Page 4 of Grant’s Blaze

“A little over a week,” Elijah answered as we started across the tarmac. “Nine days today.”

The information was both relieving and troubling. If he’d gone into months on the answer, I wouldn’t have been shocked. Still, I’d just been robbed of nine goddamned days of my life.

“I’m so tired,” I finally muttered. I still hadn’t explained how I’d gotten to a private resort’s beach near Avalon, Catalina’s main port. I was sure Elijah already had some theories and was spinning up more as we left the terminal.

“All right, man. You sit here, and I’ll get my car. I had to park at the end of the lot, it’s just about noon and it’s damn hot already. Gonna be a scorcher today.” He tried to steer me toward a concrete retaining wall that was low enough to sit on.

I stepped back, raising my hands. “I’m fine, Banks. I’m tired. My legs aren’t broken.”

He huffed in frustration because we both knew I was being the stubborn bastard now. It didn’t escape my notice that he slowed his pace considerably so my pussy ass could keep up. He hadn’t been joking about the heat, either. Even as we entered the big parking structure, the shade was compounded by the compressed heat of the abnormally sultry day. Thank God for the dependable onshore breeze in Long Beach, always blowing no matter the hour of day.

Still…me and my damn prideful ways.

The parked cars began to morph into different shapes and shades while we lumbered up the incline, heading in the direction of Elijah’s vehicle. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again when a nearby pickup looked like a melting ice cream cone. Christ, I needed water. I was dehydrated and overheating. Fast.

The first time I reached wildly for my buddy’s arm, I got nothing but air. “Liii—” I desperately clawed his bicep to hold myself up while calling his name to make him stop walking, but the syllables came out in unintelligible grunts. “Shuuuh.”

On the second try, I made contact. It was enough to grab his attention. He spun around, now seeming to get the full point.

“Holy shit, brother,” he muttered. “You’re in a world of trouble.”

But somewhere between hearing him and comprehending him, my balance spun out of control. My knees buckled, and I crumbled to the rough concrete of the parking garage.

After that, things went by in woozy blurs. I was conscious of him swearing more and then helping me get upright again. But exactly where I’d ended up was a mystery. It was still shrouded in cool darkness…like the garage but so much more comfortable…

Just when I thought of dozing off into a sweet little catnap, the asshole nudged me. Hard. “Twombley, you stubborn motherfucker. Do not space out on me now.”

“Space,” I repeated in a daze. “Ohhh. Is that where we are? My favorite planet is Saturn. What’s yours?”

“Shut up and sit up. You need to drink more, or these hallucinations will get worse.” When I didn’t respond, he gently touched my arm. “Hey. You still with me, man?”

I shook his hand off—or at least in my mind I did. Based on the quiet tone he still used when he spoke again, I hadn’t been as successful with my menacing display of male power as I thought.

After cracking one eye open ever so slightly, I grimaced before asking, “Why are you naked, Banks? I thought I told you no the last time you tried this shit.” I let both eyes fall closed again but could feel his body vibrate on the seat beside me with his chuckle. “Seriously, man, why don’t you have a shirt on?”

“Your knees were bleeding. I didn’t want that shit on my interior.”

I weakly wrapped my fingers around the water bottle he put in my hand and had designs on drinking the entire thing, but the dickhead plucked it from my grasp after only about a third of the liquid made it down my desperate gullet.

“The fuck, man? My throat is so fucking dry and raw.” Even to my own ears, I sounded like a whiny brat. Worse, I was too weak and pathetic to do anything more than that.

I forced my eyes open wide enough to try to buckle my seat belt. The smirking dude behind the wheel watched me struggle through several attempts before taking over and easily snapping the tab into the lock. “I’m pretty sure you’re dehydrated. If you down too much, too fast, you will end up throwing it all up and doing more harm than good. So, for now, we pace.”

“Fine. Whatever. Can you just be quiet now?” I decided to lead by example, hoping he’d follow suit. Besides, it helped me focus on other things—like breathing without fear.

I counted slowly to ten on each inhalation. Held for ten. Exhaled to the same count. The ultimate plan was to keep going until I fell asleep or was interrupted. I was strongly hoping for, but not counting on, the former. It had been a long time since I had to employ any sort of meditation exercise to deal with anxiety. But tried-and-true relaxation techniques, like old friends, were familiar no matter how much time passed between visits. And right now, I needed all the friends I could count on.

But nearly immediately, bad feelings from the past nine days came rushing in.

Really bad ones.

Loneliness and despair ran out in front of the pack. I was desperate to cope with them better by asking about Rio but had no right to do so in this crazy condition. That was what my twisted brain kept telling me, anyway. Besides, talking about her would make me miss her more. And missing her would make me ache to be near her. But being this close to her, right in the same city and not getting to hold her in my arms…damn it, not getting to fuck her…

I groaned inwardly. I needed to stop this self-torture right the hell now. I was only making things worse. Already, it was nearly impossible to resist calling her. But doing that would just be unfair, ultimately to us both, and I knew it with crushing clarity.

But fucking her would feel so good right now…

Okay, forget the inner flogging. I went straight for thumping my head against the passenger-side window. Somehow, in some way, I had to get a goddamned grip on this stuff.