Shifting his glare from Grady, Mac took up his rocking again. The topic change was better, but along the lines of jumping from one frying pan into another. “Who says I can’t fix it?”
Jason turned and gave him aget reallook.
“I’m doing my best.” Surly glance toward Grady.
“Looks like you’re doing your best to self-destruct,” Grady parried.
“Gotta hit rock bottom, right? Isn’t that what they all say?”
“Haven’t you done that?” Jason asked. His disapproving glance encompassed the cabin and Mac.
Mac sought the visual coolness of the lake before responding. “There isn’t a bottom deep enough, Jason.”
“No one blames you except yourself. Diving for the bottom isn’t what anyone wants for you.”
“Gotta see what’s down there before I can come back up.”
“You might not.”
Mac’s dark eyes sliced over to Jason, the depth of his own tortured soul reflected in his friend’s eyes for the briefest of moments before he shut it down. “If I don’t come back, I don’t deserve to.”
Tears formed in Jason’s eyes as he turned away.
Mac forced a smile. “Damn, don’t go getting all misty-eyed over me.”
“Fuck you, asshole,” Jason said with emotion. “You’re so fucking selfish.”
Mac sighed. “Done talking about it. Let me go through my paces.”
“Screwing and drinking your way through life is your idea of paces?” Grady prodded.
“Teenaged boy’s wet dream of a life.”
“You need help, Mac,” Jason insisted.
“This isn’t you,” Grady pressed.
Mac winced. “Don’t need any more poking and prodding; it puts me more on edge. I did my time with that.”
Jason pointed toward woods. “Well, leave her out of yourpaces.”
Mac swung his legs off the hammock as he sat up. “Why’ve you got such a hard-on for her? One night, Jason, you had with her.”
“Just promise me.”
Mac raised his hand. “Like I said, I’m not interested in your leavings.” But he couldn’t help but wonder what it was about Cassidy. How was it she’d managed to command Jason’s devotion after one night together? “And you are leaving, right? You didn’t leave your balls back there with her, did you?”
“My balls are safe,” Jason assured him.
Mac raised an expectant brow, but Jason wasn’t any more forthcoming.
A whistle broke the tension surrounding them. They turned their attention toward the lake; the dock. They watched as Cassidy, wearing jeans and a red sweater, stood looking back up the hill toward her house. She whistled again, then impatiently called, “Fred!” She smacked her thigh.
The dog sauntered down the incline toward the dock.
She was too far away for them to hear her words, but they were accompanied by an accusatory look in the direction of Mac’s cabin. Even from the distance, her expression made it clear her irritation was with a person, not the dog.
Fred joined her on the dock. She talked to him, and he listened to her, but he also kept looking over his shoulder at the cabin. Her words weren’t reaching the three men, but her tone sharpened whenever his attention strayed. She kept her one-sided conversation up as she untied the lines, then she snapped her fingers toward the boat.