“Go!”
He was too busy looking at me to see the guy coming. I screamed, “Cade!” and he barely turned fast enough to avoid getting hit. I dragged myself up and ran for Trestle. My hands shook as I reached for the door handle. The metal door felt even heavier than normal, and it took all my strength to pry it open.
“BENNY!”
My throat felt like I’d swallowed burning coals, but I yelled Benny’s name again. The drunken bar-goers looked at me like I was crazy. Some didn’t even register my scream. But I saw Benny shouldering his way through the crowd.
“Benny, hurry!”
I ran for the door as soon as he was close to me.
“What is it, Max?”
I shoved open the door as hard as I could and breathed, “Fight.”
The cold wind was like glass shards against my skin, but I didn’t care. “Cade!”
My attacker was flat on his back, and Cade was on top of him. Both of them were bloodied, but Cade was okay. Really okay if the punch he threw was any indication. Benny charged forward and grabbed Cade by his clothing. He jerked him to his feet, and I cried, “The other one, Benny!”
He looked at Cade for a few moments, and Golden Boy stared back, his jaw set in a grim line. Finally, Benny released him to address the guy still on the ground.
Cade breathed out harshly, and then faltered on his feet. I rushed toward him and took him by the arm. He smiled, and I winced at the blood in his teeth. His eyes searched my face, and when he didn’t find any injuries, he rested his hand against my cheek. It might have been a side effect of being choked, but it was suddenly harder to breathe.
“Pretty impressive, Golden Boy.”
He coughed, and then groaned. I moved closer and wrapped an arm around his waist. His hard body pressed into mine, and the heat of him seeped into my skin. His brown eyes met mine, and there were volumes written in his expression. Those volumes contained words that terrified me, but I couldn’t look away for the life of me.
“I’m sorry,” he said. His eyes closed, and he teetered toward me. His forehead pressed into my temple in a gesture that felt sweet and familiar. He swallowed, and I could feel every imperceptible change in his body.
I held tighter to him and asked, “What could you possibly be sorry for?”
“I’m getting blood on you.”
I laughed. “Only you would apologize for something like that, Golden Boy.”
His eyes were open again, and they locked on mine. He wasn’t laughing. He shook his head. “I meant I was sorry for kissing you.”
With his forehead pressed against mine, the sight of him filled up my vision. There was nothing else in that moment, but him. And he . . . he reminded me of music. Of the way singing made me feel. Like I was falling and flying, freedom and fear.
Without thinking it through, I said, “Don’t be. I’m not.”
11
Cade
Max led me back inside the bar, and it took all of five seconds before Milo was at my side whistling. “Damn, hermano, I think you took that promise to get pissed a little too seriously.”
I rolled my eyes and said to Max, “This is my friend Milo. Milo, this is Mackenzie.”
That was for calling me Golden Boy.
Her head swung around to face me and she asked, “Are you looking to get in another fight tonight?” Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkling.
“No, I just like seeing you angry.” She pressed her lips together and glared, but a smile was poking through within a few seconds. God, when she looked at me like that I forgot completely about the splitting pain in my head.
When I turned back to Milo, he was looking between Max and me, grinning. “You bastard, did you knock out all four commitments in one go?”
I was still leaning on Max, a little because I needed to and a lot because I wanted to. Her face angled up to mine and she asked, “What is he talking about?”
“Don’t worry about it. He’s drunk.”
I, on the other hand, had sobered up completely. I tried not to look disappointed as I removed my arm from around her shoulder.
“Thanks, Max. I’m good now.”
All I wanted to do was get home and take a long, cold shower, followed by a really hot one to ease the stiffness in my back and arms.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked. Her hands came up to rest on her hips . . . hips that I’d held in my hands before this all went down.
“I’m just going to head home and get cleaned up.”
Milo said, “Uh, Cade, you live at least twenty minutes away and your face is leaking. I think we should get you cleaned up here.”
Max’s fingers found my chin, and she drew my face down toward hers. “I’m going to get a first aid kit. Don’t you dare leave.”
I was too tired to argue, so Max disappeared, and Milo led me toward the bathroom at the back of the bar.
“Damn, Cade. Who knew you liked the feisty ones?”
I wasn’t sure if I liked “feisty ones,” but I liked her. A lot.
There was an obnoxiously long line for the bathroom, and everyone was either too drunk or too rude to care that I was bleeding. I leaned against the back wall, tilted my head back against the brick, and closed my eyes. In a shocking turn of events, Milo kept his mouth shut until Max returned.
She said, “Bad news. Our first aid kit is pretty much empty.”
I opened my eyes and focused on her. Shoving off the wall, I swayed slightly. Max caught one arm while Milo caught the other.