Текст книги "Becoming His"

Автор книги: Mariah Dietz

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

“Hey, baby!” The deep foreign voice growls as he clumsily tries to dance against me. One of his hands bars me to him while the other roughly paws at me. I turn again and catch sight of his dark buzzed hair and large, round head that is completely unfamiliar.

“I’ve retired for the evening.” I pull away from his sweat-drenched shirt.

“I’ll retire you,” he slurs with a grin and grips my arm, roughly tugging me forward, making me once again stumble as my chest collides with his. My eyes narrow as I take a closer look at his heavy stature and cocky grin that makes my blood boil.

Cringing as his hand slides across my jaw, he mumbles something I can’t hear over my own objections and the music. He’s bigger than I am, but he’s also drunk, and I feel repulsed. My palms lie flat against his chest and I shove against him. He grunts and smiles before locking his arms around me.

“Stop! Let me go.” I try to sound tougher and braver than I feel. I push against his shoulders again and he barely budges. His eyes slowly look down stopping at my chest; my body is pressed too close to his to see any further. I watch his mouth curl, but it looks like a sneer, making my stomach turn violently.

I suddenly hate my dress and the fact that it accentuates my body. As I struggle against him, my mind races to recall self-defense moves.

Strong hands suddenly grip the top of my arms and pull me backwards with an aggressive tug that has me stumbling to catch my balance. My eyes widen in shock as I see Max hurling himself at my assailant. Even over the raucous noise around us, I clearly hear the sickening pop as Max’s fist connects with the guy’s jaw and knocks him to the ground.

He stands up much quicker than I expect. Watching that hit and hearing the sound it made, I was afraid Max had seriously injured him. Before I can finish processing what’s about to happen, he lunges at Max, shockingly fast for a guy his size, and two others follow suit, grabbing for Max’s arms.

“Max!” I scream in horror as one of them works to restrain his right arm.

The hands that hold me fall, and Jameson charges toward them, landing a punch on one of the guy’s back, near his kidney. My eyes divert back to Max as another swings and connects his fist with Max’s stomach. I feel myself slouch as if I was the one hit. Max doesn’t seem to flinch as he drives his fist into the guy’s stomach in return.

I’m frozen, unsure of what to do. Growing up with four sisters, fist fighting is still quite foreign to me. If I’m ever at a party where a fight breaks out, I take that as my cue to leave.

One of the guys grabs Max’s arm again and pins it to his back. The stranger struggles to maintain his grip and reaches for his other arm. I watch as Max tries to shove him off, spewing curse words and threats before hitting him in the face with the back of his head. Amazingly, the guy doesn’t release his grip, even as his nose bleeds. The guy that had initially grabbed me, stalks over to Max, and the stranger behind him pulls tighter on his arms. I know from watching too many fight scenes in movies what’s going to happen next.

I don’t hesitate. I launch myself forward, creating a barrier between him and Max. Adrenaline courses through me as I try to focus on Caulder’s voice, calm and clear in my head. “Just knee them in the balls. They’ll drop to their knees, and then run.”

“Ace!” Max yells from behind me. “Get the hell away from here!”

But I can’t. My shoes feel like they’re cemented to the ground. Not from fear, but from the unexplainable need to protect him. The guy in front of me rotates his upper body, and I square my shoulders, reaching out to grip his, as Pedro flies in front of me tackling him to the ground. Within seconds he’s straddling the guy and waling on his face.

I whip my head around to ensure that Max is fine; he looks possessed. Landon appears next, and I see him punch the guy that has been holding Max’s arms. Blood now pours from both his nose and his mouth. My eyes don’t know where to focus as punches and threats are exchanged.

“Get her out of here!” Max yells, shoving me toward Landon. Landon nods and grabs my waist, lifting me over his shoulder before I can object. He carries me a few feet back before depositing me on my feet.

“Landon, someone’s going to get hurt!” I yell, trying to shove my way around him.

“What in the hell?” Kendall shrieks. I turn as she grabs my face with both hands and looks me up and down, but I repeatedly tell her that I’m fine.

“What happened?” she asks, her eyes following mine, though I’m sure hers find Jameson as mine lock on Max. I watch as his fist repeatedly connects with the guy that originally grabbed me. The guy’s face is bleeding and already starting to swell, yet Max isn’t slowing down.

“Landon does someone need to stop him?” Abby asks.

