“Don’t,” she managed, her voice surprisingly firm. “I have a gun. I have a gu—”
“It’s me.” Grace’s heart nearly collapsed in her chest, as the door opened and Max appeared, sopping wet, her key hider in his open palm. “Don’t shoot.”
“Jesus Christ!” Grace yelled, kneeling up quickly and pelting him with one, two, three of her scatter cushions, launching them across the room, hitting him square in the face with the first. “You scared me to death! What the hell were you thinking?”
He held his arms up to block any more potential missiles. “I was thinking I needed to talk to you.”
“At two a.m.?”
“Yeah, at fucking two a.m. I couldn’t sleep.” His tone was sharp, the remnants of whatever had him so out of shape still clutching every word. He stood up straight, when the last cushion hit the floor, staring hard at her. Ordinarily, Grace would have shrunk back at his attempts at intimidation, but the adrenaline had kicked in, and she wasn’t backing down.
She looked him up and down, noticing that the running shoes and his sweatpants up to the knee were drenched and caked in mud.
“You ran here?” she exclaimed, glancing toward the window.
“Yeah, so?” he retorted defensively. “I think better when I run.”
Yeah, Grace knew that. He’d told her so before. “So.” She gestured toward him with a wave of her hand. “Are you here to tell me what the hell is wrong with you and why you acted like such an ass today?”
Max inhaled through his nose, his large shoulders lifting. Grace noticed he did this when he was trying to rein in his temper. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered toward his shoes.
“I am?” Grace countered loudly. “You’re the one who slammed the door in my face.”
Max’s head snapped up, surprise flickering over his features before he quickly schooled them. “Look, I came here to say what I needed to say and then I’m out of here, all right?”
Grace crossed her arms over her chest, still kneeling in the center of her bed. “Fine.”
He pointed toward the floor between them, rainwater falling to the carpet. “I know I’m an asshole, okay, and I know us sleeping together was never going to be straightforward. I get that. But, whatever. I decided I’d be exclusive to you because that’s what you deserved.” His voice dropped in volume. “I know I never asked for you to do the same because, one, I didn’t expect you’d be flashing your shit to anyone else and two, it ain’t got nothing to do with me.” His rising anger caused his Brooklyn twang to grow stronger. “But I didn’t expect you to treat me like a fucking fool. I ain’t one and I don’t deserve that.”
“Max.” Grace breathed deeply in an effort to calm herself. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He stepped back, looking toward his feet. “I saw you, Grace.” He lifted his head and for the first time, Grace detected hurt. “I saw you with him.” He licked his lips and glanced toward the ceiling, pressing his lips together. “I saw you laughing . . . he touched you and you were both in here— Look, whatever, it’s fine.” He ran his hands through his wet hair and mumbled something toward the wall. “I would have rather you just told me before fucking around with that prick.”
Grace regarded him carefully as all the pieces started to fall into place. There was only one person she knew who got Max as riled as this, one person he referred to with such aggression.
“You saw me with Caleb.”
He coughed a noise that was no doubt a curse, despite the wounded glint she caught in his gaze. “Bingo.”
Grace unfolded her arms, her body heavy with fatigue and disappointment. “You saw me with Caleb,” she repeated. “And you think what? That I slept with him?” He didn’t answer except to cock an eyebrow, the challenge clear. Her heart squeezed. She dropped her chin to her chest and tried to gather herself. “You know what, Max? You’re right.” She looked back at him. “You are an asshole.”
Max’s head moved back as though he’d been slapped. “Say what, now?”
Grace shook her head and drew back the sheet so she could climb under. “Please lock the door when you leave.”
“Are you kidding me?” His voice lifted at the end, causing Grace to turn.
“No. I’m not,” she replied, calm and monotone.
Max scowled with his arms out wide. “And that’s it. No denial, no explanation, nothing?”
Grace shook her head slowly. The only denial she could see was his. “You saw what you wanted to see, Max, nothing more. I could spend the next hour explaining what was actually happening, and why, but it wouldn’t matter.”
“Why wouldn’t it matter?” he snapped.
Grace’s heart thumped at the fire in his eyes. He was too stubborn to realize what he was feeling, too blind to see what was right in front of him, but it wasn’t the time to try to show him. As much as it pained Grace, she knew he’d have to come to the realization on his own. “Would it matter to you, Max?”
“Yes!”