I fill them in just fine. A burning sensation rises up my chest. I think it’s heartburn. “I don’t know why I need to hear that.”

He huffs out a humorless laugh. “I don’t fucking know either, Delilah.” With a sigh, he leans his head back and rubs a hand over his face. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

Ordinarily, Macon is in perfect control. That he seems to be sliding off kilter worries me. “Are you drunk?”

“No. Why? Do I look drunk?” He smiles as though the thought amuses him.

“You’re sitting in the dark,” I say shortly. “Making vague and morose statements. It’s a little creepy.”

Macon cuts me a glare. “Didn’t feel like going to sleep.”

“Okay, sure.”

His glare grows glacial. “And you weren’t home.”

“Were you waiting up for me?” I don’t know how I feel about that. Mushy? Nope. I’m too sick at the thought of Macon and “willing” Anya to be mushy.

He frowns and looks away. “No.”

Liar.

“So what? You gave Anya a ride on the Macon train and then were so exhausted you had to sit here in the dark, thinking deep thoughts?”

“The Macon train?” he chokes out, then shakes his head. “Fuck, Delilah, your mouth . . .” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “There were no Macon rides.”

I let that settle, but my insides continue to flip and flutter. “Why not?”

Oh my God, shut up, drunken Delilah.

He looks as surprised at the question as I am. But then his expression grows cagey. “I didn’t want to.”

“You didn’t want to have sex with a hot and willing woman?”

Seriously, you need to shut up.

His gaze narrows on me. “You really want to go down this road?”

Swallowing thickly, I lower my eyes. “No. It’s none of my business.” I lift my hand in a helpless gesture. “I’m mouthy when I’m buzzed.”

“You’re mouthy when you aren’t too.”

I pretend to put on lipstick with my middle finger.

Macon almost smiles, but he’s still pissy about something. His fingers drum an idle rhythm on the chair arm, his gaze turning inward. We’re both silent for a minute.

When he speaks, his words come out measured and slow. “You ever come to a crossroads in your life? When you think you have everything figured out, and then you realize you know nothing? And you have no clue which way to go from there?”

He glances at me as if he truly wants to know. And my heart begins to beat a little harder.

“Yes,” I whisper. Truth is, I’m there now.

“What did you do about it?” he whispers back.