Kitabı oku: «The Shape Of My Heart»
Some people wait decades to meet their soul mate. Courtney Kaufman suspects she met hers in high school—only to lose him at seventeen. Since then, Courtney’s social life has been a series of meaningless encounters, though she’s made a few close friends along the way. Especially her roommate, Max Cooper, who oozes damaged bad-boy vibes from every pore.
Max knows about feeling lost—he’s been on his own since he was sixteen. Now it’s time to find out if he can ever go home again, and Courtney’s the only one he trusts to go with him. But the trip to Providence could change everything….
It started out so simple. One misfit helping another. Now Max will do anything to show Courtney that for every heart that’s ever been broken, there’s another that can make it complete.
Also available from Ann Aguirre and Mira Ink
I Want It That Way As Long As You Love Me
The Shape of
My Heart
Ann Aguirre
www.miraink.co.uk
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Book List
Title Page
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
EPILOGUE
Author’s Note
Extract
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
If my life were a romantic comedy, I wouldn’t be the star.
I’d be the witty, wise-cracking friend, telling the Reese Witherspoon character to follow her heart, and I’d be played by America Ferrera, Hollywood’s idea of an ugly duckling. But not conforming to societal beauty standards didn’t cause me any angst; I wasn’t harboring a secret desire to take off my glasses and flip my hair, so my secret love interest would realize I was beautiful all along. In my view, my looks supplied simplicity. Anyone who got with me wanted the real me, no question. Romance ranked dead last on my to-do list at the moment, however.
“You’re too picky,” Max said.
He was curled up on my bedroom floor, skimming emails on his tablet. With her boyfriend’s help, our soon-to-be-ex-roommate, Nadia, was currently carting the last of her belongings downstairs, and the other half of my room was conspicuously empty. I scowled and threw a common cold plushie at his head. He batted it away with impressive reflexes, still scrolling. Since he’d posted flyers around campus, along with his email, Max was handling first contact on the apartment.
“Swap with me. You and Angus can share the master bedroom and then you can put whoever you want next door.”
As expected, he passed with an as-if gesture. “We’ll keep looking. How about this one? ‘Hey, my name is Kara. I’m a physical education major, I work part-time at Kelvin’s and I’m a sophomore. I saw your flyer, and I’d love to meet you guys. My apartment fell through when the landlord sold the place out from under us and now I’m scrambling.’ She seems fine. All the words are even spelled correctly.”
I pretended to mull it over. “Basic language skills are important to me. Put her on the call-back list.”
“You make it sound like we’re casting a movie.”
“This is way more critical,” I reminded him. “This person will be living in my room, potentially watching me sleep.”
“I wish you’d let me help,” Nadia said, coming in to grab the last of her boxes.
Ty, her tall ginger boyfriend, plucked a carton from her arms. His four-year-old son was running around the living room, bothering Angus, who didn’t seem to mind. I waved at both of them but didn’t get up. Truthfully, I was more than a little verklempt over her leaving, even if she was only going downstairs. In the six months since I’d moved in, we’d become good friends. When I moved in, I’d taken over Lauren’s half of the room; she had been Nadia’s best friend from high school, so it wouldn’t have been surprising if Nadia had resented me. Instead she did her best to make me feel at home. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t given us notice that she’d be moving in with Ty. I just hadn’t acted on it because I’d secretly hoped their cohabitation wouldn’t pan out, like maybe she’d realize what a huge step it was to take on someone else’s kid.
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’m the one who procrastinated.”
Max nodded. “If I hadn’t made flyers, Kaufman here would still be waiting for the perfect roommate to drop out of the sky.”
“It could work. A skydiving roomie would be pretty sweet.”
Ty grinned. “I’d be worried about the rent.”
“The man makes a good point.” Max waved as they left, taking the rest of Nadia’s worldly belongings. “Here’s another possible. ‘Saw your ad. About me: Carmen, drama major, junior. I have no annoying habits and an aversion to being homeless. Email me back!’”
“How am I supposed to choose—”
“She attached a picture.” Max handed me the tablet. “I’m inclined to say yes.”
When I saw it, I knew why. Carmen had long silky black hair, golden skin, big brown eyes and an amazing body. While I’d definitely bang her, I didn’t want her living in my room. The possibility for problems boggled the mind.
Shaking my head, I passed the iPad back. “No way.”
“Why not? She’s perfect!”
“She sent a wet T-shirt contest photo, dude. To random strangers. Does that speak highly of her common sense?”
He sighed. “Not really.”
“I don’t want to come home to someone shooting amateur porn in my room.”
“Are you sure? I’m positive that would look great on a résumé.”
“You’re such a weirdo.”
“Guilty.” Max glanced toward the doorway, where Angus had propped himself like a fashion model.
In different ways, my two roommates were both hot as hell. Blond-haired, green-eyed Angus radiated the moneyed GQ vibe; he was always put together, clean-shaven, well-dressed and delicious-smelling. Max, on the other hand, was a dimpled and scruffy, tattooed, motorcycle-riding hooligan. Right then I had the bad boy and the dream boy in my bedroom, pretty much winning the whole hot-guy lottery, but neither was interested in me. Angus had a boyfriend, and Max always had women blowing up his cell phone. But it wasn’t like I was pining; I hadn’t been in a relationship since Amy, and I wasn’t looking, either. Still, for pure eye candy, it didn’t suck to be me.
“House meeting,” Angus said, sauntering over to flop across the foot of my bed. “Any progress on the roommate issue?”
