A lifetime with Max would be thousands of extraordinary days.
The problem being—would Max ever genuinely want any of this?
“He’s nervous about leaving, nervous about us. I want to keep dating, regardless of where he is. But Max hasn’t ever dated anyone before or been in a long-term relationship. All of this is new for him, and maybe, maybe he just can’t—”
I bit my tongue. Didn’t say my fear, which was Maybe he’s just not cut out for this. He’d only told me he wasn’t a hundred different times.
I looked to my sister, hands still holding the dress. “He’s used to temporary, running when things get intense or hard. I’m worried he’s about to—”
“Run?”
My stomach twisted. “Yes.”
I dropped the gown and sank back down on the couch. Roxy smoothed my hair down in an extremely maternal gesture I appreciated. I pressed my cheek back to my knee, feeling sorry for myself. The adrenaline of last night was wearing off, and reality was setting in.
Max was leaving in a few hours and everything seemed unstable and terrifying and not in the good way. I suddenly longed for the safety of contracts and spreadsheets.
“Can you try on more dresses for me please? I need to think about bridal veils.”
“Of course.” She went back inside and then proceeded to do her own Roxy fashion show for the next hour, each dress more traditional and more ridiculous. We were giggling so loudly by the end we drew stares from the other shoppers.
But right before we were about to leave, I heard her gasp softly. I texted my mom.
I think Roxy might have found her wedding dress. Stay tuned for a video call.
I understood my sister better than anyone, and I had slipped an option in there I knew she wouldn’t notice at first. But if my instincts were correct, and they usually were, I knew what my sister needed.
A moment later, she opened the door. “Is this your doing?”
I stood up, then back, utterly in shock. “It sure is. And you are exquisite, Roc.”
She gulped, moved carefully over to the three-way mirror. I was smiling so big my cheeks hurt. My big sister was getting married to her soul mate, and no one deserved happiness more.
Roxy flushed, then smiled shyly as she brushed her hands down the material. She was wearing a white pantsuit with a daringly low-cut silk tank. She slid her hands in the pockets, looking jaunty as hell.
I pulled her silvery-blond hair over one shoulder and handed her a pair of white boots I’d found while in between outfit changes. She slipped them on.
“I did tell Edward I’d never wear a white dress.”
“Exactly. These are pants. And you’ll have pockets.”
“I do enjoy a dapper blazer on a woman.”
I crossed my arms. “It looks like you.”
“Can you… can you call Mom?”
I held up my phone. Mom was already on the video screen, sitting on our couch. She literally screamed when she saw Roxy.
“As I live and breathe. Roxy Ramone Quinn, you are a vision of new wave sensibility!”
I pointed at the screen. “She’s fucking right.”
Roxy let out a shaky breath. “You think I look okay?”
“How do you feel about it?” Mom asked.
My sister looked up at me. “I love it so fucking much.” She spun back around to the mirror, like she couldn’t believe it was real. “It’s not black and lacy.”
“Nope.”
“It’s not what I thought I wanted.”
I swallowed hard. “No. But it’s what you needed.”
She twirled around joyfully. She showed off in front of the mirrors, striking various poses, blowing kisses to her own reflection.
My sister was about to say yes to the dress. And it wasn’t even a dress but a nicely tailored suit.
And I was pretty damn sure Max Devlin was my soul mate. My cocky, commitment-phobic bad boy wasn’t at all what I thought I needed.
But he was everything I wanted in this world.
43
Max
Pop walked with me to Fiona’s place. I had only one bag and had shipped my bike out to my new apartment in L.A. My plane ticket was in my pocket.
“You’ll call when you get there, right?” he said.
“Sure will.”
I felt a little sick. Just another symptom of being home, I guess. I could add it to the sweaty palms and dorky finger-guns.
“You okay?”
I stubbed my boot against the sidewalk. Shrugged. “When I saw Mom this afternoon, she basically told me I was never going to be happy in a relationship like the one I want with Fiona. That I’m too much like her and she only ever felt…” I stumbled. “Trapped.”
Pop crossed his arms across his chest. “Your mother said that?”
“Yeah.”
He looked over his shoulder, grimaced. “She was unhappy with us. She threw up warning signs left and right that I ignored, even when my family begged me to do otherwise. What you and Fiona have, I don’t think me and your mom ever had. What you two have is special. You’re not gonna run from that.”
I wasn’t so sure. Wasn’t it better to cut ties before you actually hurt someone? Because launching into a future with Fiona that was this fragile felt so scary it made it hard to breathe.
I took that as a sign. A pretty big one.
“Did Mom break your heart?” I asked.
Pop was quiet. Fidgety. “Yeah. There were some dark days.”
Dark days was a fib. I remembered dark years.
“I don’t think that’s your future though,” Pop said. “Besides, you were the one who helped me meet Angela. Who told me not to be afraid. That’s your own advice. Think you should listen to it.”
I nodded but didn’t say a word.
Pop looked down at the ground. “You could stay, Maxy. We could go back to being a team.”
I really was like Mom, blowing into town and disappointing her loved ones.
“We’ll always be a team, Pop,” I said. “And I’m going to call you more, I promise. Mateo will set up the video chat so I can take you with me to the beach and stuff.”
“Had to ask,” he said. “Come here and give your old man a hug.”
I did, my throat working and eyes stinging.
“I love ya, Max.”
“I love you too, Pop.”
I was halfway through the door before he called back to me. “Your mother, she had a whole other life once she left. One that suited her better, or so she says. But she missed most of your childhood when I got to see all of it. You were like… magic. Changing every day. Learning new things. The guys at The Red Room used to call you my shadow because we were never apart. I’m not jealous of the way she lives. Leaving you was never an option for me.”
44
Fiona
The words of my contract stared up at me from my coffee table.
I, Fiona Lennox Quinn, hereby commit to finding my soul mate and being married to him within eighteen months of the signing date. I will not engage in any physical affection, including but not limited to kissing, hand-holding, and, of course, sex until I can guarantee his commitment.