"Back here!" I reply. "Open me one, would you, and I'll be right there." I zip up my bag, glance around the room to make sure I haven't forgotten anything, and head into the living area to meet him.
He greets me with an ice cold beer, and even though I'm much more of a wine girl, when I take a swallow I can't deny that it feels good on my throat. I sit down on the couch and he sits next to me, and I realize that I'm grinning.
"Something funny?"
"Not a thing," I admit. "I just haven't seen you in ages." I hugged him earlier, but I do it again now. "I wish Dallas was here," I say without thinking. "The three of us together would--"
I cut myself off, then shrug. It's been a long time since the three of us have hung out like we used to.
"Did you talk to him at all while he was here? And do me a favor and answer that without chewing my head off."
I raise my brows. "Why would I chew your head off?"
"Because there's a lot of that going around." He stands up to get another beer from the fridge where he stashed the six-pack.
"You're going to have to give me a little more to go on."
"Why don't you tell me what's going on with you and our boy, Dallas?"
I cross my arms over my chest, because that is a hell of a broad topic--and not one I'm keen on getting into with a helicopter on its way.
"It's just that I went over to his bungalow last night, mentioned you, and the fucker practically bit my head off. You two have an argument?"
"I wouldn't exactly call it that. But I'm pretty sure he left this morning because of me. Not because of a business thing."
Liam looks straight at me. "What's going on, Janie?"
"Not a story that's mine to tell," I assure him. "Let's just say that I'd hoped we could maybe stop avoiding each other. But I think we're back to square one. Or maybe square negative one hundred and one." I shrug. "I texted him earlier today to check on him. No reply."
"Gotcha." He leans forward so that his elbows are on his knees and his beer is held tight in his outstretched hands. His head is down, and he looks like a guy who is thinking deep thoughts, or wrestling with a sticky problem.
When he looks up at me, I can see that it's the latter. "What?" I ask.
"So what are you going to do?"
"Do?"
"You guys are trying to work it out. Trying to repair a friendship or a family quarrel or whatever the hell you want to call it. And he just up and runs away. What are you going to do?"
"I--I don't know."
"Then you're a lame-ass friend, baby girl."
I leap to my feet. "Dammit, Liam. It's not just--"
"I don't fucking care about your excuses, do I?" He stands, too, completely dwarfing me. "Because it's not about excuses. You have one question to ask yourself, and that's 'Do I want that boy in my life?' "
He grimaces in that cocky way he has. "Right now, he's acting like such a prick that I wouldn't be surprised if the answer is no. But if it's yes--" He takes a breath, and I watch as he visibly calms. "If it's a yes, you fight for him." He pulls off his ball cap so he can rub his hand over his buzz-cut head.
"I lost a lot of friends in Afghanistan, you know. Really lost 'em and can't get 'em back no matter how much I might want to. Don't lose one of the people who matters most in your life, Janie. Not if you can help it."
Tears sting my eyes as he looks straight at me. "And if that means you fight, then fuck it, that's what you do. If you think he's worth it, then you have to go to the mat."
You have to go to the mat.
For about the millionth time since I left the island last night, Liam's words fill my head. I'd taken them to heart and sent Dallas a text message before I'd climbed into the 'copter.
Now, I read over what I sent for the umpteenth time, trying to decide if I could have worded it differently. Somehow written it in a way that actually got through his thick skull. But honestly, it says what I wanted it to. He's just ignoring it.