Hunching my shoulders, I wrapped my arms around another plushie microbe, an adorable ovum this time. “I’m working on it.”
“It’s true. She’s rejected four possibles since I came in.”
I cut Max a look. “You’re not helping.”
“But I’ve been reading emails to you for the past ten minutes.”
Ignoring that, I nudged Angus’s thigh with my foot. “Do you know anyone who’s looking? Preferably not a random stranger.”
“Actually, that’s part of the reason why I’m in here.”
When I bounced, his head jogged on my mattress. “Spill it.”
“I’ve been in pre-med with Kia since freshman year. She mentioned she wants to break up with her boyfriend, but she’s been putting it off because it’ll mean moving out. I didn’t say anything because I wanted to talk to you guys first. But—”
“Is she nice?” I cut in at the same time Max asked, “Is she hot?”
Angus smirked. “Yes and yes. I think she’d make you both happy.”
Then he got out his phone, flipping through the gallery until he found a selfie of him with a pretty African-American girl. She had a great smile, bright and friendly, dark skin and short, natural hair. Sometimes the faces people made in photos gave me a vibe about them, and she seemed like she’d be fun.
I took his cell, brought up her contact info and said, “Call her.”
“You mean I made flyers for nothing?” Max grumbled, but I could tell he was glad to have it settled. Maybe.
He got off the floor and wormed his way between Angus and me. Three people on a twin, probably not what the manufacturer intended. “If you break my bed—”
“Shh. It’s ringing.” Angus frowned at us like we were delinquent children. “Kia? It’s me. Do you have a minute?” That sounded like code for Can you talk freely?
The volume was loud enough for me to hear her reply. “Yeah, I can email you the notes.”
“I get it. Call me back when you can.”
“Whoa,” Max said. “Sounds like the boyfriend’s a controlling asshole.”
Angus nodded. “I’ve been telling her to get out for three months.”
“Is he abusive?” The answer wouldn’t change my mind about rooming with her, but we might need to amp up security around here.
“Depends on your definition. In my view, he’s overly invested in where she goes and who she talks to. And he disapproves of me. A lot.”
“Homophobe?” I asked.
“Young Republican, so...probably? He wears a lot of sweater vests, comes from a conservative political family in the Bible Belt.”
“Ah. He’s lousy with privilege,” Max guessed.
Angus’s phone buzzed then and he grabbed it on the first ring, putting it on speaker. “Kia?”
“What’s up?”
“Is Duncan giving you a hard time today?”
“Always.” She sounded tired.
No wonder. Between the last year of pre-med and a demanding boyfriend, she must be sick of the drama. But we needed to speak up before she said something she’d hate revealing to strangers. “Hey, this is Courtney, one of Angus’s roommates.”
“And I’m Max, the other one.”
“Are we on a conference call?” She sounded amused more than annoyed, so that was a decent start.
“I talked to them and if you really want to dump the D-bag, you can move in here. Courtney would be sharing with you. Want to come over, see if it’s a good fit?”
“Yes, please.” Her response was heartfelt.
An hour later, Kia was on our couch, after a quick tour of the apartment and my half-empty room. She was taller than me, thinner, too, no surprise there, but nowhere near as imposing as Nadia. From listening to her conversation with Angus, I already knew I wanted this to happen. If it didn’t work out and we had to call in Physical Education Kelly, I’d be bummed.
“I feel like I need to be up-front about this,” I said.
Max elbowed me. He thought I was going to tell her that I was bi, but there was no reason to lead with that. Frowning at him, I went on, “I’m a touch OC and I might alphabetize your books and/or CDs if you decide to move in.”
She laughed. “Girl, have at it. That’s not my thing, I don’t have time to obsess. But it won’t bother me if you organize. Just don’t move stuff so I can’t find it.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t come home to find all your makeup sorted by brand.”
“Hey, I’d much rather be sharing with somebody who cleans. My boyfriend doesn’t.”
“You mean your ex?” Angus asked hopefully.
“Give me a few days. Is next weekend soon enough?” Kia pushed to her feet with an inquiring look.
“Yep, it’s great.” I fought the urge to hug her, mostly because it was settled.
“Let’s swap numbers.” Angus forwarded her info before she finished speaking and I sent a test text. Her phone pinged again, suggesting Max had done the same.
Kia grinned. “I guess I don’t have to worry about being welcome. Wish me luck.”
“Dump him.” That was my best encouraging tone.
Max walked her to the door. “Agreed. Dump the crap out of him.”
Once the door closed behind her, I grabbed Angus’s hands and whirled him around in a circle. “She’s perfect. Seriously, thank you. You don’t know how relieved I am.”
“Save the victory dance until she moves in. You never know, Duncan could talk her into giving him a second chance. She’s been on the verge of leaving him for like a year.”
I sighed as the satisfaction drained away. “Now you tell me.”
“You worry too much. If need be, we’ll split the rent three ways until we find the right person. I can manage a month of that, and I know Angus can.” Max slung an arm over my shoulder and hauled me to the sofa. “Come on, let’s shoot stuff.”
Angus ruffled my hair and I pretended to swat him. “Hey. Hands off the purple.”
“Can’t help it, it’s all adorable and spiky.”
My mother called my current look a “punk” phase, and she expressed a devout wish for me to get over it every time I saw her. She hoped I’d trade Doc Martens and cargo pants for dresses that sparkled, grow my hair out and get a nose job. That would never, ever happen. Which bummed my mother out; she’d rather I marry a nice Jewish doctor than become one. Of course, that wasn’t on the table, either. Since I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to do, I was studying business, though friends who’d already graduated were telling me I needed to specialize or there was no way in hell I’d find a job.