“Let’s go. Cops are probably going to show up,” Landon says, grabbing one of Jameson’s arms. Jameson straightens himself out, and they both walk to Max. Each of them grab an arm and pull him back. Pedro gives a final blow to a guy, and then he too goes to help them pull Max away, but it’s like he’s on autopilot.

“Max!” I yell, stepping closer now that no one is there to restrain me. “You’re going to kill him, stop!” I yell as he lands another punch on the guy’s face. I grab his arm that Jameson already works to restrain and can feel the tension in his entire body.

His eyes snap to mine; they’re cold, dark pools I don’t recognize, and I shake my head. “Stop. Please stop.” Unexpected tears burn in the back of my eyes as his begin to register recognition. He drops the hold that he has on the guy’s shirt. My hand falls from his arm as I turn to make my way to the front door. I need to get out of here.

“Ace!” Max’s voice calls out, and I feel the unfamiliar urge to stop and wait for him. Logically I know he just saved me—from what I’m not sure. I won’t allow my mind to go down that dark rabbit hole, but I know he protected me. The whole situation is just too overwhelming to process right now.

I hear the others calling to both Max and me as I weave through the crowd, focused on the front door. As I get halfway through the living room an unfamiliar guy wraps his arm around my waist and begins dancing against my side, pressing his pelvis into my hip and delivering a friendly smile. I push away and shoot him an icy glare. He backs away, apologizing.

The interaction slows me down enough so Max catches up with me, and I feel his hand on my lower back, following me through the remainder of the house.

I take a few gulps of the evening air. It’s cool against my sweat-dampened skin. Max’s hand grips my elbow and directs me forward as a few people pass to join the party.

He guides me over to a bench sitting under a large tree, and my body falls against the wooden planks. My head tilts back so I can take in the large expanse of the dark sky as I hastily pull my hair from my sweaty neck and shoulders into a knot.

“Ace, I know you’re pissed—”

“I’m not pissed, Max! I’m freaking overwhelmed and a little freaked out at the moment!” I didn’t intend to yell and feel a bit surprised when my voice comes out so loud. “What in the hell was that? You went nuts!” I run a hand over my face in exhaustion. “Are you okay?” I ask, focusing my eyes on his abdomen as the visions of Max being hit flash through my mind.

“I’m fine,” Max says automatically, shaking his head. His voice rises to match mine. “Ace that guy was going to …” He stops, his eyes squeeze shut, and his head shakes as he throws both of his hands in the air. Sighing, he looks down at his shirt. It’s covered in blood spatters. He peels it off in one fell swoop and uses the inside to wipe his face and arms.

“Ace, that guy and his friends were going to hurt you.” His voice is quieter as I turn away from him. “Fuck.” His chest heaves with a deep breath as he sits beside me and props his elbows on his knees, keeping his eyes focused on the yard as though he’s expecting someone to come.

“You always want to think everyone is nice and good, and it’s great to be all Anne Frank about humanity, but you have to have a little bit of self-preservation and realize that there are some seriously fucked-up people. It took Jameson and me forever to get to you. Then when his friends jumped me and I realized it was a team operation, I knew shit could’ve gotten really bad. People attack in teams like that for fucked-up reasons.” His eyes dance across my face watching his words resonate with me.

“You scared the shit out of me, Ace. I couldn’t figure out why you weren’t punching him! I know Caulder taught you girls that shit!” Max stands up again and throws his shirt in a bush. “And what in the hell were you thinking getting in the middle of things? Are you crazy?” His voice rises as he glares at me.

“Max you looked like you were going to kill that guy,” I admit barely above a whisper.

“Ace, I grew up with my brothers and me beating the shit out of each other. I knew he wasn’t going to die. If I’m lucky, I broke a couple of ribs and his fucking nose.”

I don’t bother expressing how ridiculous I find this. “We need to get out of here. If the cops come, they’ll arrest you.” He shakes his head and looks back to the house, and I can feel his desire to go back inside as he rakes a hand through his short hair.

“That’s the last thing I’m worried about right now.”

“Well, it’s pretty much at the top of my list, so let’s go. Kendall’s car is over there.” I grab Max’s hand and find it to be sticky with blood. I almost drop it from the disgust bubbling in my stomach, but when I look up to see Max looking at my hand wrapped around his, I stop. His eyes slowly reach mine and the calmness begins to return to his features.

“I have my Jeep,” he says, nodding to the street as he fishes his keys from his pocket. Red and blue lights light up the night sky, and I tighten my grip on Max’s hand, pushing him through the shrubs to the neighbor’s yard.

“Where are you parked?” He doesn’t bother answering, tugging me toward the street.

