“Such a fucking flirt.”
“You like it,” he said, lips brushing mine. I kissed him this time, brushing my tongue against his, enjoying the illicit feeling of his palms skating down my back to squeeze my ass. I hissed in a breath.
“Still sore?” he asked.
“In the best way.”
He gave me one last kiss before slowly untangling us. Wiping his mouth, he stepped back. “One more minute and your parents would really hate what I’d be about to do.”
“Save it for that second date, huh?”
He shoved his hands in his back pockets. “Yes, ma’am.”
I turned to go but he stopped me. “Can I see your room? I’m guessing it’s a shrine to good grades and studying.”
I flipped on the lights, revealing a princess-pink room full of books, wall calendars, and framed achievement awards. “You’re not wrong.”
“Holy shit, Fiona.” Max was smiling, walking around my old room, looking sexy as sin in his black tee shirt. The muscles in his arms rippled with tattoos, biceps bulging as he brushed his dark hair from his forehead. In high school, I would have certainly enjoyed sneaking Max into my bedroom. Or sneaking out to go meet him.
“This was my sanctuary.” I leaned against my white desk, placing my hand on a faded stack of wedding magazines. The bookcase next to it was full of my favorite books, neatly arranged by spine color. “My parents expected Roxy and me to get good grades, but their definition of good was pretty loose. And they were always more concerned with education that took place outside of the classroom. I was pretty self-motivated to score those straight A’s and would hide up here, with earplugs, when this house was too loud and chaotic.”
He looked at me over his shoulder. “I can see how that could happen. Before you showed up, your parents were playing a Misfits album at ear-splitting decibels while giving us a tour of their garage that included a lot of drum simulations.”
“That’s them, all right,” I said. “They’ll smother you with love, but it does come at an especially loud volume.”
He walked over to the bookshelf, picking up a framed picture of me and my sister in our ballerina costumes. “Tiny terrors, I bet.”
“We certainly scared a preschool teacher or too. That’s from our ‘Young Americans’ performance.”
He looked up. “You’re somethin’ else, Fiona Quinn.”
Max wandered back to me, sliding his fingers along the top of my hand, where it rested on the stack of magazines. I thought he might ask, but instead he tugged me toward the door. “We should get back. Before I ravage you here and ruin my squeaky-clean reputation.”
I took his hand. But didn’t miss the strange way he looked at those magazines covered with brides and grooms on their special day. I was still leaping, still willing to drop into the scary parts of being with someone. But Max knew where I stood on weddings and marriage—which were still a far cry from dating.
I hushed those thoughts as quickly as I could, instead focusing on his fingers entwined with mine, and the protected, comforting sensation that gave me. Grinned as we passed picture after picture of my family with Max stopping to examine each one. By the time we slipped back into the garage, Thai food in hand, I’d convinced myself it was a trick of shadow and lighting. Nothing to be too worried about.
My parents were both laughing uproariously at a story Pop was telling.
Mateo glanced up at and shrugged at Max. “Sorry, hermanito. It’s the ‘Embarrassing Max Story Hour’ in here.”
Rafael shook his head. “We didn’t even tell them about the time you dated two cheerleaders at the same time who fought over you in the school cafeteria.”
I shoved a smirking Max hard in the arm. “You did what?”
“It’s only embarrassing because they spent weeks in a fight over it. But then ended up falling in love with each other.”
“Miranda and Claire are extremely happy together now,” Rafael said.
“Yeah?” Max brightened. “Good for them. And what can I say? I bring people together.”
I rolled my eyes as we set the food out, not missing the secret glances my parents kept sneaking over at Max and me. I’d never brought a ton of men home to meet them—because rarely did I have a relationship last long enough to do so. The fact that Max was a person they’d known and loved for a long time made this entire evening seem heavier, more important, than if he was some random guy.
“You guys take the couch for a bit,” Mateo said with a wink. I scooped up a plate of pad thai, grabbed my beer, and snuggled on the couch with my feet tucked beneath me. Max joined not a second later, laying a firm hand on my knee and squeezing. Keeping it there, tethering us together, while still looking relaxed. Maybe he was feeling it too, that sense of connection that existed between our families.
“What was Max like as a kid?” I asked Pop.
“Charming and handsome,” Max said.
“He was awkward as the rest of us, sadly,” Mateo said, shoving Max’s knee. He laughed, gave me another little squeeze.
Pop leaned forward a little. “Me and Max were a real team, especially after the divorce. But even before then, we did everything together. Go to the park, watch movies. Max would do his homework in the office at The Red Room while I worked.”
“Mateo’s mom would cook us dinner sometimes when she knew Pop was busy,” Max said. “And Mateo’s dad would help me with my math homework since I was terrible at it.”
“Yeah, me too.” Pop was smiling. Really smiling. “But Max, I don’t know, he always loved people. He’d shoot the shit with bands coming through like he was a reporter for Rolling Stone. Made friends with everyone. All his teachers always told me he was their favorite.”
Max laughed beneath his breath. “Yeah. We had a lot of fun together, didn’t we, old man?”
Pop nodded. Coughed.
My mom was strumming on her guitar again, plucking at a melody that was pleasant with a pop music hook. My dad hummed a little, matching her perfectly. “You must have a ton of friends on the road,” she said to Max. “Or is it hard to connect with people?”
I saw Max’s jaw tighten—but it was probably imperceptible to everyone else. He lifted a shoulder, cool as can be. “It’s pretty easy to meet people, especially when I take jobs in bigger cities. I usually hang with mechanics from the shop, meet some folks out at bars and stuff.”
“That sounds nice,” she said. “Lou and I always meet the most interesting and unique people on the road. I do miss this, though, this community. Hard to build when you’re always on the move. Although that might only be my experience, not yours.”
Max glanced at Mateo. “It’s not always the same. You’re right. I’m a little more on my own, to be honest.”
I’d always thought Max’s lifestyle sounded lonely, although I understood that was mostly because it wasn’t the right lifestyle for me. But every time he talked about it, there was an air of forced levity I couldn’t place. Maybe he was lonelier than he realized.
“It’s why I’ll always campaign for Max to stay here,” Mateo said. “We’ll be slicing the tires on that bike from now until eternity.”