But the idea of wiping my originality like a dry-erase board for a corporate gig bummed me out. I liked my piercings—at last count I had eight: eyebrow, nose, three in my left ear, two in my right, plus the belly-button ring; I couldn’t remember if my mother had ever seen the latter. Maybe I’d use the money my granddad left me to start my own company, though at this point, I had no idea what product or service I’d offer.
Max bumped me with his shoulder. “Are you playing or not?”
“I’m in.” Picking up the controller, I joined him on-screen, though it pissed me off that in most of these shooters, I always had to play a dude.
“Have fun. I’m out with Del tonight.” The brightness in Angus’s voice told me things were going well, so I just waved as he left, focused on not shooting Max in the back.
We played for an hour before I got hungry. I pushed Pause on the controller and ambled to the kitchen. Max came up behind me, resting his head on my shoulder as I peered into the fridge. Max was exceptionally hands-on with his friends; maybe he didn’t get hugged enough as a kid or something. When I’d first moved in, I thought he was hitting on me, but he thumped and patted Angus about as much, so I went with it.
“Cook something,” he pleaded.
I jabbed him in the gut with my elbow. “Get off me and maybe I will. How do patty melts sound?”
“Like manna from heaven. I speak for all starving college students everywhere when I say, words cannot do justice to your munificence.”
Snickering, I put the ground beef in the microwave. “Calm down, I already agreed to make the food. No need for sweet talk.”
“But it’s fun. Your nose wrinkles when you laugh at me.”
I fought the urge to cover said nose. Some girls could do adorable bunny wriggles, but mine was too long—beakish, according to an ex who’d had enough of my shit. As personal problems went, however, it wasn’t exactly original. There were tons of other Jewish girls in the same situation; I wasn’t special. In fact, I probably wasn’t even the only princess rebelling with piercings and alt-hair. So I made a face instead of revealing that he’d made me feel self-conscious for a few seconds. On two occasions, Max and I had made out. Both times, we were messed up emotionally and it was good that we’d confined the rebound sex to kissing. Otherwise it might be tough to fry meat while he talked about the work he was doing on his motorcycle.
“Wait, I thought you were done?”
He sighed at me. “The mechanical overhaul is done, but now I’m working on cosmetic restoration. I can’t stop until it’s finished.”
“The fate of the world hangs in the balance?” I teased, shaping the thawed meat into patties. Next I sliced up some onions to caramelize.
“I promised somebody, that’s all.” His expression was strange and serious, unlike the guy I’d known for three years.
But Max was...odd. Like, he gave the impression he was all jokes, all about the party, but then he flipped a switch and revealed a glimpse of the real person underneath. In all honesty, I was much more interested in that guy—the serious, smart, intense one. Most people had no idea he was a mechanical engineering major, which required knowledge of physics, thermodynamics, kinematics, structural analysis and electricity. And hell, I only knew that because I looked it up on Wikipedia after finding out what he was studying.
“That sounds like a story,” I said quietly.
He held my gaze for two beats, then looked away. “I guess it is.”
Message received.
I finished our food and we ate in front of the TV, then went back to killing things in the game. But by nine, I was bored. I put down the controller, stretching my stiff muscles in an exaggerated arch of my back. “Okay, I’m done.”
“Don’t go,” he said.
“Huh?” Startled, I swung back toward the couch, catching a bleak, sad look in his dark, dark eyes.
It was like realizing a friend had been hiding raw slashes under their sleeves all this time. His thick lashes swept down, covering the expression, but it was too late. I can’t unsee it. My chest felt tight with indecision. If I made a joke, he’d take his cue from me, and it would be like this never happened. Maybe that would be for the best.
“I don’t want to play anymore,” I answered.
“We could go for a ride.”
To me, it seemed like Max didn’t want to be alone tonight. He rode his bike when he was running from something, but he’d never invited me along. There was no excuse to refuse since classes hadn’t started up again. I made a snap decision.
“Okay, let me get a jacket.” My pants and concert T-shirt were fine, so I added boots and a hoodie with a skull on the back.
“That was fast.” He jiggled his keys with one hand and grabbed me with the other, yanking me out of the apartment and down the stairs. As we approached his bike, he asked, “Have you ever ridden one of these before?”
“What do you think?” I was curious what he’d say.
“Probably...yes.”
“You are correct, sir. Don’t worry, it’s not my first time.”
“If you knew how happy it makes me to hear that.” He flashed a flirty grin over one shoulder, but I identified it as bullshit.
The wounded eyes? Those were real. Not this. So I put on the helmet and wrapped my arms around his waist, content to be the warm body on the back of his bike. I didn’t need to be beautiful to be a friend when he needed one.
Just for a few seconds, he set his hands over mine, where they rested on his abs. “Hold on tight. I’m about to show you something amazing.”
CHAPTER TWO
“Where the hell are we going?” I yelled.
Max didn’t answer, but he turned off the highway, so the going got much rougher, and I tightened my arms around his waist. We bounced along for another mile, following the natural curve of the road. Before I saw the rapids, I heard the rush of the river, audible as the motorcycle dropped to lower idle. He parked the bike and I swung off, unnerved by the complete darkness. Without speaking, he led me through a tangle of branches.
“If you want to freak me out, it’s working.”
“Trust me.” His fingers folded around mine, and I clutched tight.
