Chapter 7The message arrived with Nick’s coffee, his name written across a folded piece of paper in a slanting, bold hand. He didn’t know who it was from, but when Drew and Alec failed to make an appearance for breakfast, he had his suspicions. He regarded the paper with gritty eyes, trying to guess its contents without actually having to read it. When he woke up that morning with a throbbing headache right behind his eyes and fuzzy memories of their conversation on the yacht, he had hoped that he’d simply dreamed the whole thing. It must have been a dream. What could have possibly possessed him to spill his guts to Alec as though they were anything like friends? The memory of the conversation left his stomach twisted and his palms clammy.
He tried to distract himself by watching the wait
