Only boring people get bored. Jax’s mother’s words whispered through his mind with a painful pang. If she were here, she’d be bothered by Micah, too. He was eighteen, six months older and the son of the man everybody said was buying his way to the top of the town’s police force. Mom wouldn’t like the way Micah thought it gave him permission to do whatever he wanted, either.

“What do you want to do?” Paul said, rocking the swing with a toe. “You want to go somewhere?”

“This is Lake Crosby,” Jax reminded them. “There’s nothing to do.”

Micah reached behind him for a pillow, threw it at Jax’s head. “It’s Saturday night, dumbass. There’s bound to be some people out. Let’s go to town, see what everybody’s up to.”

“Micah’s right. I think I’m just going to go home.” Jax made like he was leaving, sitting up on the lounger, looking around for his keys, even though home was the very last place he wanted to be. The thought of going back there, of another minute in that house, made his chest hot all over again. Everybody here knew it was an empty threat.

Paul unfolded himself from the chair, stilling it with a hand. “Don’t go home, Jax. Come with us.”

“Come with you where?”

“To town. Out.”

“The only people in town this time of year are the tourists.”

“Even better.” Micah sat up on the bed, plunking his feet onto the floor. “Let’s see if we can find a bachelorette party. Those girls are always up for a good time.”

Jax rolled his eyes. “Those girls are also ten years older.”

“So?”

“So you’re being ridiculous.”

“And you’re being a buzzkill. Again.”

“Would both of you just stop?” Paul said, stepping directly between them. “We’ve been friends for too long for this kind of hostility. Where’s this coming from?”

Jax glared at his friends, and he didn’t know, either, though full disclosure, it wasn’t all that sudden and lately Jax harbored a hostility for everything and everyone. The three of them had been friends for ages, and for most of that time, he actually liked hanging out with Micah. Micah was fun and funny and a little crazy but in a good way, the kind of guy who was always the life of the party.

But lately, Jax had started noticing a streak that shot through the core of Micah, like the coal that used to snake through the Appalachians before they tore it all out. The way he was always hanging upside down from bridges or rappelling down waterfalls, how he always had to be the loudest person in the room. It was like Micah always had something to prove, and the older they got, the more Jax thought it was stupid.