∆Out here there was only the fast-moving water, the wind through the leaves and the chirp of insects. When we emerged from the trees, my breath caught. The sky opened up before me in an endless stream of stars with the river cascading below, tumbling over the rocks in a burst of white foam. Moonlight shimmered on the water, a fairy trail luring men to their doom, if you believed in old legends.
“Wow. How did you find this place?”
“I drive around at night...a lot.” He wore a contemplative look as he added, “‘It is Earth’s eye—looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature.’”
“Did you seriously just quote Thoreau?” I didn’t mean to sound so surprised since I knew as well as anyone that Max was smarter than he let on.
“Are you judging a book by its cover?”
“Sorry, reflex. Please continue astounding me with your big brain.”
“No, now you went and made me self-conscious. But just look... It’s amazing, right?”
I nodded. “Just like you promised.”
“Come out, just a little farther.” He led me onto a rise overlooking the river. “I sleep out here sometimes.”
“Nadia’s convinced you’re hooking up or crashing at the garage when you don’t come home.” It was weird saying that to a guy, like we were family or something, but sometimes it actually felt as if we were.
“The garage office reeks of oil and sweaty ass.”
“I can see why you’d prefer it here, though I’d probably wet my pants the first time an owl hooted. Is that a thing?”
“Yes, there are owls here, city girl.”
“Hey, I was born in Chicago, and my mother is opposed to camping on principle. ‘Our people have wandered the wilderness long enough and from now on, we sleep in warm beds.’”
“She sounds opinionated.”
“You have no idea.”
“Sit down. Unless you’re scared.”
“No, I’m okay.” Though I wasn’t quite sure why he’d brought me out here, I couldn’t deny that it was beautiful. I plopped down beside him, crossing my legs in a crooked Lotus pose.
Max let out a shaky breath, staring out at the river. He was careful not to look at me. “I got a call from my dad today.”
From what I knew of Max—not a whole lot, granted, as he didn’t talk much about his past—that was a huge deal. In the three years we’d been hanging out, he’d never mentioned his family. “Yeah?”
“My grandfather died.” His tone gave me no clue how to react, and the shadows were too deep for me to read his expression.
“Okay, so is this a ‘wow, I’m so sorry’ moment, or more ‘thank God the old bastard’s finally gone’? Give me something here, Max.”
He sat in silence for a few moments. “Little from column A, little from column B. See, I come from a long line of violent assholes. Good drinkers, too, proud, easily offended, even though none of us have ever amounted to shit.”
“Looks to me like that streak ends with you.” I put my hand on his where it rested on his knee, and he leaned toward me. Not going for a kiss but to rest his head on my shoulder.
“You always know what to say.” His voice was softer, warmed by my smooth talk.
“So what’re you doing about the funeral? Do you want me to help you pick out a floral arrangement or something?”
“No, that’s the thing. I brought you out here, hoping the incredible scenery would make you willing to do me a favor.”
“What’s that?” He had no pets and no classes yet that I could audit for him and take notes. So I was drawing a blank as to what Max could possibly need from me.
“I was hoping you’d come home with me. To Providence.”
“What? Why?” Those were the first of many questions to sputter out of me.
“I haven’t been back since I went away to school, and I can’t be alone with my dad, not even for a minute. It...won’t be good.”
I submerged the impulse to ask, Isn’t there anyone else? Because I knew the answer already, and I wouldn’t force-feed him that vulnerability on top of the shit sandwich life had already forced him to sample. But I couldn’t just pack a bag and ride off without some basic fact-finding. “How long will we be gone?”
“It’s a twelve-hour drive, but we’ll take regular breaks since you aren’t used to a long haul on the bike. I’m guessing five days, including travel.”
“Wait, we’re taking the motorcycle all the way to Rhode Island?”
As he turned his head, the moon popped out from behind a cloud, illuminating his smile. “You said we. So I guess so.”
“If I’m crazy enough to do this, you owe me some insider info on why.”
“Why?”
“You know what I’m asking. Why can’t you be polite long enough to put your grandfather in the ground? Or whatever you shegetz boys do.” I spoke the last sentence in a teasing tone.
Max got out his phone and turned it on, bright enough to startle me, then he pushed back the tumble of black hair, revealing a thin white scar. The screen flickered off, leaving me with the impression of his tan skin, dark eyes and the mark in sharp contrast. “I got that from my dad when I was eleven. Beer bottle. He chucked it, I didn’t duck in time.”
“Damn.”
“It’s not the only childhood souvenir.” He shrugged like it didn’t matter. “But that’s not why I can’t forgive him.”
“What happened?”
“Right now, I need an answer. Will you come?”
Angus and I didn’t have jobs, unlike Max and Nadia. Even if they disapproved of me, my parents still sent a regular allowance and paid my tuition. So there was no reason I couldn’t go to Providence with him; I just wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Some intuitive part of my brain sensed that it would change everything.
“Okay,” I said.
“Thanks so much, Kaufman. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“Because you don’t want to miss the services?”
Max shook his head. “My brother will be there.”
Before I could ask, he pushed to his feet, dusted off his ass and offered his hand. I took it and let him tow me upright. We retraced our steps back to the bike as I pondered how bad this was likely to be. My family might not be perfect, but nothing like this; it was only a matter of me refusing to conform to expectations, and my mother’s weapon of choice was guilt. He swung onto the motorcycle and I got on after him, troubled for reasons I couldn’t articulate.
The ride back to the apartment felt faster, probably because I knew where we were going. Angus still wasn’t home, so I just nodded a good-night to Max and headed to my huge, half-empty room. He surprised me by following, pausing in the doorway as if waiting for an invite.
“You can come in,” I said.
