out of nowhere and were taunting Jamie, calling him retarded. Max had flown into a blind rage and had attacked them. Jamie had followed suit, swinging wildly and connecting with Max by accident. In the end, Max and Jamie had limped home.
The impotent rage he’d felt that day was the same as the rage he was feeling now. But this time, his rage was directed at his own father. “Have you at least talked to Evelyn about autism? About Jamie in particular?”
His father frowned darkly at him. “What the hell do you take me for? Of course I have talked to her about him. She ordered some books about it so she could learn. But she’s new to the disorder, Max. She hasn’t studied it like you have, and you’ve got to cut her some slack. There’s going to be a learning curve. You need to have patience.”
“I’m the one who needs patience? That’s rich, Dad. You’re the one rushing off to Vegas for no good reason.”
“Mind your own business about that,” his father snapped. He walked into the kitchen and started pulling dishes out of the drain tray to put away. “So, hey, you have a big presentation this week, right?”
Max wasn’t going to let him change the subject. “Why not put your wedding on hold a couple of weeks so we can get Jamie into a place he can live on his own? With people who understand the disorder and don’t have a learning curve. Let’s put him somewhere he can take his dog, someplace where he can get on a bus and go to work and come home and paint and get him settled first. Can you not wait that long?”
His father started to shake his head.
“Come on,” Max said impatiently. “You know she doesn’t want Jamie there. And honestly, I don’t think Jamie wants to be there.”
“You don’t know what either one of them want,” his father snapped. “You pop in and out of here a couple of times a week, and you think you know what Jamie wants?”
The truth in that stung, but Max pressed on. “What I know is that we coddle him. We do everything for him. And because we have, this change is going to be harder for him to navigate.”
His father’s face began to mottle with anger. “We do not coddle him.” He turned his back to Max and walked to the window, his hands shoved in his pockets, staring out. “I’m not going to talk about this now. I have enough to do as it is. Jamie will be fine.”
He meant what he said—he refused to talk further about it, changing the subject when Max tried. So Max left. He had a meeting with Drake to go over his presentation one last time.
Drake watched as Max walked through the various elements of his research, the same thing he’d done a couple of times now. But Drake had a curious look on his face. “What?” Max asked.
“I don’t know—you’re usually stoked about your research. You look and sound like your dog died.”
“Yeah,” Max admitted. “Family stuff. And, you know . . . Alanna’s got me beat.”
Drake looked down at his paper, which Max took to mean he thought so, too.
“I don’t know. Just a lot of stuff bubbling up at once,” Max muttered. “Can we walk through this again?”
“Sure,” Drake said. “But this time, at least look like you’re interested in your work.”
Max looked this way because life had kicked him in the ass. Carly was right—nothing sucked worse than meeting the right person at the wrong time.
He had plenty to worry about and sort through with his dad and brother. But he had his job to think about, too. He loved this campus. He loved his job. There was so much he wanted to accomplish, so many things he wanted to study, and the University of Texas had deep pockets for it and a willingness to go the extra distance. But without tenure, he couldn’t bring in the sort of money he needed to really dig into his research.
There was so much weighing on him, but it was really Carly who wouldn’t vacate his thoughts for even a second. He was talking about neural pathways and thinking of her. He couldn’t believe that a woman who dressed like she did, who questioned his dog-keeping abilities, who listened to inspirational podcasts and had an idea for every situation, would be the one to worm her way into his heart. He’d always