Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Ben made a scoffing noise. “What? Like Cancun or something?”
“Napa.” The pain in his leg made Maddox more honest. “There’s a bunch of cooking classes up there I’d love to take, and I don’t know enough about wine.”
“You don’t know enough about wine? I think we better worry more about your head. Wine is just...you drink it. Red for meat. White for fish. And you don’t chase it with liquor. Easy.”
“Some people like nuance. And cooking with wine might be fun.” The fuzziness in Maddox’s head lessened for a few moments, letting him follow the conversation.
“Fun.” Ben shook his head then winced. “Whatever floats your boat. Sure, you go to Napa for a week or whatever. But sign your re-up paperwork first.”
We’re never going to Napa together. Ben was too...well, nice wasn’t the right word but neither was self-centered or arrogant, but he was too something to come right out and refuse the idea. No, he’d just deflect it back, a soft little lob that he’d never guess stung like the slap of the wet branches against Maddox’s face.
“I might not.” This was the worst possible location for this conversation, but Maddox couldn’t keep it in any longer. And besides, talking was good distraction from how agonizing each step was, fresh spikes of pain up his splinted leg, no matter how carefully he tried to move.
“What? What else would you possibly do?” Ben’s tone was the same as he’d used last year when he’d sat for his Chief’s exam and Maddox had said he’d wait.
“I dunno. Open a bakery maybe.” Maddox braced himself for the inevitable bark of laughter from Ben.
“I’m not gonna say you’re a shit cook—we both know you’re awesome. But a bakery, man...that’s something to do when you’re retired. Not now. We’re in the prime of our careers. Don’t you remember how much you wanted this?”
“You wanted this for you,” Maddox corrected. “I wanted this to give my dad something to be proud of. Thought that if I made here, maybe he’d soften up...Navy sounded far more likely to do that than culinary college back when I was eighteen. But now I’m almost thirty and he’s never going to come around, and maybe it’s time for me to think about me.”
“Your family is fucked up,” Ben said firmly. “It’s not your fault that they’re so narrow-minded. But, Maddox, you’re damn good at what you do. One of the absolute best, and you know I’m not just saying that.”
Ben said Maddox’s name so infrequently that it always felt almost-but-not-quite like a caress when he used it. But right now it felt like a burden, like close to twelve years of friendship pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe. “People change,” he said at last. “You should know that better than anyone.”
“My SOB of an ex is hardly a life role model.” Ben pushed through a dense tangle of vines.
Actually, Maddox had meant Ben. Ben had changed the past few years. Become harder. More bitter. Less forgiving. But this wasn’t the place to point that out. “I mean look at your dad. Taking Spanish classes and learning salsa dancing and doing Doctors Without Borders—”
“Yeah, but he’s still an orthopedist. Not changing his career. And as for the rest...he’s doing it for Camilla. And I don’t recommend doing fuck all for love.”
You wouldn’t. He almost tripped over a mossy root, catching himself on the crutches at the last moment, wrenching his knee. The bark on the branches dug painfully into his palms. “Ow.”
“Careful.” Ben steadied him. “Need a rest?”
“We’ve barely gone a quarter of a klick.” Maddox was sweating like they’d run a 15k in August, but he wasn’t stopping. “I’m good.”
“Yeah, you are.” Ben’s voice was light, teasing, same as he’d done hundreds of times. And still Maddox was transported back to Ben’s voice joking and uttering praise in a whole different context. And yet again Maddox was stuck watching while Ben forged ahead, fearless as ever.
Six months ago
Maddox wasn’t supposed to be there. Wasn’t supposed to be home. He’d told Ben he was going to go hang out with their friend Pike, but then Pike had canceled on him, and he’d ended up asleep early. And now Ben was out in the living room—very much not alone and Maddox had to piss.
He wouldn’t say it was awkward when Ben brought someone home, but it sure wasn’t...comfortable either. Of course, he’d never admit it. It wasn’t Ben’s fault that Maddox’s emotions had been all messed up since Ben moved in. And Maddox had said it was fine for him to have people over—after all, he’d heard about Ben’s exploits for years. What difference would it make to have evidence?
A lot apparently. But that was all Maddox’s fault. When they first became friends, he’d been with Grayson and had been able to quash any pesky crush vibes toward Ben. Then Ben had been with Harry, and Maddox found Curt, and right when that relationship petered out, Ben had eloped with Trey-the-snake. But now, for what felt like the first time ever, they were both single and his treacherous heart wouldn’t shut up about truths Maddox had suppressed for a decade now. And he’d just keep right on tamping them down, thank you very much. He and Ben would be nothing other than toxic for each other, and Maddox wasn’t losing his best friend over some silly crush.