“I wasn’t sure. But I just wanted to tell you to be ready by seven.”
“Oh, my God. It’s already midnight. Go to bed, Max.” After setting my alarm, I got ready, packed a backpack and followed my own advice.
In the morning, Max tapped on my door as I was lacing up my boots. I’d packed a black dress and some flats, along with clean panties and a few spare T-shirts. The cargo pants would have to last until we got back. Fortunately, riding on the back of his bike wouldn’t even faze my hair, no need for curling iron or straightener. That made it easier to travel light.
“Ready?” he asked as I stepped out.
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
“Thanks.”
“You said that last night.”
“I want to be sure it comes across. There’s no way I could go back by myself.”
A small, curious part of me noticed that he didn’t say home but it seemed like the wrong time to dig into his motivations. Pausing in the kitchen, I rearranged the fridge magnets to read: Gone. Back Later. I’d text Angus at a more respectable hour and explain the situation, assuming this wasn’t top secret for reasons unknown to me.
“We can’t do this in one day,” Max said as he stuffed our bags in the top box. “Or you’ll be too sore to move afterward.”
“Promises, promises.” It was the sort of joke I always made, expecting him to goof back with me.
Max paused, frowning. “I don’t think that’s hot. Or funny.”
“Huh?”
“Fucking a woman so hard it hurts her. The idea makes me sick, actually.” That was more sincerity than I generally got from Max in a week, but it was too early for me to parse.
“There’s a difference between being pleasantly tender, the result of good, rough sex, and crawling away from the bedroom all bruised and bloody.”
“I know, sorry. That’s just...one of my hot buttons.”
Pausing, I wondered about that story, but it wasn’t the time to ask. “No problem. Shall we roll out?”
The weather was perfect for taking to the open road, sunny sky in summer blue, not a cloud in sight. After two hours on the bike, I understood what he meant, though. It wasn’t like riding in a car; my arms were tired from holding on to him and my ass was numb, both from the pavement and the vibrations. Just past ten in the morning, he pulled off at a rest plaza in Ohio. The place was huge, almost like an auto-mall, plenty of parking, three fast food places, picnic tables, a strip of green for pets. I stumbled as I swung my leg over, and it hurt when I straightened my back; I had been leaning forward, pressed against Max for too long.
“Sorry. I should’ve stopped sooner. You hungry?”
“Yeah. I didn’t have anything before we took off.”
“Me, either.”
“I need the bathroom first, so I’ll meet you in the food court.”
I used the facilities, washed my hands and stopped, drawn by my reflection. Mirrors were too honest, showing me a woman with a sharp nose and deep-set eyes. I used the purple hair to distract from my face, like a male bird strutting his colorful plumage. My body wasn’t bad, though I carried extra weight in trunk and saddlebag. I’d long since come to terms with the fact that I didn’t attract looks from across a crowded room. In fact, I was pretty used to being the grenade a wingman would fall on in order to give his buddy a shot at my hot friend.
But on a global scale, problems like that were minuscule, and I was smiling when I found Max waiting with my favorite breakfast sandwich. Pretending to check it over, I sat down across the table from him. “Hmm. Bacon. Egg. Cheese. This passes inspection.”
“Glad to hear it. I didn’t know if you wanted coffee or juice so I got both.”
“Then I’ll drink both. How’re you holding up?”
“You make me sound decrepit. We haven’t been riding that long.”
Dropping my voice, I leaned forward, as if I was about to whisper a dirty secret. Max met me halfway. “I meant emotionally.”
“Oh. Then I’m wrecked.” The flat tone belied the truth I glimpsed in his eyes. “I don’t even know if my brother will talk to me.”
“What happened?”
“You want my sad life story in a travel plaza?”
Put that way, it sounded wrong, but I couldn’t deny my curiosity. So I ate my breakfast sandwich and followed him back outside, where I stretched for, like, five minutes. Max did the same, then we continued the trip. Though he was considerate and stopped every two hours so I could move around, by the time we hit the middle of Pennsylvania I was ready to call it quits. I’d have paid big money for a hot tub, but we stopped at an interstate motel, no Jacuzzis to be had, and I’d rather eat a bug than risk a yeast infection by soaking in a strange bathtub.
Max offered to spring for my room, but it seemed stupid for him to pay double. “Just get one with two beds. It’s not a big deal.”
“Thanks. I’m doing this on a shoestring budget.”
I could’ve told him that I had plenty of money and a decent limit on my plastic, but I suspected he’d be offended. It was a point of pride for Max to pay my way since he’d asked me along for reasons I didn’t entirely understand. Arms crossed, I waited by the motorcycle while he went into the office, and when he came out, he had the room keys.
“Come on, we’re around back.”
Climbing on the bike made me wince, so I could only imagine how I’d feel tomorrow. Worth it for a friend, I told myself. Max parked and handed me the keycards.
“Go on up, I’ll bring dinner. Are you in the mood for anything in particular?”
I shook my head. “Get my backpack? I’ll shower while you’re gone.”
“Good idea.”
“Some women might find that offensive, Cooper.”
“You know what I mean.”
Grinning, I took my bag and jogged stiffly up the rusted external steps. This place was a step down from a Red Roof Inn, and the room was about as depressing as I expected: dated decor in overly bright hues with hutch, tiny dining set and grubby, striped arm chair. But at least there was a coffeepot and a relatively new TV. Usually the smell gave away the worst places, and this only gave off a musty scent, like a room that had been closed up too long. The windows didn’t open so I turned on the air conditioner, which banged to the point that I imagined tiny gnomes inside the radiator with wee hammers. The added ventilation helped, though, and I got my pajamas, then went into the bathroom.