“Here, call Jameson. Tell him to get everyone out of there, and to take Pedro too.” I nod and take his phone.

Max pulls open the passenger door as Jameson’s phone begins ringing. I watch Max jog around the front of his Jeep while I breathe his familiar scent—the perfect balance of sweet, spicy, and musky. I take a deep, cleansing breath that the fresh air outside couldn’t offer me as Jameson answers.

“Dude, where in the hell are you guys? Please tell me Ace is with you. Kendall is freaking the fuck out, man!”

“It’s me,” I assure him. “We’re heading home now. Is everyone okay? Is Pedro with you?” I hear Jameson assure everyone that we’re alright before responding to me.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re good,” he says, letting out a deep breath as I hear Kendall firing off questions about what had happened, and where we are, and if I’m really okay.

“We’ll see you at home. Tell her everything’s fine and to calm down.” Before the barrage of questions can continue, I press end and set his phone down in the cup holder.

I feel Max’s eyes on me and try to fight the impulse to look at him. I successfully avoid meeting his gaze for about two minutes.

“Are you okay?”

I shake my head and let my head fall back against the seat. “I froze, Max. I completely froze.” I take a deep breath and look over to him as he glances between me and the road. “This summer has been such a confusing clusterfuck of emotions and events. I just hope that tonight was the pinnacle of this crazy summer, because that has got to be one of the top five worst parties I’ve ever been to. And that’s pretty impressive because last year Kendall entered the top five after she got so wasted she used my purse to empty her stomach.” I nod to myself, recalling the horrible memory. “But I knew how to fix it; I knew how to make it better. Tonight, I didn’t know what to do when he grabbed me.”

“You felt sympathy,” Max says. The words make my face crumple in a frown as I begin to rebuke, but realize he’s right. I did. I’m not sure why exactly, but I know that I did.

We sit quietly for a moment, the hum of the engine lolling me into a quiet sense of peace as I let the fear fade with each mile we go.

“Why did you go to Alaska?” Max looks over at me, his eyes wide. “You don’t have to tell me, I just always wondered why you left.”

“No, no, it’s just that people only ask me why I came back, like they forgot I had a reason to go.” He pauses and adjusts the radio as the band that we’d listened to together in his kitchen after the TP incident streams softly through the speakers.

“I went to find my dad. I needed to know why he left.” Max sits quietly as my heart breaks a little for him. I can’t imagine having lost my father, especially to have him just walk away one day and never look back.

“My grandma had heard that he and my uncle ended up in Alaska. When I got there I met this guy that told me this long story about my dad and how he used to be a fisherman with his brother for this company that went out for Chinook Salmon and King Crabs. So I went and tried to find the ship that they had worked for. My dad was long gone, but they offered me a job and the chance to go to more ports where he might still be working.”

His eyes flicker to me, and the right side of his lips quirk up before he turns back to the road. “That’s where I met Jameson. We spent seven months out on the ocean together. Few people remembered my dad. So when we docked I got off and enrolled at the University of Alaska and continued looking for people that might know something. Jameson and I met Landon there. He’d just gotten out of the Army and was going to school. Every once in a while someone would swear they knew who I was talking about and would tell me where to go, but they were all a bunch of loose ends. Who knows, he’s probably dead.”

Max’s fingers clench the wheel. “He was a heavy alcoholic that liked to gamble and use his fists to make his hard-headed points. He’s been gone a long time.”

I work to swallow several of the words I want to say. “I feel sorry for him.”

“What?” He looks at me with a grin I know is forced.

“I feel sorry for him, for missing out on seeing who you are.” Max raises an eyebrow as he balks. “I’m serious. You’re pretty great, Max.”

As we pass a well-lit stretch, shadows dance across Max’s bare chest. I’ve seen him shirtless several times now, from both running together and swimming, yet the image still distracts me. My eyes slowly trace over the planes of his chest and the contours that accentuate his abs, over to his tattoos.

“What are you thinking about over there, Ace?” My eyes flash to his and I feel my face flush as I turn to look away, trying to formulate a comprehensive sentence.

Thankfully his phone rings saving me. We both glance down to see the name ‘Megan’ light up across the screen. I glance at the clock and see that it’s nearly two in the morning.

“You can get that if you want,” I say, folding my hands in my lap and regretting my earlier admission.

“That’s alright,” he says, clicking ignore as we pull into his driveway.

