Faking It (Losing It, #2)

Max hugged her mother, probably the first hug she’d initiated in a decade, and Mrs. Miller burst into a second round of sobs.

It wouldn’t be easy. Max was too hurt and her parents too upset for a cry session to fix everything, but it was the beginning, and that’s all we can ask for in life—for a beginning to follow every end.

Max’s father came home, and after close to an hour of the three of them talking and crying, Max looked like she needed a break.

“Why don’t we go get you a dress for that gala?” I asked. “It’s tomorrow, right? I bet the mall is open for a couple more hours still.”

Mrs. Miller looked distressed at the mention of something as mundane as the mall, but she said, “They’re open late for last-minute holiday shopping, I think. But we don’t have to go to the gala, dear.”

“Of course we do,” Max said. “You’ve put a lot of work into this.”

Her mom smiled, and I could almost see the broken thread between them being repaired. A thread was a long way from a bridge, but it was something.

Her mother tried to give Max her credit card to pay for the clothing.

“No, Mom. It’s okay, I’ll find something.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I know you hate these things and are only doing it for me. So, let me pay. And get Cade something, too. Bethany was talking about putting him in one of Michael’s old suits that’s still in his closet. I’m sure he’d rather not look like he’s going to the junior prom.”

Max took the credit card but made quite clear to everyone (especially Bethany, who was eavesdropping from the dining room) that she was buying something cheap. Nothing fancy.

As it turned out though, even Max couldn’t stomach the dresses she found at the department store, and we wound up at a vintage shop a few blocks away. The owner was getting ready to close when we walked in, but she offered to stay open a little bit longer. Holiday spirit and all that. Max looked like she was in heaven.

I found a suit pretty quickly—gray with a really subtle red plaid. It came with suspenders, which Max approved of. She hooked her hands around them, and used them to pull my mouth down to hers.

I decided I was going to have to kiss her every half hour just to continue reminding myself that it was real.

Max tried on a few things—like a yellow beaded number that ended in the middle of her thighs that made me want to follow her into the dressing room. She tried on another that was dark green and cut high on her neck, covering her tree tattoo.

“That’s gorgeous,” I said. “But don’t you dare pick that one.”

“You don’t think I should cover them?”

I backed her into her dressing room and closed the door.

“I don’t think you should ever cover yourself.”

She smiled and laid a hand on my chest. “Thanks.”

“I mean it, I think you should just be naked all the time.”

She laughed. “Oh, is that what you think?”

“Yes, I’ve put a lot of thought into it.”

“I bet you have.”

She reached up and curved a hand around the back of my neck. I took that as permission enough and pressed her into the mirror.

Her nails bit into my neck, and I groaned.

“Shh! You’re going to get us into trouble.”

“The best kind of trouble.”

I marked a path from her mouth, across her jaw, and down her neck. Her head tilted back against the mirror, and she whimpered. The sound shot straight through me, and I strangled a groan in response.

“Somehow, I don’t think this is what the owner had in mind when she offered to stay open a little longer for us.”

I found a spot at the base of her neck just above her collarbone that made her say, “Oh God.” I concentrated my efforts there, and she wrapped both hands around my neck like she was going to fall. Her breath came in heavy pants, and mine wasn’t much better. I’d not meant for it to go this far, but touching her had a way of derailing my best intentions. I started to kiss lower, but the high neckline of her dress limited my travels.

I groaned, “This dress is definitely not the one.”

She gave a shaky breath, and pushed me away.

After that, I wasn’t allowed in her dressing room. She didn’t even let me see the final dress. She made me return to the car because she wanted it to be a surprise, and because she felt guilty about taking too long.

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