Water pressure was decent, and I took my time scrubbing off the road dust. By the time I came out, drying my hair on a scratchy towel, Max had pizza and beer waiting at the chipped table. He’d seen my pj’s countless times before, so he didn’t blink as I came over to get a slice of extra cheese, extra mushrooms and peppers.
“No meat?” I asked.
“Seems safer this way since we’re traveling tomorrow.”
I grinned. “Your forethought is both impressive and disturbing.”
The pizza wasn’t bad for a random dive, certainly not the worst, though it didn’t compare to the deep-dish Chicago-style I’d grown up on. After dinner, I propped up on my bed and checked my phone for the first time all day. I had a text from Angus and two from my mother. Angus had just replied with Finally eloped with Max, huh? Name your firstborn after me. Boy, girl or other, doesn’t matter. Make good choices! Sighing, I read the maternal messages next.
Ma, text one: Why aren’t you picking up?
Ma, text two: Where are you? I tried the house phone. Are you avoiding me?
Yes. That’s the only reason I wouldn’t answer.
She hadn’t wanted me to move out of the dorms until I told her my roommate was into illegal drugs. Then she’d supported the apartment idea wholeheartedly. Since she regarded spontaneity as her nemesis, she’d be pissed about this trip. I could hear her already: Vacations should be planned, Courtney. You can’t just take off this way.
I typed back, I’m hanging out with a friend. What’s up? That was sort of true, right?
“Everything okay?”
“Hmm?”
“You look pissed.”
“It’s just my mother, trying to track my movements. I’m surprised she hasn’t chipped me like a Chihuahua. Though if she has, you’ll probably be arrested for kidnapping.” I smirked, rubbing the back of my neck as if searching for parental hardware.
He paused with a slice halfway to his mouth. “You know, that sounds like it sucks, but I also wonder what it would be like to have a parent so...invested.”
“Your mother’s not around?”
“She died when I was five, having my brother. Amniotic fluid embolism. I was fourteen before I even knew what that meant.”
I still don’t. Mentally I made a note to look it up on Google ASAP. “So your brother’s sixteen? What’s his name?”
Max nodded. “Michael, but everyone calls him Mickey. Or...they did. I haven’t seen him since my dad kicked me out.”
“Wait, what?” I figured he’d just put up with a shitty home life until he got accepted at Mount Albion, and then he was all Sayonara, suckers.
“Yeah. I’ve been on my own since I was sixteen.”
“Did things get worse with your dad?” I asked.
“You could say that,” Max said quietly. “That was when I put my brother in a wheelchair for life.”
CHAPTER THREE
So many questions ricocheted around my brain, but Max’s shoulders were pulled up almost to his ears, his chin nearly on the table. Without looking at me, he shredded the napkin in his hands into four pieces and then in half again. The waning sunshine streaming in the smeared window behind him haloed his dark hair, so that the highlights shone blue instead of tawny or copper.
“You don’t have to tell me a bedtime story,” I said gently.
“No, you need to know. So you understand what’s going on and why it’s so tense when we get there.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“I’ll set the stage.” His tone was brittle, uneven, and the bits of paper in his hands kept getting smaller. “I was sixteen, just got my license. My dad was drinking, acting like a fuckhead. Business as usual. When he started in on Mickey, I grabbed the keys. Figured I’d get us both out of there for a while. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but taking off is kind of my specialty.”
“Between your bike, the garage office and the place you showed me by the river, I’ve picked up on the pattern, yeah.”
“I thought I was doing the smart thing, you know? But I was driving too fast and some asshole blew the stoplight. T-boned us. Mickey got the worst of it...weeks in the hospital without knowing if he’d make it. Then, once he stabilized, we found out he’d never walk again.” He curled a fist and slammed it onto the table, making the pizza box dance. “Ironic, huh? I was worried that my dad would hurt Mickey but I’m the one who—”
“Not true,” I cut in. “That’s a textbook accident. Don’t tell me you blame yourself.”
“It’s impossible to do anything else. No, wipe that look off your face, Kaufman. I didn’t open up to make you feel sorry for me. I just want you to know the deal going in. I mean, my dad’s the biggest asshole I ever met and he hates me, too.”
“What about Mickey?”
“We weren’t talking much when I left. Every day I think, what if I’d put up with my old man’s shit for five minutes more? What if I’d picked a fight with him instead of grabbing those keys? I—” His voice broke on a shuddering inhalation.
Until this moment I hadn’t realized how much weight Max carried on a daily basis or how good a job he did hiding it. I came out of my chair and rounded the little table before I consciously decided to make a move. Standing beside him, I hovered, unsure what to do. He answered the question by wrapping both arms around my waist and pulling me onto his lap. Unsettled—unnerved, even—I let him press his face into my shoulder, resting a hand on his head.
His breath warmed the skin of my throat, rousing an inappropriate shiver. Now is not the time. It wasn’t like I’d never noticed his hotness; he specialized in a scruffy, soulful appeal that women of all ages seemed unable to resist. But it was so much better for him to call me Kaufman and confide in me instead of flirting. At the moment, Max needed a friend. I stroked his back for like five minutes before he raised his gaze to meet mine.
“Sorry. The closer we get to Rhode Island, the worse I feel.”
