An Ounce of Hope(75)

Aunt Fern, Carla, and Adele looked over from their loungers as she approached, smiling gamely.

"You're up!" Adele said with a grin.

"Hey! Hey! Dancing girl's here!" Buck called from the water, where he stood with Caleb, who smiled widely at her. Grace waved in humiliation. "Let's start this party!" Buck added.




 

 

Carla glanced at her watch. It was past noon. "I knew all that dancing would tire you out."

"Yeah," Grace answered, vaguely remembering that she and Carla had become super best friends over the course of the night, conveying each other's awesomeness as more and more drinks were consumed. Apparently, she wasn't quite the bitch Grace had originally considered her to be. "I think the alcohol helped, too."

All three women laughed before Adele offered a lounger, which Grace took gratefully.

"We've all eaten. Can I fix you something, honey?" Aunt Fern asked.

Grace's stomach rolled at the mere thought. "No. Thank you." She held up her bottle of water. "I'm good."

Lying down helped. Grace sat back and closed her eyes behind her shades, enjoying the warmth and the sounds of splashing water and laughter. Despite her heinous hangover, she allowed the calm and contentment that encircled her to soak in. It was as close to peace as Grace had felt in a long time, surrounded by good people- friends-who accepted her without question.

A low, appreciative whistle conjured Grace's eyes open. "Goddamn, girl, I'd give my high teeth for a piece of that ass." Adele looked over at her. "Please, tell me you're hitting the shit out of that."

Grace followed Adele's admiring gaze to see Max and his uncle running up the shore toward them. Max was shirtless and had clearly worked up a sweat. It glistened and enhanced the grooves of his chest and stomach. His whole body tensed and flexed as he moved, muscles working hard, his cheeks blowing in and out, as he concentrated on each stride. He sure was a vision.

A deep warmth settled in Grace's stomach and between her legs. Dammit, who was she kidding? Adele was right; she should be hitting the shit out of that. She managed to school her features just as he slowed to a walk and approached her, sly smile in place, looking far too delicious with his chest heaving and black hair wet and clinging to his forehead. He ran a hand through it, making it stand in all different directions, and grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler.

"Well, good afternoon, Starshine," he said before he gulped at his drink. He swallowed and held the bottle to his cheek. "How's the head?"

She grimaced. "Fuzzy."

He chuckled and raised his eyebrows. "I'm sure it is. A gallon of cocktails will do that." He glanced over at Carla pointedly before fixing Grace with an intense stare. "What exactly do you remember from last night?"

She cleared her throat and pulled at the bottom of her top. "Bits and bobs . . . puking, dancing, being an idiot." She was hopelessly aware of there being three sets of curious eyes and ears watching and listening to their conversation. She sat up as if to lift herself from the lounger and removed her shades. "Can we talk?" 

Max's face lost some of its playfulness. "Sure. I need a shower anyway." He looked over at his aunt. "Won't be long." He turned and made his way back to the house, Grace following close on his heels. They were halfway up the stairs to their room when he spoke again. "You all right apart from the hangover?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I just wanted to apologize."

Max stopped short by their bedroom door. "What for?"

Grace moved past him, entering the room with a loud sigh. She felt him follow and heard the door shut. "I'm sorry I did what I did." She reached the bed and turned to him, fisting her hands together, trying to find the right words. "It was silly and completely inappropriate."

Max stared at her for a beat and lifted his shoulders. "No problem."

"And I'm sorry for getting so drunk. It wasn't fair to you to have to deal with me being a drunken mess, especially with what you're already dealing with. It was inconsiderate, and I'm sorry."

That was the foremost concern that had been tearing Grace up as she'd showered. She understood all too well the struggle Max faced every day with his addiction and the last thing he needed was her shoving right into his face the fact that he couldn't have a drink.

For a brief moment, he looked like he was going to argue, but he seemed to think better of it. He rubbed a hand across his chin and nodded. "I appreciate that, but it's okay."

"No, it's not. I wasn't a good friend to you last night. You deserve better and I promise I won't do it again." He opened his mouth to speak, but she continued. "I know you'll say I'm wrong but you know I'm right. Please, just let me grovel?"