Carter snorted. “That’s not news, man.”
Max laughed as they reached the foot of the stairs and pulled the boardinghouse door open to let Carter through. A fast-moving body who exclaimed, “I’m so sorry,” careened into him.
Max gripped soft arms, smelled cocoa butter, and immediately let go, stepping back. “Grace,” he blurted.
Christ, it was just like the first time they’d met, she bumping into him, all nervous and flustered. Except now she didn’t look flustered. She looked tired and unhappy. She gazed up at him, her green eyes expectant, but Max had no words of comfort for her. He had no words at all. The silence in the small vestibule became suffocating, before she glanced over to Carter, who smiled and held out his hand.
“I’ll introduce myself, shall I?” he said, knocking his shoulder against Max’s. “Carter.”
They shook hands and Max watched a perfect smile crease Grace’s face.
“Max’s best friend,” she said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“None of it’s true,” Carter replied. “Well, some of it. Okay. Maybe all of it.”
Grace gave a little laugh at the same time Max shifted on his feet. Carter looked back and forth between the two of them, noticing the tension. Jesus, Max could barely look at her. Not that he didn’t want to; she was gorgeous. But the shame that clutched his chest, along with something that was both heavy and foreign, kept his eyes stuck resolutely to the floor. He wanted nothing more than for that sucker to swallow him whole.
“We’re just heading for a late lunch,” Carter added. “Do you wanna come?”
Max threw him a look that would have rendered any other man dead on the spot. “No,” he said before Grace could answer. “She has stuff to do.” He finally looked at her. “Don’t you?”
Guilt and frustration burned up his back when he saw the wounded flicker in her eyes. “Sure.” She took a deep breath and looked to Carter. “Sure. You two have fun. It was nice to meet you.” She pinned Max with a look that defied argument. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Max nodded. It wasn’t until the door closed behind her that he felt he could breathe.
Carter whistled low. “Dude, what the fuck was that?”
Max rubbed his temples with the pads of his fingers. “I can’t— It’s not what you think. It’s not what it looks like.”
Carter smirked, seeing through Max’s lie. “Really? Because from your face I think it’s exactly what it looks like.” He glanced toward the door as though he could still see Grace through it. “Why the hell haven’t you mentioned her before?”
Wasn’t that the million-dollar question? Max lifted his shoulders toward his ears, opening his mouth to say something, but nothing came. He exhaled on a growl and yanked the door open. “I’ll tell you everything over a strong coffee.”
So he did. Sitting in his usual seat in the quiet coffee shop, Max relayed the last four months to his best friend, every moment between him and Grace, her past, the arrangement they made, July Fourth, the cellar, up to and including the night before. Carter sat quietly, occasionally sipping his espresso. He didn’t ask questions and never looked judgmental. Max could have hugged him again for it. Truthfully, it felt good to purge.
Thumping back in his seat, Max waited for Carter to hit him with a glorious piece of advice. Instead, he sighed and ran his index finger around the rim of his cup.
He seemed to mull over what he was going to say until Max couldn’t take it anymore. “Spit it out, please,” he complained.
Carter frowned. “I’m not sure you wanna hear what I think.”
Max placed his elbows on the table and dropped his chin into his hands. “No, man, I really do.” He cupped his fingers over his mouth, waiting. “I . . . I’m at a loss here.”
Carter sat forward, mirroring Max’s pose. “My first question is, why? Why start this?”
Max had asked himself the same thing, and the only answer he could come up with was why the hell not. He said as much to Carter, who appeared uncomfortable with the answer. “That’s a shitty reason.”
Max nodded in agreement, but there it was.
“I have to ask,” Carter said quietly. “Is this just about sex?” Max opened his mouth to reply, but Carter stopped him. “What I mean is, she seems like a nice girl, beautiful. I mean, she trusted you enough, right? Could it be more? Is that why you’re freaking out?”
Max paused for a moment, mulling that over. “I like her,” he admitted through his fingers. “But, no. It’s not anything more.”
Carter’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally. “Do you want it to be?”
Max dropped his hands back to the tabletop and shook his head. “I can’t, man. You know that.”
“Lizzie,” Carter said as though the mere thought of her offended him. “That woman . . .”