CJ shook his head. “I wasn’t in your life when you went to rehab. You don’t need to make amends to me.”

“Not for that period of time, maybe. But certainly for before. For the way I left.”

Again CJ shook his head. “We were too young anyway.”

“Don’t let me off the hook.”

“All right,” CJ said with a nod. “I won’t. Thank you for the apology. It’s accepted.” He gave a very small smile. “You’re different. A good different.”

“Maybe that’s because for the first time in my life, I feel like I’m not fighting myself over whether it’s okay to slow down, take a deep breath, and be happy. And . . . I am.”

“You sound surprised,” CJ said.

“Yeah, cuz have you met me?”

CJ gave a very small but warm, easy smile. “I was shot and you’re happy. You’re a sick man.”

“But you love it.”

CJ’s smile faded, and Gavin once again tried to get up, but in spite of being injured, CJ was strong as hell. “I do love it,” he said, holding on to Gavin. “What I don’t love is your urge to take off whenever the going gets too good. Think you can knock that the fuck off?”

“I’m working on it.”

“I hope that’s true.”

“Maybe I should prove it to you,” Gavin said.

“Maybe you should.”

And for the rest of the night, they didn’t say another word.

Chapter 23

“I’ve got you this time.”

The next morning, Gavin got out of bed way before he wanted to. CJ was still sleeping, so he left him a note telling him that he had a meeting and reminding him to take his antibiotic.

There were several places to eat in Wildstone that were good, but nothing better than Caro’s Café. Gavin found Axel in a corner booth, back to the wall, slugging back a hot, black coffee like it was his job. The guy was thirtyish, had wavy dark hair past his shoulders, with a matching beard, and was covered in tats. Good-looking enough to be an actor portraying a rock star, he had both men and women after him, which he definitely made the most of. He was an old friend of Gavin’s and they’d reconnected last week when they’d been at the same NA meeting. Axel had offered to be his Wildstone sponsor and Gavin had taken him up on it.

“You’re late,” Axel said, wearing his usual perpetual scowl.

“No, I’m not.” Gavin waved his phone. “See? It’s eight on the dot.”

“On time is late. Early is on time.”

“Let me guess,” Gavin said, taking a seat. “You’ve been reading self-help books again.”

Axel gave a rare grin. “Nah. That came from my fortune cookie last night.”