“But…”
“He’s on a plane. Yeah, but as of right now, I have control of my meds. He gave them back to me this morning, actually.”
He looked as though he would burst with questions.
“Ask whatever you want, vato. I refuse to have secrets from you. There’s stuff I’ve not told you yet, but not for any reason other than I’ve been having so much fun getting reacquainted with your stellar ass.”
“And my dick.”
“Yes. And your dick. Although, my ass is still fucking sore.”
He preened as if I’d praised him, which he still had issues with, but we’d get there. I pulled him toward me, needing a taste of his mouth. Our lips met. Slow, sensual, loving with a banked fire that wouldn’t take much to ignite.
When we parted, I rested my forehead against his and asked, “So… the drinking?”
“According to the person I’ve been seeing, I’m edging my way out of regular use and into risky use, because the mornings I wake up thinking about a drink are getting more frequent.”
“When’s the last time?
“I drank? The last bender I went on was nearly a year ago. I was at the house working on some projects. I remember pouring a drink. I drank so much I passed out. When I woke up, I got cleaned up, poured out all the liquor in the house, and called the therapist.”
I nodded. “I haven’t taken more than the prescribed dose in a year. The last time I drank while taking my meds was a little longer.”
“And the last time someone took your meds from you?”
Oh shit.
“Vegas. After we bumped into you and Marcos in the lobby, Angel took them from me. Which is why I didn’t have my meds the next morning.”
“And Priest took them here?”
I nodded. “Yeah. It was a bit of a shock to the system.”
“Agreed.”
“A good shock in the long run.”
His face stretched as his mouth moved into a slow, sexy smile, but then it fell, and his brow furrowed. “There are some things I’d like to know, but I don’t want…”
“I told you, ask whatever you want. We can’t live our lives on tenterhooks. We’ve gotta be respectful and mindful, but that doesn’t mean we can avoid the tough shit.”
“Vegas. Why? Why did you push me away?”
“In San Diego, I pushed you away because I was hurt and confused. The divorce papers eviscerated me. I sat at that fucking table, in the chair you sat in to work for hours. I sat there so long my ass went numb, and I cried myself dehydrated.”
His lips rolled into his mouth almost as if he wanted to ask another question, but he didn’t say anything.
“In the hospital, there were things said to me that you didn’t know about.”
A murderous look came over his face, and I knew what he was thinking about. The same cunt I thought about.
His jaw popped a couple of times as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. When he spoke, his voice was low and even, almost clipped with hostility.
“Okay, I gotta say this… I can’t be, or I guess I should say, you can’t hold me accountable for what other people say or do. Especially if I don’t know about it.”
I nodded.
“You’re right. I was in the wrong about how I reacted to Mara, but what happened at the hospital was fear. Or maybe self-preservation, or I don’t know… saving us both from a fate worse than death.”
