the fact that I paid too much attention to Max over the years, because of my role in playing her wingman, but that’s only a half truth. Something about him has always intrigued me. He always remained slightly distant, looking at everyone with an edge of suspicion.
When Kendall and Max started high school, two summers after her failed attempt to catch his attention, Max began dating every girl in their class. She was bent out of shape for a while then brushed it off, calling him a manwhore, and focused her sights elsewhere, but I continued to watch.
Max has always been attractive, hence the many girls going home with him. He’d always been more built than the other guys in school. I’d quickly learned it was partly out of necessity; he and his two older brothers—who we used to refer to as Hank the Tank and Billy the Bully—would work out constantly, then beat each other senseless. Mom used to scream for Dad to go break up their knock-down, drag-out fights, certain that one of them was going to kill the other. They never did; however, gashes and bruises were frequently worn.
Before becoming better friends with Sharon, my mom deducted it was because Max and his brothers didn’t have a father, and therefore they were competing to hold the alpha male title. She was probably right to some degree, but we try not to encourage our mom—the non-therapist—to psychoanalyze things.
Now Max’s arms and chest both look broader and more defined, covered with a fitted black T-shirt. Jeans hang loose on his hips. The sight of his strong jaw and cheekbones has my fingers constricting with the desire to trace the contours. And though I’m a good fifty feet from him, I can see—or maybe have just memorized—the piercing clarity of his deep blue eyes which are such a beautiful and rare color, I’m sure Crayola would be inspired to replicate the hue.
It’s been three years since I’ve seen Max, and the sight of him is as distracting as it’s always been.
Emily wanders over to us, and I sweep her up and head inside to stop myself from staring at Max for any longer.
“Did I hear a motorcycle out there with y’all?” Mom asks, taking Emily and hugging her.
Emily nods, her whole body bouncing with the movement.
“Yeah, Max is home,” I tell her when her gaze meets mine for confirmation.
“Oh good! Sharon was worried he wouldn’t be back in time. I’ll have to make sure your daddy took enough meat out to grill. I bet those boys can eat a ton. I guess he had to go into San Diego to file something for school. Did you see Jameson and Landon out there, too?”
My mind reels, trying to take in everything she just said, focusing on the part of them eating a ton.
Is she saying that they’re coming over?
I shake my head slowly in response. “Who’s Landon? And what are you talking about?”
Her lips curl into a knowing smile, but before I can ask anything more, Mindi makes her way inside, loudly complaining about how hot she is.
My dad follows behind her. “Ace, I’m grilling. You want to give me a hand?”
I nod and follow him through the house to our backyard. “Are Jenny and Lilly coming tonight?” I haven’t seen my sister Jenny or her daughter in nearly a month.
“No, it sounds like Jenny and Paul are going through quite the rough patch again,” Dad answers with a sigh. Opening the lid of the already hot grill, he begins to scrape it clean.
“Dave!” My mom yells. She’s smiling her too happy of a grin, a sure sign that she has something up her sleeve.
My tension rises as the reality of her smile emerges from the house. Sharon’s following my mom, and right behind her is Max. My fingers constrict on the cushion of my seat as I work to avoid him and focus on Zeus, who’s close on his heels.
Instantly feeling a rush of self-consciousness, I peer down at the emerald green shorts I’d thrown on this morning after my shower. Thankfully it was hot today, requiring shorts opposed to my trademark Sunday sweatpants.
“Sharon, I’m so glad you guys can join us! Ace and I are just getting the grill ready!” Their long friendship that’s progressed from professional to personal is apparent in her warm smile.
To this day it’s not an uncommon occurrence for a woman to approach my father and shamelessly flirt with him, much to my sisters’ and