“Call Abby next time,” I reply, earning a scowl.
“Want to go do a shot before dinner? It’s a full house tonight.”
Kendall looks at me and slowly gives her head the slightest shake. “You’re such a pain in my ass.”
I grin, knowing that she’s just agreed to drop it at least for the moment. I wrap my arm around her shoulders directing her to the house. After a few steps I look over my shoulder at Jameson and Max. They haven’t moved. “Are you guys coming?”
Jameson grins and immediately falls into step with us, but Max lags behind, staring at me again with the same puzzled expression that he looks at me so often with.
Once inside, Kendall grabs a short stack of shot glasses and heads to the living room where I’m showing the guys their liquor choices.
“We’re having tequila.”
I furrow my eyebrows at Kendall, finding this demand to be ridiculous and bizarre.
“Unless you’d like to continue our conversation, we’re drinking tequila,” Kendall says with a glare.
I grab the bottle of Jose Cuervo and lift it up in response. Kendall sets down the glasses and fills each of them before raising her glass for a toast. We each follow suit, and look at her expectantly.
“You waiting for something?” Jameson asks, cocking an eyebrow at Kendall.
“All of my toasts are filled with bitchy comments.” She makes it a point to look directly at me.
“To Utter. Fucking. Confusion,” Max declares. My eyebrows rise when I turn to see if there’s more. Max looks down at me with hard eyes.
“Cheers to that,” Kendall says, sounding exasperated as she leads us in throwing back our shots.
When we emerge from the house I notice Paul’s arrived and quickly shuffle myself behind my dad and Caulder, who are talking as my dad grills. Although I’m standing right beside them, their words fail to penetrate me as I watch Abby sit beside Max.
“Why are you avoiding Max?” I give a sideways glance to Caulder and realize he and my dad are both looking at me.
“I’m not.”
“Then what’s going on with you two? It seems like you’re avoiding him.”
“She is,” my mom says, coming up behind me carrying a couple of glasses of slushy red margaritas to my dad and Caulder.
“I am not.” My voice goes higher with each word.
“She’s been busy with getting ready to head back to school.” I look at my dad appreciatively, but catch the look of concern that crosses his face as he covers for me.
“So what do you think? Which Bosse do you think is the hottest?” I turn at the sound of Paul’s voice and watch as he takes a swig of his drink. His inappropriate comment thankfully distracts the prying eyes of Caulder and my mom, who looks at him with disdain, and for the first time that I can recall I feel grateful for Paul and his dickish ways … until I realize he’s posing his question to Max. Great.
“I think the Bosse women are in a class of their own,” Max responds gracefully, seemingly unfazed by Paul’s question, or the fact that he’s settling in next to him, looking eager to discuss more inappropriate topics.
“You played that card very safely, my friend,” Paul says, grinning and slapping Max on the back.
“So, you’re friends with four and five?” Paul leans in closer to Max with a cocky smirk that has me straining to hear what he’ll say next.
“Four and five?” Max asks, raising his eyebrows.
Paul’s smirk widens to a grin, “Kendall and Ace, four and five,” he explains as though this is the cleverest of ideas. Max gives a single slow nod, and I can tell from just seeing his profile that he thinks Paul’s a complete tool.
“Dinner time!” my mom calls, interrupting the focus that’s quickly moved to Max and Paul.
With my plate piled with tamales, I search for a place to sit. Mindi’s seated at the patio table with Savannah, discussing pregnancy and kids, and I can tell by her tone she’s in need of more of those strawberry marshmallows. I opt to take a seat on one of the patio chairs near the pool. I’m still working to get myself situated when Paul sits beside me, and I instantly regret thinking I was grateful for him being here.
“So are we playing some pool basketball after dinner, Ace?” he asks, knocking his knee against mine.
“I don’t know if the others are, but I’m not.” I have a strict policy about remaining fully covered at all times around Paul. He has a tendency to have wandering eyes and hands that has led to pool basketball being permanently canceled in his presence.
“Come on,” Paul cries, setting a hand on my bare knee. “You never play anymore.”
The chair beside me fills and I glance over to see my dad and feel relief and embarrassment wash through me as he gives me a tight smile. “I actually had to add some extra chemicals into the pool today. The PH balance was off, so it’s closed for a couple of days.”
“We could play volleyball, those still require bikinis,” Paul says with a grin.
“Ace and I have plans. Sorry, no bikinis tonight, Paul.” Max stands in front of me.
I try to disguise my shock as I glance at him, feeling confused and uncertain about whether he’s expressing jealousy or just trying to be a good friend and save me. His attention is on Paul, daring him to object.
“You should probably go sit down next to Jenny. She’s looking for you,” he adds. Paul looks up at Max like he’s trying to size him up and gives a small grin, shaking his head before wandering away.
Max takes his vacant seat, settling in as my dad begins discussing the idea of remaking a new vintage car with him while I move my food from side to side with my fork.
When my dad gets up to go for seconds Max leans towards me. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Not really.” I move my attention from my nearly full plate to Max’s eyes. I had been starving, but trying to decipher Max’s intentions filled my stomach with nerves.
“Are you ready to go, then?”
“Where are we going?”
“We need to talk.” Standing up, he takes my plate and stacks it on his, balancing it in one hand and offering me his other. I feel the familiar warmth and pull I’ve been missing as I slip my hand in his, relieved that he seems less upset than when I’d arrived.
“You have to put your Converse on though, or something close-toed.” I eye him curiously but willingly go and trade shoes as instructed.
Max loosely wraps an arm around my shoulders, making me forget why I’m diligently working to avoid him as we travel across to his driveway. “Alright, so I swore to your parents that you’d wear this, and that you wouldn’t get hurt. So don’t get mad that we’re not going far.” Max says, lifting a black helmet and offering it to me. I look at him for a moment and then to his motorcycle, my eyes rounding with excitement.
“We’re going for a ride on your motorcycle?” The words come out sounding far too similar to a squeal, but I can’t help it. He gifts me with his full Max-smile that always makes my lungs feel like they can’t get quite enough air.
“We are.” Grabbing the helmet from my hands, he gently slides it over my hair and works to fasten it below my chin before he reaches for his own helmet and clips it into place. With one graceful move, he swings a leg over the bike and then offers me his hand. I follow suit, feeling nervous as I climb on, and straddle the seat which has a slight incline, which forces me to automatically slide a bit closer to Max.
“Alright, Ace, hold on tight. If you need anything, touch my thigh. That will tell me I need to stop. I won’t be able to hear you very well, so just remember, if you need me to stop at all touch my thigh,” he repeats. I nod before realizing he can’t tell and pipe out an excited understanding.
Max grabs both of my arms and gently pulls me forward so my chest presses flat against his back. He then crosses my arms over his torso and softly rubs the back of my hands with his rough thumbs before gripping the handle bars and revving the engine to life.