An Ounce of Hope (A Pound of Flesh #2)

He pulled at his tie, loosening it and pulling it from around his neck, before he undid the top two buttons of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves to his elbows. It was then that he heard a knock. Was that what had woken him?

Cocking his head to listen, the knock came again, this time harder and for longer. Standing on sleepy legs, Max trailed a hand through his hair and approached the door cautiously. Who the hell would be knocking on a body shop door at this time of night? He paused by the side of a large wrench, seriously considering whether or not to pick it up on the off chance that trouble stood on the other side of the door. He grabbed it and leaned it against the side of the wall within easy reach should shit go down. He unlocked the dead bolt, pulled back the second lock, and opened the door a crack.

“Grace.”

She stood on the sidewalk, still in her yellow dress. Max opened the door wider. “What are you doing here?”

Grace shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Come in.” Max stood back as she glanced over her shoulder toward a taxicab that Max belatedly realized was waiting for her. She held up her hand, fingers wide apart, indicating five minutes, and moved past Max into the body shop.

He closed the door behind her. If five minutes was all he had with her, Max knew he couldn’t waste a second. “Can I get you anything?”

“No,” she answered quickly. “My cab won’t wait.”

Max dipped his chin in understanding, his head still sleep addled. “Wait. How are you here?” he asked in confusion. “How did you know where I was?”

“Your friend came back to the gallery. He told me where you would be if I changed my mind about speaking to you.”

Riley. Well that shit was unexpected. “That’s why you’re here, you want to talk?” Max hedged.

Grace licked her lips and took a deep breath. “I wanted to know why you came tonight.”

Max took a moment to look her over, so spectacular in her dress. “I wanted . . . to see your work. To see you.”

“Why?”

Max clenched his teeth, nerves slithering through his veins. “Because I . . . It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, since we’ve talked, and I wanted to ask you—”

“No,” she spat, halting Max’s words in their tracks. “You don’t understand. You see, I’m fine. Tonight I was fine. I thought I was fine. And then . . . I saw you.”

Though he shouldn’t have been surprised, hurt sliced through him all the same. “I didn’t mean to mess everything up, Grace. I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” he stated quietly. “After I left . . . after what I said.” Max pushed his hands into his pockets and kicked gently at an invisible mark on the shop floor. “I just . . .”

“What? What do you want?” she asked, voice soft and expectant.

Max couldn’t meet her eyes. “I want . . . I don’t want labels. I just want you to be happy, Grace.”

“It didn’t feel like it the day you left. It felt like I’d been ripped in half.” Despite the vehemence in her words, she crossed her arms, clutching her elbows as if holding herself together. “I was ready to let you go—to try and . . . breathe without you.”

Her words stole Max’s own breath. “I know my apologizing, begging, groveling doesn’t take back what I said or how I behaved, but you have to know that none of what I said was true. I didn’t mean any of it.”

“Then why say it at all?”

Max exhaled heavily and lifted his shoulders. “Because . . . when I arrived in West Virginia, I had this perfect plan. I was quite happy living my life, waking up every fucking day, fighting my demons, my addiction, working with my uncle, moving on as best as I could.” He stared at her, so pure and lovely. “And then you . . . you just walked in like a damn hurricane and changed everything.”

She looked down toward his feet guiltily. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t ever want to—”

“No,” he interrupted loudly. “You don’t understand, you changed it for the good.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and stepped toward her. “I just didn’t know what the hell to do. I promised myself that I wouldn’t feel anything for anyone ever again and then all of a sudden I was feeling fucking everything at once and I didn’t know which way was up. I still don’t.” Her green eyes lifted to his, tentative and hopeful. “You’re like no one I’ve ever known,” he added softly. “You see the good in everything, and everyone, even me.”

“But you ran, Max. After everything we’d shared, everything I’d told you, done with you.” She shook her head. “I trusted you and you said those awful things when I asked you how you felt.”

Max exhaled.

“I know you needed closure, Max. And I hope you got it.”

“I did.”

She smiled small. “I’m glad. But you were so ready to push me away to get it.”

Max groaned in frustration. “I needed space from you to clear my head of what we’d done and how I felt, and coming back here was what I knew. It was the only familiar thing I had among shit that was totally unfamiliar.” He gripped his hair before dropping his arms to his sides, defeated. His pulse thundered. “Grace, I—I’ve never felt what I did that night with you. With anyone.”