He smiled. It was like the sun peeking out after a storm. “I love your ass.”
“You’re such a guy.”
“That I am,” he agreed. Then he said as I buckled up, “It’s probably a good idea to meet them. But not just me—us, Logan.”
“Max, I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“I have work to do.”
His mouth pressed into tight line. He looked down the street, a tic working his jaw. Cold, green eyes came back to me. “That’s why you want me gone.He’sgoing to be there tonight.”
I sighed. About to tell him I wanted this painting over with fast, which was why I worked so many hours on it, I realized Max needed me more after this emotional day…and I wanted to be with him.
“Okay, I’ll cancel.”
Without a word, he shut the door, and as he rounded the Jeep, I texted Titus.
Chapter Sixteen
Ila
My eyes snapped open, a sense of dread stifling me. Even though the moonlight seeped into the darkened room, it took a moment for my sight to adjust then I saw the dark, hunched silhouette seated at the edge of the bed. “Max?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “It’s okay, go back to sleep.”
At his raspy tone, prickles of unease skated over my skin. Usually, if he wasn’t in bed when I got up, I’d find him downstairs watching TV. The last time, he’d rushed off to the accident site.
I crawled to him, wrapped my arms around his chest, and pressed my cheek against his warm back. “What is it?”
“Same thing.” The words sounded strangled.
“The accident?”
A deep shudder shook him. He dropped his head back into his hands. “The same things over and over again, I see the rain, hear sobbing, then there’s glass shattering and metal crunching…after, it’s all a blank.”
I guess seeing his mother’s grave had probably amplified his nightmares. And with his amnesia, it didn’t give him the closure he needed.
He rubbed his scarred eyebrow.
“Does it hurt?”
“It’s okay, I’m used to it.” He reached for his tote on the floor and pulled out a bottle.
I’d seen one in the kitchen trash a while back. They were very strong pain pills—schedule drugs. My stomach lurched in anxiety. “Max, do you see a therapist?”
“I said I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” I grasped his arm. It felt like a steel cable about to snap beneath my fingers. “You barely sleep, and not remembering is destroying you. Have you seen a doctor?”
He shoved to his feet so fast, I fell back on the bed. “I don’t need a damn caretaker, Logan.Yes, I have a goddamn shrink!”
I sat there, shocked to my core at his cold, cutting anger. Then my own hurt and frustration surged. I shoved off the bed and stepped up to him where he stood glowering out the window. “Don’t you push me aside, Max.Youwanted a relationship with me. This is me. I won’t turn away or let you do this to yourself when you’re hurting inside. You think shutting me out and taking all those pills will make it any better?”
“They’re just goddamn headache pills—I’m fine!” He spun around, pulled on his discarded clothes.
“Fine?” I glared at him. “Then why are you seeing a therapist?”
