a half smile. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Short list, from what Hal tells me.”
“Your brother lives to defame me,” Max said, his smile becoming a grin. “Right, okay, I’m going.” He pulled away a little then said, “Fuck it,” and leaned back in for another kiss. It was short, but something about it was hotter than all the others. Maybe it was the fact that he found it just as hard to say good-bye, that he wanted just one more taste of me, because I sure as hell wanted the same.
My blush started up. Time to make a graceful exit.
“Bye, Max.”
“Bye, Dominic.” He shut the door and headed into the house, and after I made sure he got in okay, I pulled away from the curb and drove to the station in a daze.
Just the thought of Max made something powerful twist in my chest, and it disconcerted me. I couldn’t remember becoming infatuated this fast with anyone else. Hal would say I had a crush, like it was a bad thing, like we were in high school again and I was only now discovering what feelings like this meant.
But this felt like more.
I’d admired Max when he’d been just Hal’s friend, but I’d known better than to let it go too far. A few daydreams—maybe a few wet dreams, too—had been the whole of it. I didn’t let myself feel a crush, didn’t let myself hope for more, until I got away from Edgewood and into the army. That was a mistake. There was too much unfamiliarity there, too many people coping with a new environment, new rules, a new way of life.
I’d still come close with a few guys—met them in the bathroom more than once, gone to a bar and fucked around in the alley, even gotten a hotel room with a few of them. The first man to fuck me had been two years older than me, and he’d bent me over a bathroom sink and hadn’t bothered to stretch me—he didn’t like that sort of stuff, he said. I’d come prepared, fortunately, and had used my own hand to get ready before our hookup, but it was still…disappointing.
I’d seen a life of this stretching out in front of me, furtive meetings and one-night stands, culminating in an endless repetition of “later, man,” when I knew later would never come.
Last night wasn’t like that.
It wasn’t like any of that. Not even close.
…
Getting to the station was done on autopilot. I parked, walked inside, said hello to the desk sergeant, and sat down at my desk, still feeling fuzzy. I didn’t notice Lauren was speaking to me until her hand was right in front of my face, waving in a slow, nonconfrontational manner.
I startled and glanced up at her. “Sorry, what? Did you say something? What did I miss?”
“I was asking how your weekend was,” she said gently. “Nicky, are you feeling all right? Is there something I can help you with?”
Lauren had a lot of experience dealing with zone-outs—her husband was a veteran, too, only he’d come out of his stint overseas with a missing leg and an addiction to painkillers. Lauren had worked with therapists on how best to help her husband, and how to help herself while she did it, and it had given her a certain sensitivity when it came to other people’s mental health.
I wasn’t zoning out for a bad reason, though. “No, I’m good,” I said with a smile. “Sorry I made you worry, but really, I’m fine.”
“Huh.” She relaxed a little bit, sitting down on the edge of my desk. Her hair was pulled back into two tight braids on either side of her head. Fine lines fanned out around her eyes and the edges of her lips, and she smelled a little bit like milk—maybe her toddler had spilled on her this morning. She looked at me, sharp and assessing, and I wondered if her kids ever got away with anything.
“Oh my God.” Her eyes widened. “Did you sleep with someone last night?” She leaned in closer and whispered, “Was it Maxfield? Oh my god, was it? Is that his shirt? It looks a little tight.”
Oh… I looked down at my chest. Was it his shirt? Our clean clothes had all been mixed together in the laundry basket that morning. I’d looked in my closet and found exactly one clean shirt, which I’d given to Max, and then I’d pulled the first, best-smelling dark T-shirt I’d found out