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Tired of leaving messages, I gave up.
Was he ghosting me, buried in set work, or worse, sleeping with someone else?
The last thought was so ludicrous that I shook my head to shake it off.
Max was a man of honor; he would never.
Or would he?
Still, why was Max so freakin’ unpredictable?
Why did he leave me so jittery, so damn insecure?
This was not the woman I wanted to be.
My mind drifted back to Deacon; if I liked one thing about my ex, it was that he’d always taken my calls from the start, no matter what.
Even with all the messy drama and low-key resentment I still harbored, I trusted him without a doubt.
I kept thinking back to our early days in Nashville, back when lying in his arms just felt easy and peaceful, long before our world blew up.
Choked with feeling, I took a ragged breath in, burying my bleak memories deep down where they belonged.
I left my tent, wandered back outside, and went towards the central command marquee, where I handed the device back to Baz.
‘How’s the fam?’ Baz asked, plugging the phone back into its charger on the camp table.
‘They’re all well; Deacon is taking Raff paragliding.’
‘Lucky kid,’ Yael murmured, her eyes down at her cards, frowning at her next hand.
‘He’s got a kickass dad,’ I said.
‘Ace,’ Baz grinned at me before he and Yael got back into their competitive Gin Rummy.
With a wave, I headed back to my tent and got ready to sleep.
But once I was in my sleeping bag, I tossed and turned all night, wrestling with vivid dreams of Raff, Deacon, and even Max, their faces melding together in a disorienting montage.
Chapter 7
DEACON
Ilay on the couch next to Raff.
He played a video game on his iPad, and I tried my best to read my Miles Davis biography.
It wasn’t going well.
I kept getting distracted.
My phone rang, and I checked the ID.
With a wry smile, I got up and strolled to the outdoor terrace to answer.
‘Brother, how’s it hanging in Mijas?’
Jude’s timbre rumbled through the line.