I wrench the door open as soon as the engine shuts off and slam it behind me, trying to convince myself to not care that a girl is calling him at two in the morning, and the reason for it. He stops me at the back of his Jeep.

I open my mouth to say a forced thank you when Max’s frustrated tone stops me in my tracks. “Why are you still dating him?”

This is not where I had anticipated the conversation going, and it makes me feel defensive since he’s been ignoring me to hang out with Felicia, and possibly Megan. I take a breath and close my eyes. I don’t want to fight with Max. I miss his friendship.

“Why does it matter?” My voice comes out quiet as I work to keep it level and calm from the rush of conflicting emotions.

“Are you kidding me? Why does it matter?” Max lifts both of his arms in the air like he wants to grip something, and then lets his hands fall behind his head tilting up. He stares at the sky for a long moment. “Why are you doing this?”

“You’re dating Felicia!” The words come as an accusation. I’m not even positive that he’s referring to us; I’m hardly ever certain because he dances on this gray line so often it’s making me go half insane.

“What do you want me to do?” His voice is raised with frustration. “You confuse the shit out of me, Ace!” He quietly growls as he runs his hand over his head which is now dipped to the ground.

“I’m tired of trying to read through the lines, Max!”

“This isn’t about me. It’s about you! As your friend, I’m telling you, you should dump the fucker and get it over with. He’s a complete dick.” And with that he’s done it again, bringing me back to a lighter shade of gray as we return closer to the friendship line. “You deserve better than him.”

“I appreciate your friendly advice, Max,” I say dryly, taking a wide step around him.

“Ace …”

I turn, waiting for him to say what I need to hear. His lips part, but before he says anything, his phone rings piercing the moment.

“It sounds like she’s looking for you,” I say, looking at him, willing him to object or deny it. He stares back at me for a long moment before I turn around and make my way to my house.

“Dammit!” I hear Max growl in frustration, but I don’t turn around. I know if I do right now, I will reveal too much.

It’s been six days since I’ve seen Max. I’m driving myself crazy as I overanalyze everything about my relationship with him.

I’ve been cleaning for the past couple of days, using the excuse of going back to school and needing to pack to remain holed up in my room. I know from the looks and the many check– ins that I receive from my family that they can see through my excuse, and I won’t be able to hide out much longer.

“Are we okay?” I look up from scrubbing the baseboard and see Max making his way into my bedroom. He sits on the edge of my bed, waiting for my reply.

“Are we okay?” I repeat, wishing to know the answer myself.

“I haven’t seen you since Dante’s.”

I shrug noncommittally. “I’ve been busy. You’ve been busy.”

“I haven’t been busy. Did I do something?” Max stands up and takes a step closer to where I’m crouched. I have no idea what he’s thinking by the guarded expression on his face.

“No, of course not.”

“Do you want to go get something to eat?”

“I’m busy right now,” I answer, reaching into the bucket of diluted bleach to rinse my sponge.

“Scrubbing the walls?”

“Why do you care?”

“Why are you upset with me?”

“I’m not upset with you.”

“What are you, then?” He fires.

“Busy,” we both answer his question.

“I can’t fix it if you won’t tell me what it is.”

I shake my head, turning my attention back to the baseboards.

“Is this about Felicia? Because I’m pretty sure you’re still dating Eric.”

“No, we’re friends, Max. Friends don’t see each other every single day. There’s nothing weird between us.” I’m not able to hide the irritation in my tone.

“Alright,” Max says, retreating to the door. “I’m not going to push you to talk to me. But when you’re ready…” he changes directions and walks over to the window with the shade that has been permanently closed for the past nine odd years and tugs the strings to raise it “…you have my phone number. You can call me, text me, send me an SOS, throw a damn rock at my window. Hell, I’ll leave it open so when you’re ready, you can just yell to me. But don’t push me out, Ace. You don’t want that either.”

Before I can respond he strides out my bedroom door. I let out a deep sigh, dropping the sponge back in the bucket as I lean against the wall. Agitation bubbles inside of me with the knowledge that he’s right, and even more so because he knows he’s right. I stand up. I need to get out of here for a while.

The next day is Sunday. Typically I stick around the house on Sundays, offering help to my parents with cooking and preparing for the family to come over as I spend time with my parents, but I need some time out of the house and away from Max. So instead I take Abby up on her offer when she calls to hang out.

She recently began dating a guy named Jesse that I’m moderately familiar with. The two have been spending a lot of time together, and I’m happy for her, even though my love life is really sucking lately. She adamantly declares it’s just a “casual relationship” and I know she’s doing it to try and protect my feelings so I try to be overly enthusiastic about everything she shares with me.