“It’s understandable. You have to be worried about how your brother will react when you see him.” The rest of his family sounded like jackwagons. Though he’d only told me about his dad, if he had any decent aunts, uncles or cousins, they would’ve stepped up when his old man went upside his head with a bottle. A scar like that would take eight or ten stitches, minimum. I imagined Max as a scared kid with blood gushing from his scalp, and all of my protective instincts roared to life. People had been calling me a bitch since I was fifteen, and I was ready to wade in against Max’s family. Yeah, the funeral might be tense and shitty, but if his family said one fucking word—
“You’re looking especially fierce.” Max was smiling slightly, his head cocked in apparent fascination.
It was interesting that my expression could distract him. “Just contemplating all the ways I can kick ass and take names.” With a last twirl of fingers in his hair, I slid off his lap. “Your leg must be asleep, huh?”
Max was on the lean side, and I suspected I weighed as much as he did, possibly more. In his case, the weight was also stretched along eight additional inches. But he just shrugged and shook his head. If I wasn’t mistaken, a touch of color also burned high on his cheekbones. Wow, never thought I’d see him blush.
Clearing my throat, I moved away, taking my half-eaten slice of pizza to the bed I’d dumped my backpack on. I bounced onto it, completely casual, as if we hadn’t just been sharing deep emotional stuff. Max silently threw away the napkin he’d shredded and went into the bathroom. The shower switched on, resulting in an awesome banging of pipes. I pictured them breaking through the wall and flooding the floor. By the time he came back barefoot, wearing a ratty T-shirt and sweats, I had the TV on, watching a bad action movie.
“Oh, this. I’ve seen it eight times.” His offhand tone told me we were good.
“Then line it up for number nine.”
“Hey, Kaufman...”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
“Stop. Your boundless gratitude is freaking me out.”
“Okay. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. So obviously I’ll proposition you instead, get us back on familiar footing.”
I grinned, wadding up a piece of paper from the pad next to me and chucking it at him. “I’m not making out with you.”
“Does that mean sex without kissing is off the table?”
“Definitely. So far off, it’s out the door, chained up in the backyard.”
He let out a mock-wistful sigh. “Poor coitus. What did it ever do to you?”
“It was the best of sex, it was the worst of sex...”
Max laughed, and it felt fairly glorious to bring him to this point so soon, relatively speaking, after he’d told me about the accident. “Are you butchering Dickens in a subtextual pun or am I reaching?”
“That depends,” I said.
“On what?”
“If you thought it was funny.”
“Definitely.” He shot me the lazy grin that crinkled his eyes and displayed a dimple.
Okay, stop being adorable, Max. It’s bothersome.
“Then it was definitely on purpose. But why do you recognize a misquote of A Tale of Two Cities, science-engineering person?”
“I read.”
“Dickens? Really? I disbelieve.” I pretended to roll some dice. “Natural twenty! Now tell me the truth or I’ll resort to drastic measures.”
“Okay, Dickens was compulsory. It’s not on my summer fun list.”
“And what is?” I couldn’t remember if I’d ever seen him with a book, but he did fiddle with phone and tablet a lot, so he might be reading that way. “Fictionwise, I mean.”
“Oh, and here I planned to share all the freaky places I did it in August.”
“Max.” I infused his name with a warning tone, so that I sounded uncannily like the rabbi’s wife, back when I still went to synagogue.
“Fine. My favorite genre is horror, but I also like sci-fi, fresh and edgy stuff, not boring white guys saving the universe and banging space hotties.”
Surprise popped up like a weasel. Great, now I had that kids’ song stuck in my head. “Wait. You read mostly genre fiction? Max Cooper. You’re a secret geek.”
“Don’t tell anyone, ’kay? Not that they’d believe you.” He flipped up his shirt to reveal tasty abs. Not mega ripped but taut and fine with delicious V-lines revealed by loose sweats. “I mean, just look at this package.”
Fortunately, my brain had never let me down, no matter how much sexy, muscled, yummy tan bod was on display. “If you have to ask a girl to inspect your package, you work for UPS or you’re trying too hard, bro.”
He smirked. “I don’t like how you call yourself a girl. It’s demeaning.”
“Hey, I’m allowed to say it. Dudes aren’t.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.”
We stopped talking after that, but the silence didn’t thrum with badness. Max seemed as okay as he could be, considering he was on his way to bury his grandfather and see his brother for the first time in five years. And that didn’t take into account his asshole dad or the extended family, who might make his life hell for the next two days. Though we had another long day of riding ahead of us, I was looking forward to sitting behind him on the bike more than our arrival. The shit might really hit the fan then.
Before ten, I passed out on top of the covers and didn’t know anything until a pained sound roused me, however many hours later. Shoving up on an elbow, I glanced around in confusion. This isn’t my room, that isn’t Nadia... What—oh. Max. He writhed in the bed next to mine, an arm lashing at the mattress, and he was bathed in sweat.
That’s definitely a bad dream.
This was so far outside my jurisdiction—then again, maybe not. He’d invited me along, knowing we’d be in close quarters for the duration of the trip. So possibly he’d foreseen this development and didn’t entirely mind? Whatever. When he snarled an unintelligible curse, I rolled out of bed and crossed to his, perching on the edge.
“Max. Wake up. You’re bothering me.” That was the first thing that popped into my head, but it didn’t rouse him.
“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no.”
The pure anguish in his voice told me he was reliving the accident. There was no way to know if talking about it summoned the dream or if this happened fairly often. For as much as we hung out at home, I’d never slept in the same room with him. Sucking in a breath, I rested my hand on his head, brushing the damp strands away from his brow. With the light from the sign outside illuminating his face, I saw a tear trickle from the corner of his eye, something I never imagined, ever.
