Chapter 79

To be honest, I don’t want to talk about it. “Nothing,” I mumble. I sit on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands, and tell myself I have a headache. Only it’s not my heart that hurts this bad. I don’t want to believe that I just lost my oldest friend.

“Michael,” Dan starts.

I’m not up for it. “Not now,” I snap.

My fingers dig into my cheeks—I don’t need to look up to know that now I’ve hurt him, too. I should really go back to bed, start this day all over again, maybe it’ll go right this time. Or hell, redo last night while I’m at it, keep away from that rum and stay out of the living room and damn, never leave the side of the creek or the safety of my lover’s arms. I want him now, I want him holding me, I want his kisses and his hands to tell me everything’s going to be alright. Why can’t someone tell me everything’s going to be alright?