When we pull up to my house it’s obvious we’re some of the last to arrive based on the congested driveway.

“Finally! I thought you were going to be a no-show!” Kyle cries, kicking a soccer ball across the yard with an impressive arc that I catch at chest height as Abby squeals and jumps.

“Sorry, Abs!” he calls, jogging over to us. I’ve stopped paying attention though because I’ve spotted Max. He’s standing beside my dad, holding a beer, as Jameson and my dad laugh at something. His face is stoic as he stares at me.

My line of sight is interrupted as Kyle wraps me up in an aggressive hug that has my feet dangling a few inches off the ground.

“You want to go golfing Thursday? Dad said you were on fire last week!” He sets me down and steals the soccer ball from my hands.

I close my eyes to move my focus and nod. “Sure.”

“I’m glad you’re so excited to hang out with me!”

I laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so excited that I’m overcompensating to keep it all in.”

“That’s better.” I laugh, wrapping my arm around his waist as he wraps one around my shoulders. We walk to the yard, dribbling the soccer ball back and forth.

“How come you never get that excited to see me?” Caulder teases.

“Seriously,” Mindi says with a laugh from her lounge chair. “He doesn’t get that excited to see me.”

“Obviously he gets pretty excited to see you,” Savannah says, lifting an eyebrow as she motions to Mindi’s growing stomach, making us laugh. Kyle and I head to the back corner of the yard as Abby sits down to chat with my two oldest sisters.

“You’re rusty.” Kendall approaches with Jameson and Max flanking her.

“Don’t provoke her. She can still kick my ass,” Kyle says, dribbling the ball on his knees.

“Don’t lie.” I watch as he begins alternating from his feet to his knees with his dribble; Kyle taught me everything I know about soccer.

He grins and catches the ball with his hands and tosses it to me. “I wish I were. I need to go check on Mindi before she really does kick my ass.” He grins.

I watch Kyle make his way over to her chair and dip down as he kisses her sweetly on the cheek. I turn back to Kendall and offer her the ball.

“Don’t be a smartass,” she mutters, eliciting an innocent smile from me. I drop the ball and watch it roll.

“What did you guys do today?” I ask, trying to ease the awkwardness that’s quickly swallowing us.

“I want to see your mad skills,” Jameson says, nodding to the soccer ball that has ironically stopped a few inches short of Kendall. He’s either oblivious to the mood, or trying to distract them as well.

“You’d feel like you lost a piece of your manhood if I showed you,” I tease.

“She is pretty good,” Kendall admits.

“Why don’t you play anymore?” Jameson asks.

“I just was.”

“Like for college.”

I shrug. “We’re pulling your leg, really, I kind of suck.”

“She’s lying.” Kendall’s growing annoyance with me is evident in her tone as she kicks the ball at me in frustration. I laugh, raising my sandal-clad foot to stop it from hitting me in the shins.

“What did you guys do today?” I repeat.

“Mom and I made a bazillion tamales. Since you weren’t here to help it took forever.”

“You should’ve called. Abby and I would’ve come.”

“We did! Guess who answered your phone?”

I look at her confused, trying to recall where my phone is. “Who?”

“Eric! He said you left it there yesterday! I thought you were breaking up with him!” I don’t mention that I’d left it because Eric was acting like a complete idiot and had friends over that made Nate look like a boy scout and didn’t feel safe going back to get it by myself.

“Call Abby next time,” I reply, earning a scowl.

“Want to go do a shot before dinner? It’s a full house tonight.”

Kendall looks at me and slowly gives her head the slightest shake. “You’re such a pain in my ass.”

I grin, knowing that she’s just agreed to drop it at least for the moment. I wrap my arm around her shoulders directing her to the house. After a few steps I look over my shoulder at Jameson and Max. They haven’t moved. “Are you guys coming?”

Jameson grins and immediately falls into step with us, but Max lags behind, staring at me again with the same puzzled expression that he looks at me so often with.

Once inside, Kendall grabs a short stack of shot glasses and heads to the living room where I’m showing the guys their liquor choices.

“We’re having tequila.”

I furrow my eyebrows at Kendall, finding this demand to be ridiculous and bizarre.

“Unless you’d like to continue our conversation, we’re drinking tequila,” Kendall says with a glare.

I grab the bottle of Jose Cuervo and lift it up in response. Kendall sets down the glasses and fills each of them before raising her glass for a toast. We each follow suit, and look at her expectantly.

