They texted back and forth for days, until the days turned into another week. It was always casual conversation about how they were spending their time—she was back in Preston County—details about another art show she’d been commissioned for in Philly, following her amazing success in New York, and Max’s meetings. Even though he was anxious to ask whether she’d thought any more about what she wanted, he refrained from pushing. Max knew what she was doing. She was learning to trust him again, slowly and surely, opening up and giving him the second chance he so desperately wanted.
And he was desperate for it. The more he thought about spending time with her, the more he wanted it. Carter had been right: they didn’t need labels. Max just wanted to be with Grace in any capacity she’d allow. In spite of his impatience, Max stayed in New York, resisting the urge to go back to West Virginia, however regretfully, complying with her request for time. It was the least he could do.
Max spent his days doing what he’d always done since he’d left Preston County: running, working, going to his meetings, staying clean, staying sober, fighting the good fight, all the while looking forward to his daily texts from Grace.
It was on a hot evening two weeks after he’d last seen her that Grace called. The conversation wasn’t as awkward as Max anticipated. He found himself smiling at the sound of her voice and the excitement she oozed as she told him about her new photographs and filled him in on Uncle Vince and the family, even though she knew Max spoke to them regularly. At first she called twice a week for ten minutes. Then she called three times, until within a week they were speaking for an hour every day. The routine was as easy as it had been when they’d started running together. They fit, not just physically, but emotionally, too.
It was during one of their conversations that Grace brought up the delicate situation of her brother, Kai. Max was under no illusions. He knew that Kai, quite rightly, had taken serious issue with Max’s behavior, and as a result he was expressing concern about Grace having any kind of relationship with Max, over the phone or otherwise.
Max was sitting on his sofa, cell phone to his ear, his bare feet kicked up on the coffee table. “Can I do anything to help?” he asked. “I could, I don’t know, maybe talk to him.”
Grace had laughed nervously. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, but I appreciate the offer. He’ll come around. If he knows I’m happy and safe, he’ll get over it.”
“You’re safe with me.”
“I know.”
Max had swallowed, sensing they were teetering over the line Grace had drawn between the two of them weeks ago. “Do I make you happy?”
She’d paused before saying, “Yes.”
Max and Riley threw themselves into organizing Carter’s bachelor party, which ended up being a riotous two-day affair in Vegas. Max was more than a little warmed by the fact that Carter, Riley, and of course Tate, whom Max had invited, refrained from drinking in his company. By the second night, however, after a day by the pool, Max forced a tequila into Carter’s hand, teasing him mercilessly about how he deserved it for agreeing to subject himself to a life of servitude. There’d been a manly hug and backslap and Carter had knocked that shit back like he’d been desperate for it.
It was followed by five more.
As Carter had requested, there were no strippers, much to Riley’s upset. Instead, the ten members of the party enjoyed good food, good wine, scorching-hot weather, and lots and lots of gambling. Max couldn’t deny that he’d enjoyed himself, even if it had been hard being in a club not drinking, but his friends were never too far away, encouraging and helping him through it. Max understood that this was how his life would always be, for better or for worse, and as he watched Riley grinding up against a bunch of girls while the others laughed and egged him on, Max realized he was okay with that.
He didn’t mind being the designated driver, and he didn’t mind helping Carter pull up Kat’s cell phone number so that he could call her and tell her how much he was missing her. For one fleeting moment, as Carter rambled and slurred down the phone, and Kat’s laughter echoed from the earpiece, Max wondered how Grace would feel if he called to tell her the same.
Three days after they all returned safely to New York, resolute and with a fuck-it-who-cares attitude, Max called Grace and asked her outright, “When can I see you?”
The line was silent for a beat before she replied. “You want to see me?”
Max scoffed and dropped down onto the sofa. “Grace,” he sighed. “I need to see you.” He played with a loose thread hanging from the bottom of his T-shirt. “It’s been weeks and I know I said I’d give you time but . . .”
“But what?”
Max cupped a hand to his forehead. “I miss you.”
Her breath caught. “I miss you, too.”
“Then come,” Max insisted, sitting forward. “Come to New York. Or I can come to you, whatever you want.”
“How, I’m working? It’s Thursday night. Isn’t it Carter’s wedding this weekend?”
Max smacked a palm against the chair arm. “Fuck.” How could he forget that? Some best friend he was. They had a rehearsal dinner tomorrow and then the wedding was Saturday. He still had to run through his best man’s speech.
Grace laughed softly. “It’s okay.”
“Sunday?”
“I can’t. I’m in DC with Kai.”
Max exhaled heavily and slumped back in his seat. “Next week then.”