Something important.”
The small quiver in Carter’s voice had Max on point immediately. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. No, shit’s good, I mean, okay, it’s just—you caught us celebrating a little.” The way Carter filtered drove Max to distraction. “Kat and I have decided to have the wedding later this year. Here. On the beach.”
Max licked his lips and leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, joy and anger battling through him, exacerbated by the crushing need to sleep for ten days straight and then call his dealer.
“And I want you to be my best man.”
Max shouldn’t have been surprised by the request. Hell, when he’d proposed to Lizzie, he’d asked Carter the exact same thing. His face had been a fucking picture. The memory gripped Max like a vise, squeezing and taunting, and hitching his breath, throwing him headfirst into the terrors that had taunted him all night. What the hell was going on with him? His mind whirred and his blood sang out for a taste of white fire.