“You waiting for something?” Jameson asks, cocking an eyebrow at Kendall.

“All of my toasts are filled with bitchy comments.” She makes it a point to look directly at me.

“To Utter. Fucking. Confusion,” Max declares. My eyebrows rise when I turn to see if there’s more. Max looks down at me with hard eyes.

“Cheers to that,” Kendall says, sounding exasperated as she leads us in throwing back our shots.

When we emerge from the house I notice Paul’s arrived and quickly shuffle myself behind my dad and Caulder, who are talking as my dad grills. Although I’m standing right beside them, their words fail to penetrate me as I watch Abby sit beside Max.

“Why are you avoiding Max?” I give a sideways glance to Caulder and realize he and my dad are both looking at me.

“I’m not.”

“Then what’s going on with you two? It seems like you’re avoiding him.”

“She is,” my mom says, coming up behind me carrying a couple of glasses of slushy red margaritas to my dad and Caulder.

“I am not.” My voice goes higher with each word.

“She’s been busy with getting ready to head back to school.” I look at my dad appreciatively, but catch the look of concern that crosses his face as he covers for me.

“So what do you think? Which Bosse do you think is the hottest?” I turn at the sound of Paul’s voice and watch as he takes a swig of his drink. His inappropriate comment thankfully distracts the prying eyes of Caulder and my mom, who looks at him with disdain, and for the first time that I can recall I feel grateful for Paul and his dickish ways … until I realize he’s posing his question to Max. Great.

“I think the Bosse women are in a class of their own,” Max responds gracefully, seemingly unfazed by Paul’s question, or the fact that he’s settling in next to him, looking eager to discuss more inappropriate topics.

“You played that card very safely, my friend,” Paul says, grinning and slapping Max on the back.

“So, you’re friends with four and five?” Paul leans in closer to Max with a cocky smirk that has me straining to hear what he’ll say next.

“Four and five?” Max asks, raising his eyebrows.

Paul’s smirk widens to a grin, “Kendall and Ace, four and five,” he explains as though this is the cleverest of ideas. Max gives a single slow nod, and I can tell from just seeing his profile that he thinks Paul’s a complete tool.

“Dinner time!” my mom calls, interrupting the focus that’s quickly moved to Max and Paul.

With my plate piled with tamales, I search for a place to sit. Mindi’s seated at the patio table with Savannah, discussing pregnancy and kids, and I can tell by her tone she’s in need of more of those strawberry marshmallows. I opt to take a seat on one of the patio chairs near the pool. I’m still working to get myself situated when Paul sits beside me, and I instantly regret thinking I was grateful for him being here.

“So are we playing some pool basketball after dinner, Ace?” he asks, knocking his knee against mine.

“I don’t know if the others are, but I’m not.” I have a strict policy about remaining fully covered at all times around Paul. He has a tendency to have wandering eyes and hands that has led to pool basketball being permanently canceled in his presence.

“Come on,” Paul cries, setting a hand on my bare knee. “You never play anymore.”

The chair beside me fills and I glance over to see my dad and feel relief and embarrassment wash through me as he gives me a tight smile. “I actually had to add some extra chemicals into the pool today. The PH balance was off, so it’s closed for a couple of days.”

“We could play volleyball, those still require bikinis,” Paul says with a grin.

“Ace and I have plans. Sorry, no bikinis tonight, Paul.” Max stands in front of me.

I try to disguise my shock as I glance at him, feeling confused and uncertain about whether he’s expressing jealousy or just trying to be a good friend and save me. His attention is on Paul, daring him to object.

“You should probably go sit down next to Jenny. She’s looking for you,” he adds. Paul looks up at Max like he’s trying to size him up and gives a small grin, shaking his head before wandering away.

Max takes his vacant seat, settling in as my dad begins discussing the idea of remaking a new vintage car with him while I move my food from side to side with my fork.

When my dad gets up to go for seconds Max leans towards me. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Not really.” I move my attention from my nearly full plate to Max’s eyes. I had been starving, but trying to decipher Max’s intentions filled my stomach with nerves.

“Are you ready to go, then?”

“Where are we going?”

“We need to talk.” Standing up, he takes my plate and stacks it on his, balancing it in one hand and offering me his other. I feel the familiar warmth and pull I’ve been missing as I slip my hand in his, relieved that he seems less upset than when I’d arrived.

“You have to put your Converse on though, or something close-toed.” I eye him curiously but willingly go and trade shoes as instructed.