“Annulment,” she sneered, slamming the cabinet door after chucking the bag.
“When is the annulment final?”
“Two weeks.”
“Send the runner painting. Let them see your range. If they hate it, then they don’t deserve you and I’ll fly with you to find other galleries. Then no pressure the next two weeks. Build your website, your brand. Nurture your soul. Hang out with your friends. Get through this, however it works out.”
17
Cohabitating
“Once the annulment goes through, are we going to have to keep up this awkward, choose FreyaorZane? I like hanging out with you both and don’t like choosing one over the other.” Asher griped as he drove at a snail’s pace over the loose chip-sealed road, the scent of tar pervading the cab, glancing at Zane with an exaggerated glower.
Rubbing his hand over the scruff of his jaw, Zane sighed, “Hey, this is tough enough. I like hanging out with her too. More than I should. Look what happened last time we were together? Come on, your parents’ laundry room in the middle of a party?”
“I’m impressed. I think that’s the one room in the house I haven’t had a quickie in.” Slowing from ten to two miles an hour, Asher pulled off down an overgrown driveway and parked in front of a metal gate. He hopped out and pushed the thing open, dove back in to roll through, then hopped out again to shut it behind them.
Grass and opportunistic shrubs brushed along the bottom of the truck’s chassis as they bumped along the ancient logging road. “Exactly. When she’s around, I make stupid-ass decisions. Like getting married.”
“And when the marriage is over?”
“If something happens after, at least it won’t ruin our chances at dissolving the marriage without a big-ass paper trail that puts a stamp on my forehead as a guy that can’t get his shit together.”
“What about her?”
Zane shrugged. Shit. Freya didn’t deserve all this. A few memories leaked in every so often. Last night, in a painful effort to get some damn sleep, trying not to think about today, he’d played some mind games and tapped his memory until he could come up with some flashes from that night.
Ithadbeen his idea. She’d downed the biggest cheeseburger on the menu. He’d consumed about a gallon of ice water. A smiling couple had danced in with a group of friends, declaring they were ordering the lava cake for their reception, the chapel next door having been freaking awesome.
He’d paid for dinner and they’d strolled outside together. A flashy sign declared no waiting required for your dream wedding. She’d wrapped her arms around him and kissed his brains out until the earth spun, its axis irreversibly offset.
Let’s get married,He’d slurred.
Now?She’d asked.
Hell yeah. Sober me would run like hell, so drunk me is taking a stand.
She’d laughed from deep under her diaphragm,Sober me has been engaged three times. I think slashed me should take over.
“Zane?” Asher interrupted his blinding flashback.
“Yeah. Sorry.” The engine revved with enthusiasm; the tires didn’t argue as they passed through a muddy dip in the road. “I’ll be doing her a damn favor. She made it clear, she doesn’t have the capacity for guys like me.”
They pulled to a stop. A winding grove hinted at a creek ahead. Asher shook his head but didn’t say anything. Zane unlocked his feet from bracing the tin can and grabbed Jack as he hopped out of the truck. He shifted a backpack over his shoulder, bottles clanking inside.
Without a word between them, they crossed over a log spanning the crystal-clear stream, then up the overgrown switchbacks for a few hours. They’d traded off the heavy load now and again; Jack should have come with some sort of shoulder strap or something. He weighed a fricking ton and was awkward to carry.
But had been a hell of a lot heavier and scary as fuck when Zane had packed him through the firefight to the LZ, Jack’s head bobbing as he went in and out of consciousness, his legs lifeless.
They reached a flat with a scattering of boulders, then the best damn view he’d ever seen as he stepped to the edge, looking miles across the rugged Cascades. Asher set Jack on a boulder at their side while Zane pulled out a trio of beers. He popped off the caps. They stood and raised their glasses.
After a long, hollow breath, Asher said, “To a hell of a friend.”
Zane nodded, “The best.” Nothing more to say, Zane took a swig while Asher did the same, then set his beer at his feet. He levered the cap off the urn and held it out. “I’m pretty sure this is illegal.”
Asher shrugged, “Yeah, you’re probably right. I don’t think Jack would mind.”
Leaning as far out as he could, Zane tipped the urn over and let the wind pick up the ashes, sending fine particles across the cliffside, carried away with the breeze. Asher popped open the beer and poured Jack’s over the ledge for him. Pulling back his arm, Zane slung the metal urn into the valley.
