Page 93 of The Bridges I've Burned

I decided to text Hendrix later about the charity concert when he was more awake and less snippy. I hesitated as I pulled up the chat history I had with my brother. We hadn’t texted each other since that day I’d come back on the ferry, and I wondered if we had the kind of relationship that included this type of thing anymore.

I used to ask him for advice all the time, but that was when I was a kid and I needed to know which action hero was better—Wolverine or Spider-Man.

Wolverine, obviously.

A part of me really wanted to just stay here and wait for Elena to emerge from her bedroom so we could continue whatever the hell we’d started in that dressing room.

’Cause, fucking hell, that had been hot.

But I also knew I needed to sort a few things out of my head before I went near her because if I managed to catch her alone again? All bets were off, and I owed it to her to figure out what I wanted first.

I sent a quick text to my brother before I could second-guess myself.

me

You busy this morning?

Macon also texted back almost immediately. Everyone was glued to their phones today.

Macon

Nope. Covering for one of the deputies in the PM, so I’m off this morning. What’s up?

me

Want to meet for coffee?

Macon

Sure. Give me thirty?

me

Sounds good.

It was just enough time to shower and change.

By the time I was walking back down the hallway, I could hear Elena stirring in her room. My stomach fluttered with the memory of her body wrapped around mine, and the urge to stop at her door was strong.

But instead, I kept walking, and when I got into my rental car, I sent her a text, letting her know I was meeting Macon and that I’d be back later. By the time I got to the coffee shop, I had a thumbs-up emoji from her and a request for a bear claw.

I couldn’t help the dumb grin that spread across my face.

Macon’s truck was already in the parking lot, so I headed inside to find him. The door chimed as I opened it, and I scanned the tables, eventually finding him at the back of the line at the counter. The place was fairly busy, but not so bad that I feared we wouldn’t find a place to sit.

“Morning,” I said as I took a place next to him.

“Morning,” he parroted. “How was yesterday? I heard you didn’t get in until late.”

I raised my brow, and he chuckled.

“First thing you’ve got to know about Marin and Elena is, they talk. All day, every day. About everything and anything.”

“And what Elena tells Marin, she tells you?”

He shrugged. “Some of it. But, no, she doesn’t tell me all of Elena’s secrets.”

“And I’m assuming she told you?—”

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