I started my discussion on the stages of the recovery process. I knew this material backward and forward.

And while my mouth moved, the words flowing easily, my brain was engaged in a desperate battle. My willpower was flagging and threatening to give way under the force of Maxx’s eyes.

Do not look at Maxx! I admonished myself over and over again.

I tried to ignore the tingling sensation as I passed out the evening’s worksheet and just happened to brush my fingers against his.

I was failing miserably.

“Tonight you’re going to be writing a letter to yourself. I want you to think about where you want to be in six weeks, six months, six years. Write about the challenges you see for yourself, but also the successes you’ve had. You’re also to include some positive self-messages that your future self would want to hear. Be honest. Be realistic,” I said.

“Can I get some extra paper?” Maxx asked.

I cleared my throat and responded with a barely audible, “Sure.”

I handed him the paper, and when he took it from my hand, his fingers purposefully caressed the skin of my palm. His touch lingered, his eyes burning into mine. The room around us receded, and there was only us.

“Aubrey,” Brooks called out, returning me to reality. I instantly pulled my hand back as if the touch had singed me.

Maxx’s face darkened. He looked at Brooks, who watched us like a hawk. Maxx’s expression was murderous.

“Can I get a pencil and paper?” Brooks asked stiffly, arching his eyebrow. Maxx opened his mouth as if to say something, but I hurried over before he was able to speak.

“Here,” I said, thrusting the paper into my friend’s hand. Brooks’s eyes flashed as he looked at me.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

I returned to my chair and made nonsensical notes on my pad of paper, trying to calm the pounding of my heart. Everyone was silent; the only sound was that of the scratching of pencils on paper.

I watched Maxx as slyly as possible, but he seemed to be engrossed in writing his letter.

When the time was up, I handed out envelopes and instructed everyone to put the letters inside, writing their addresses on the outside. Kristie had explained to me that she would mail the letters at the end of the group for them to read.

“This is so fucking stupid,” Evan stated as I went around, collecting the letters. Here we go. I should have known I wouldn’t be able to get through the group without Mr. Pleasant telling everyone his opinion about something.

I tried not to roll my eyes. Honestly, I did. But I was having a hard time with self-control. “Why is that?” I asked him blandly and knew I had pissed him off.

“Like a fucking letter will change what we do with our life. This psychobabble bullshit won’t do anything. You prissy bitches on your soapboxes lecturing about what we should and shouldn’t be doing need to fuck off and worry about yourselves,” he spat out. I felt my face get hot as a few others made noises of agreement.

I held my hand out to take his letter, refusing to engage with him. Deep breaths, Aubrey. Rein it in. Ignore him. I chanted soothing phrases over and over in my head.

I knew that Evan was looking for a reaction. He wanted an argument. And I wouldn’t be giving him one even if I had some choice, colorful comments that I’d like to make.

Evan glared up at me, clicking the ring in his tongue across his bottom teeth. “I’m not giving this to you,” he said angrily. April looked between her boyfriend and me nervously.

I retracted my hand. “That’s your choice,” I said mildly, moving to take the next person’s letter.

“You’re not taking any of our letters,” he announced, getting to his feet. Evan drew his body upright, apparently trying to make himself more intimidating.

Okay, and maybe he was a little intimidating, particularly since it seemed no one was in a hurry to intervene. Thanks a lot, guys.

“That’s not your call to make, Evan,” I replied carefully, making eye contact with him. It was important to not show weakness, to not let him know he was getting to me—even though he was. He worried me. His behavior was decidedly unhinged.

Evan smacked the pile of letters out of my hand and kicked them out of my reach with his feet. “Fuck this shit!” he growled.

Brooks was on his feet and by my side in an instant. He held his hands up in a placating gesture. “Let’s just take a moment, Evan, and calm down,” he said soothingly, employing all of those superb counseling skills he had been developing over the last four years.

Well, apparently, the words calm down had the exact opposite of the intended effect on Evan. He kicked his chair, sending it clattering to the floor. He started to escalate quickly, his eyes bulging out of his head. Now that I was looking directly at them, it was obvious that both he and April had been using before group.

So employing reason and logic wasn’t going to be an option.

“Evan, I think it’s time you left,” Brooks said firmly, making small, inconspicuous steps toward Mr. I’m-ready-to-go-psycho-on-your-ass.

April tried to put a hand on her boyfriend’s arm, but he threw it off with enough force to knock her backward. The rest of the group members were slowly moving away. Cowards.

“I’ll leave when I’m fucking ready to leave!” Evan yelled, spit flying from his mouth. He looked crazed. He looked ready to inflict some serious damage . . . to Brooks’s face and mine.

He took one menacing step toward me, and I couldn’t help but back up. I didn’t care if it showed weakness, if I was practically announcing to the entire room that this guy scared the crap out of me. My survival instincts kicked in, and my need to get away from him outweighed everything else.

Before Evan could move toward me again, Maxx had him by the front of his shirt and shoved against the wall. He pressed his forearm against his throat and leaned in, his face so terrifying it made Evan instantly stop struggling.

“Don’t you ever fucking talk to her like that!” Maxx pressed into his throat again, making Evan gasp for breath.

“Do you hear me, shit stain? If you ever put a hand on her, I’ll kill you!” he roared. Evan flinched, and the fight had left him completely. April was sobbing in her chair, and the rest of the group members were gaping in shock at the turn of events.

Brooks grabbed Maxx’s arm and pulled on him. “Get off him, Maxx! Now!” he hollered, but Maxx was like a wall of stone as he continued to glare at Evan, not bothering to acknowledge Brooks at all.

“You need to apologize to Aubrey. Right now. If you don’t, you’ll be pissing out your teeth for a week!” Maxx said, his voice low and cold. He pressed his arm harder into Evan’s throat, and the other man started to turn an unnatural shade of blue.

Brooks yanked on Maxx’s arm again, and finally he let himself be pulled back. Evan gulped in a breath, his eyes darting to me. “I’m sorry,” he rasped, rubbing his throat.

I could only nod, just as shocked as the rest of the room with Maxx’s He-Man transformation. Evan grabbed April’s hand, and they practically ran from the room.

Brooks was saying something to Maxx, but Maxx moved past him and headed straight to me. He took my hands and brought them up to his mouth. He didn’t kiss my skin, only held them against his lips as he closed his eyes and tried to get himself together.

The room was deathly still, everyone watching us. This was bad. I really should put a stop to it. But I couldn’t move. I was trapped by the mass of quivering need that unleashed in my belly the moment Maxx touched me.

He finally opened his eyes and brought my hands down. “Are you all right?” he asked me quietly.

I could only nod, as I was finding even breathing difficult. The intensity of his gaze was unsettling, but God help me if I didn’t want to throw my arms around his neck and hold him.