“You weren’t being sneaky. You just didn’t want to dredge up awkward shit that had no bearing on your relationship. Shane will understand once the shock wears off. He’s a great guy.”
“He is, Lily. He really is. And he fought so hard for me. All I did for so long was push him away and make him feel like he wasn’t good enough for me, when really it was the other way around. He’s the one who’s too good. I don’t deserve him. But the kicker is, he wants me anyway. After everything I’ve done to him—how bad I made him feel—he still wants me.” Her head dropped. “Now he’ll see. I’m not worth all of this bullshit. He could do so much better.”
My heart twisted at her words. And as I tried to soothe her, I couldn’t stop my mind from internalizing what she’d said. Maybe that’s why seeing Mary with Max was so hard for me. He finally realized he could do better than me. And even though I had Adam—had declared that he was my version of doing better—the sinking feeling in my stomach left me hollow. I'd never even realized how much I liked the idea of Max fighting for me until now—when I realized he’d stopped.
Chapter 36: Max
I’d felt like a prick for leaving Mary with the girls after Kyle’s epic fuck-up. She’d been all for a little girl-bonding when I’d mentioned the weekend to her, but I was pretty sure riding through a category four emotional meltdown was not what she’d envisioned. But still, when Shane had announced he was ready to leave, she’d leaned over to me and told me to go, knowing that it was my name on the VIP list.
So I’d whispered for her to call me if she needed me, given her a soft kiss on the cheek, and trailed after the boys. And as I’d cast one look over my shoulder back at the table before we exited the restaurant, I’d thought about what a great girl she was. And I wondered what the hell she was doing with me.
I’d arranged for a limo to take us where we wanted to go, mostly because I didn’t know how these guys partied and I didn’t want to get stuck somewhere I didn’t want to be. As we approached and I explained that the limo was for us, some of the excitement for the night stirred. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
“Are there strippers inside? Tell me there are strippers,” Ben pleaded.
“Sorry to disappoint ya, buddy.” I grinned as I would at a four-year-old, clapping him on the shoulder for added support. This guy was a fucking frat boy reject.
I wasn’t quite sure how Ben and Shane had emerged from the same parents. Granted, they looked similar, but that’s where the commonalities ended. Ben made me look mature. And that was really fucking saying something.
The rest of the guys murmured their gratitude as they climbed inside. Shane was the last one to the car, and he stuck his hand out as he reached me.
“Thanks, man. For everything. This is all . . .” he gestured to the limo, “incredible. And I’m sorry the night started out so awkwardly. You think your girl’s gonna be okay with them?” He threw his head back toward the hotel, even though his meaning was clear without the gesture.
“Yeah, she’ll be fine. Mary’s impossible not to like, and Lily’ll watch out for her.”
“Lily? The same Lily who was staring daggers at you about ten minutes ago?” Shane looked skeptical.
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
“I don’t know, dude. She didn’t seem in the friendliest mood.”
“Lily’s only capable of being genuinely rude to me.” I laughed, as though I were joking. We both knew I wasn’t. “I know that girl better than I know anyone else in the world. She’ll pull through for me.”
Shane raised his eyebrows at me. “If you say so,” he shrugged and joined his friends in the limo.
And as I lifted one leg into the car, I took another second to look back at the hotel. It surprised me that Shane doubted that Lily would include Mary in their evening. I briefly wondered if maybe I was wrong. But as I sat in the limousine and shut the door, I knew I wasn’t.
***
The Last Out was new to Atlantic City, though its New York City counterpart had been open for five years. It had been founded by a few former Major League Baseball players and catered to a wealthier crowd. It was a nice diversion from the throng of twenty-somethings thrashing around to techno music that most of the other clubs attracted. This one, while definitely a nightclub that encouraged drinking and dancing, did so in a way that made you feel like you didn’t have to keep touching your back pocket to make sure your wallet hadn’t been stolen.
We’d been there for about two and a half hours, and the throbbing of the bass was starting to make my head pulse with it. The three Gospel writers, as Lily had called them, were much wilder than their namesakes. And teamed up with Ben, they were like kids strung out on Pop Rocks trying to attract girls by being as vulgar as possible.
“You wanna place a bet on which one gets slapped first?” Shane twisted his head toward me so that I could hear him over the music.