“I won’t.”
We exchange a look and I know he won’t. It’s Max, after all. He’s predictable. What’s important to those he cares about is important to him. And he doesn’t want me to kill him. That helps, I’m sure.
There’s a comfortable silence between us, the product of a friendship that’s spanned years. He’s seen me at my best and my worst, helped me make decisions, helped me bury my father. We’ve loved some of the same people, lost some of the same friends. Looking at what my life is now and what it’s going to become, he’s the only consistent part of my life both pre and post-Jada.
“Who would’ve thought I’d be getting married before you? Man, life’s fucked up,” I say.
“It is.” He watches the television above my head. His jaw tenses and the vein at his temple pulses.
“What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re acting strange.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m fucking serious, Max. What’s up?”
He sighs and sits the bottle on the table, peeling the label back. He thinks about what he’s going to say. “Kari and I were watching television last night and a commercial came on about a wedding package or some shit. I made a comment about getting married. I wasn’t even insinuating that we should get married here because you know I wouldn’t do that. I was just talking in general and she completely balked. She put that wall up of hers and changed the subject.”
“You’ve said that before. She doesn’t want to talk about it.”
“Yeah, man, she doesn’t. If she just would say, ‘I don’t wanna get married right now,’ I’d be okay with it. But she won’t even say that. She just gets pissed off or walks out of the room. And being here is making her even weirder about it. Like she expects me to drive her to a chapel and make her marry me.”
“Maybe you should,” I laugh. “It’d take the pressure off.”
“Yeah. She’d have my balls faster than I could blink.”
“What do you think is her problem? I don’t get it. She’s all crazy about helping Jada and I get ours together. And you want to get married.”
He shrugs and I feel sorry for him. He’s a great guy. There’s no reason Max Quinn shouldn’t be married and having babies, except for the fact that the one girl he wants doesn’t want either thing. It sucks.
“We’ve all had time to run around, play the field. I don’t get what her hang-up is. She obviously loves you.”
“I don’t know. I can’t figure it out to save my soul.”
“So, what do you do? I mean, do you just stick it out with her and hope she comes around? Or do you just call it quits and find someone that requires less work?”
He shrugs again. “I don’t know, Alexander. I love her. I love her more than anything, you know that. But I feel like I can’t make any progress with her because I don’t understand her. And she won’t let me in far enough to figure it out.”
“Well,” I say, climbing out of the booth. “I, for one, am totally for the white chapel shit. I’ll drive you there myself.”
“I bet you would,” he says, tossing a twenty dollar bill on the table. “You’d love to see her kill me.”
“Kari’s a good girl. If you don’t lock her up quick, you might get stuck with something like that.” I grin and nod towards the waitress coming back our way. “She’d be a good piece of ass.”
Max quirks a brow, not wanting to encourage me to continue.
Too late.
“You might want to try that out since you’re so unsure about what you’re gonna do with Kari. Sampling the goods never hurt anybody.” I smile, trying to gauge his reaction. I want to rile him up just a bit. “Hell, she might be down at the pool right now getting some—”
“Shut your mouth, Cane. I’m not fucking kidding.”
I roar with laughter. “Now we’re getting somewhere!”
“You’re such an asshole.”
“It’s been said before.”
JADA
The casino is bursting with people. There’s so much to see and do that it’s hard to focus. I have no idea how people pay attention to the games enough to win anything. Everything is one giant distraction.
The guys played in a poker tournament earlier this evening. Kari and I had a late lunch at a little bistro in the hotel and then played slots while our boys finished up. Cane was eliminated in the fourth round and Max made it a little longer, but they both came out empty handed.
We meander through the maze of machines when I spy a roulette table. Kari and I watched a few games of it earlier and it looked like fun. I think most games are rigged to beat you, but roulette seems fairly objective.
“I wanna try roulette,” I say, tugging on Cane’s hand. “I like this game.”
We all stop and watch the table in front of us. The bets are made and then the ball bursts outs and spins around the wheel.
“You played before?” Max asks.