Page 21 of Forged By Sacrifice

Ava went and grabbed her purse from the back, and they headed for the door. “Don’t worry about me, ladies. I’ll be fine right here until Truck arrives.”

They both turned as if they’d forgotten me. I knew for a damn fact that Georgie hadn’t. She’d been avoiding my gaze all day, just like I’d been avoiding hers. Just like she’d been avoiding me since I’d dropped her at the house yesterday after our sail and our kiss.

Ava gave me a tired smile that made me regret my attitude. “Thanks, Mac.”

Then, she disappeared—so not the Ava we all knew and loved. The one who could barely sit still for more than two seconds. The one who gave as good as she got. The one who pranced around stages with an attitude the size of Texas.

I sat at the bar while the daytime bartender continued the prep work behind the counter. I shot off a text to Eli.

ME: Your fiancée is about ready to pass out. Maybe you should come get her?

CAPTAIN: Shit. I’m on my way.

ME: She left with Gorgeous to the drugstore, so you have time.

CAPTAIN: Gorgeous?

I looked up at my prior text, and I had typed Gorgeous instead of Georgie. Worst Freudian slip ever. Eli would never let me live it down.

ME: Georgie. She left with Georgie.

CAPTAIN: You’ve got it bad, my friend.

ME: Nah. But she is gorgeous.

CAPTAIN: You can’t fool me. I’ve known you too long. I’m just leaving Corpus Christi. I’ll be there in about thirty.

ME: Yes, sir. I’ll hold down the fort till you get here, sir.

CAPTAIN: **middle finger emoji**

The door of the bar opened, and I looked up to see my other best friend, Travis Dayton, a.k.a. Truck, walk through. He looked both better and older than the last time I’d seen him when I’d gone to Hawaii on leave. His normally pale hair looked almost white it was so bleached by the sun. It had always been one shade away from white anyway, but now that he’d let it grow out, it looked like he could be ninety instead of twenty-eight.

“Douche!” I got up and almost jogged to the door I was so excited to see him. I hugged him tightly.

“Dickwad,” he greeted back, squeezing me as hard as I was squeezing him.

“How’s Hawaii?” I asked as we let go and made our way back to the bar. The bartender already had a pint on the counter for him.

“Good, but I’m itching to get out of there.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Few more months.”

“You’re not going to reenlist?” I asked in surprise.

He laughed. “Shit, yeah, I’m going to reenlist, but I’m going to ask to get the hell out of Hawaii.”

“Beaches, ladies, and umbrella drinks not everything they’re cracked up to be?”

“Cost of living, crowds, and humidity that never stops is more like it.”

I nodded.

“So, you came to more humidity?”

He grinned. “To see you two asswipes, of course.”

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