Fuck me. Max cries in his sleep.
My heart twisted in my chest, and I couldn’t stop myself from leaning down, touching my forehead to his. That was enough to rouse him, thank God. He blinked up at me blearily, his hands unclenching. “You okay?”
“Bad dream. Scoot over.” Since he wasn’t even fully awake, he mumbled as he did. I fell asleep with my back against his.
Hours later, I stirred in increments, then snapped alert when I realized Max was spooning me. His arm was strong and warm across my waist, hips snug against my ass, and I felt each slow breath into my hair. Well, crap. No good deed, and so on. It seemed unlikely that I could get away without disturbing him. The bedside clock read 5:45 a.m., so it was still mostly dark. As I shifted, he tightened his hold and nuzzled my neck. Obviously, it felt incredible, but it had been eight months. These days it didn’t take much to turn me on. But I wasn’t a shy virgin trembling with fear that he’d ravish me. So I lifted his arm and crawled out of bed. Max was rubbing his eyes when I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get dressed.
“Okay, did I imagine—”
“Nothing happened.” I wasn’t about to tell him that he was crying in his sleep so I figured I better go on the offensive. “My bed had janky springs, that’s all.”
“Uh-huh. Anyone ever tell you your hair smells like lemons?”
“That’s the top-notch motel shampoo.”
“Couldn’t resist me, huh? This always happens, sooner or later. Should we just do it already, defuse the sexual tension?”
“As if. You were on my side of the bed. There are Russian hitmen who would pay big money to spoon this.” I slapped my ass with a teasing grin and yanked the covers off him. “Come on, get up.”
He immediately grabbed a pillow, going for basic crotch camo. “Are you kidding?”
“Oh. You already are. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I have to pee,” he mumbled.
“Take your time. If you need me to step out, so you can—”
“So help me, Kaufman, if you don’t stop talking, right now, I’ll make you.”
Smirking, I did a taunting little dance, hip swivel and half turn. “Sure you will. What, you gonna kiss me? Now, that’s original. Besides, I’m way too good at it, remember? Pretty soon you’ll be dry humping me and then come all over yourself. Let’s not go down that road.”
He scrubbed a palm across his face. “It’s too early for this.”
“Exactly my point.”
Max slammed the bathroom door after stomping past me. He was in there long enough with the water running for me to consider teasing him, but honestly, what a guy did in the shower stall of a crappy motel bathroom was between him and the tiny soap. So I didn’t say anything as we packed up and headed out to the bike. But I was thinking about it, wondering a little, when I swung on behind him and nestled close.
I could get used to this.
Of course, introducing my mother to Max might trigger the coronary she was always threatening to have, whenever I did something worthy of parental disapproval. Which was pretty much my entire life to date. She claimed she was in danger of a stroke when I came out as bisexual. In fact, my dad argued with me on the subject; he said that wasn’t even a thing and that I probably just wasn’t ready to admit I was gay yet—not that he wanted me to. So if I could just go quietly back into the closet and confine my sexual identity questions to watching interesting internet porn, that would be great. He didn’t say that, of course, but over the years, I’d gotten great at reading between the lines. Conversations with my family were pretty much always frustrating for various reasons.
“You good to go?” Max asked, starting the engine.
“Yep, let’s do this.”
Like the previous day, we rode in two-hour increments, stopping to rest so my muscles didn’t lock up. Max grew progressively tenser the closer we got to Rhode Island, and when we crossed the state line, his back felt like a brick beneath my cheek. Since I could only touch his abs, it seemed weird to rub his belly as if he was a spaniel and I was trying to make his back leg kick. As we rolled into Providence, he pulled into a gas station parking lot. The area didn’t look awesome, but I didn’t protest. I figured he needed a minute. Max disappeared inside for over ten minutes, and when he came out, he had on dress slacks, a wrinkled button-up and the ugliest tie I’d ever seen in my life.
“The wake’s already started,” he said.
“Then I should go change.” I hadn’t realized we were going straight to the funeral home.
Without another word, I took my backpack and did my best to look respectable in my black dress and ballet flats. Short of dyeing my hair and removing all my piercings, I figured I’d done the best I could, then I had to get back on the bike in a skirt. I hadn’t thought of that when I was packing. There was no way to ride sidesaddle, so I tucked the fabric.
Max took off, gunning the throttle, and I could practically sense his tension. Fifteen minutes later, we stopped outside a run-down-looking funeral parlor called Cavanaugh and Sons. The building had clearly seen better days, pitted with wind and rain, and grass grew up through cracks in the sidewalk. Most of the businesses nearby had bars across the windows; the rest were vacant buildings.
“It’s worse than I remembered,” he said, pulling off his helmet.
Max took a couple of deep breaths, and I put my hand over his heart, feeling the way it raced at the idea of facing his family. As I stared up at him, his gaze locked on my face. I metered my breathing to his, willing him to calm down. You can’t start this way. It’ll go up in flames sooner rather than later.
“Whatever happens in there, I’m on your side. You know that, right?”
“My dad would punch me in the face for bringing you to fight my battles.”
“He sounds like a catch. Has he remarried? I’m thinking I might have a shot.”
“Don’t even joke,” he snapped.
“Sorry. The more nervous I get, the closer I come to doing standup. You should’ve been at my bat mitzvah.”
“Did you wear a frilly dress?”
“And combat boots.”
Smiling, Max pulled my hand off his chest and pressed it to his cheek for one beat, two. “You make me feel like this might be okay. Somehow. Come on. Let’s go meet the family.”
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