Page 80 of Crashing Waves

I dug a shaking hand into my breast pocket and fumbled, pulling them out. My fingers felt so big, those bands of gold felt so small, and they almost slipped from my grasp. Ricky grabbed them quickly before they could fall, then patted a hand against my shoulder in a gesture I was sure he thought was reassuring before turning back to Lucy so they could finish exchanging their vows.

All the while, I struggled to keep my mind from disappearing down a dusty road in Afghanistan.

And Sid’s hand remained on my shoulder.

***

“Hey, can I, uh …” I held up my glass to the bartender. “Can I get another one of these?”

The man in the crisp white shirt and black vest eyed me warily, but took the glass without question. He filled it with ice, then whiskey, and slid it back over.

“Thanks,” I barely murmured with the brim already on its way to my lips.

Before it could reach its destination, the glass was swiftly taken from my hand, and when I turned to see who the thief was, I was met with Sid’s disapproving glare.

Fuck.

“How many of these have you had?” he asked, holding the glass up and swirling its contents in my face.

“Not enough,” I quipped, moving to take it back, but he pulled it from my reach. “Don’t be an asshole, Sidney.”

“You’re about to make yourself look like one if you don’t stop this shit.”

I scowled. “The fuck are you talking about?”

He scoffed. “Your speech, moron.”

“Whatspeech?”

“You’re the best man, remember? Or are you so fuckin’ drunk that you forgot?”

My frown deepened, and anger began to clear a path through my veins. “Right. And that’sexactlywhy I need that drink, so hand it over.”

Sid had done pretty good for himself. The Army had set him up with a nice prosthetic. State-of-the-art robotics. With all his physical therapy, he was moving almost as fluidly as he had when he possessed two actual legs. All of that to say, he dodged my attempts to swipe the glass pretty swiftly for a guy missing a limb, and with every failed attempt, my rage rose.

“Give it a rest, Serg,” he warned under his breath.

“Oh, yeah? And who the fuck areyouto givemeorders?”

He cocked a brow, a challenge flashing in his eyes. “Oh, you’re gonna play that game with me right now, huh? You’re gonna act all high and mighty? Well, how ‘bout this,Sergeant?Mysuperior officer wouldn’t be acting like a fuckin’ drunk asshole at his little sister’s wedding.Mysuperior officer wouldn’t be making a fool of himself in front of all these fuckin’ people.”

“I don’t give afuckabout all these people.”

Sid laughed, his smile mocking. “Oh, don’t fuck with me, Max. Yes, you do. You give such a huge fuck about what they all think about you right now, and that’s exactly why you think you need this, but, dude, youdon’t.” The grin dropped from his face as agonizing sincerity welled in his eyes. “You don’tneedthis.”

He was begging me without saying it. He was pleading for me to reach out and ask him for some kind of help, but what the fuck did he expect from me? Did he want me to be more like him? Resilient? Optimistic?Hopeful? How could I suddenly be something I never knew how to be?

So, when he placed the glass on the bar and turned to leave, I didn’t waste a second in picking it up again and pouring its entire contents down my throat before he could glance over his shoulder. I didn’t bother to witness the disapproving glare of the bartender as I laid the glass back down to silently ask for another drink. What the fuck did he care anyway? He was getting all of my cash in tips.

Then, with my drink refreshed, I stumbled sloppily to the table I’d been assigned to, only to find my champagne flute filled nearly to the brim.

It’s now or never, I thought, making a quick decision to leave the whiskey at the table as I approached the DJ booth to ask for a mic.

The music volume was lowered. The guests were confused momentarily before turning to look at me. Somehow, among all of those sets of eyes, I found those of my father, peering out from the throng on the dance floor.

Imagine that. My father, the tyrant who couldn’t forgive a dog’s accident in the living room …dancing.

I cleared my throat as I brought the mic to my mouth, and without thinking, I began to speak. “Hey, uh …” I addressed the crowd with a sweeping gesture of the champagne glass. “Some of you probably don’t know who I am, and some of you do, but anyway, my name is Max. I’m Ricky’s best friend … or his best man, but I guess also his best friend maybe. Not sure that I am still, but … well, he chose me to be his best man, so”—a chuckle barked from my rough throat—"I guess maybe I am, but only maybe. Anyway!” I lowered my gaze to the floor and shuffled my weight from one foot to another. “Uh … Lucy—Ricky’s beautiful bride—is also my little sister. So, I guess you could say the only reason they’re even together, the only reason we’re all here right now is, well …me.”

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