Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 161257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 806(@200wpm)___ 645(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 806(@200wpm)___ 645(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Scott slid into the passenger seat of Max’s ride. “You don’t understand, Max. I keep telling you, it’s complicated.”
Max shoved behind the steering wheel and reached for the remote on his visor. The garage door immediately started to rise. “What’s so fucking complicated about sending a fucking text? Is he technologically challenged or some shit?”
“No,” Scott chuckled. “Just shut up and drive.”
Max scowled and shoved his car key into the ignition, fired the engine to life, and backed it on out. He didn’t like this shit. Didn’t like it at all. That fucker Tad had put a funk on Scott for weeks, and now Scott wanted to reconnect with the asshole? Made no sense. No fucking sense at all.
They pulled out of their neighborhood and headed toward the highway.
“So, why are you meeting the guy at his work? Why not make plans like normal people?”
Scott’s lips twitched as he stared out the windshield, his elbow propped on the window, his hand up on the oh-shit bar. “Let’s just say it’s the best route to take. Navigating Tad takes precision.”
Max shot him a look, not liking the sound of that. “This guy sounds like way more trouble than he’s worth.”
Scott’s smile was one Max had never seen before; small and secretive-looking, and warm. “Nah,” Scott murmured, shaking his head. “He’s just different. A good kind of different.”
Max grunted. “If you say so.”
Scott’s smile widened. “I do.”
Max went silent for a minute, then took a left at the next stop. It’d been two weeks since he’d spoken to Scott about Tad. In the game room after Max’s lobster feast with Sean. Since then, Max and Sean had had another crazy-intense session, and Scott hadn’t mentioned Tad’s name even once. So how come he was suddenly so resolved to see Tad again? Had Max inadvertently encouraged Scott that night, when he’d been trying to do the opposite? Would figure. Max’s intentions liked to backfire on him a lot…
He glanced at Scott. “For the record, I don’t like this.”
“I know you don’t. Don’t worry.”
“He’s gonna pull the same shit.”
“Maybe.”
“And what if he does? You gonna finally let it go?”
Scott frowned and looked down. Nodded his head. “Yeah. I will. Just need to try one more time. So I don’t always wonder.”
“Wonder what? If I was right? That you should never’ve gotten involved with him?”
“No, Max.” Scott looked away, his brown eyes sober. “If I never should’ve let him get away.”
Max quieted at that, brooding. What the fuck ever. He supposed getting confirmation was a plus.
Scott inhaled deep and flicked on the radio.
Panic at the Disco. “Girls/Girls/Boys.”
I… don’t wanna hear you have a boyfriend...
Sometimes… you’re better off alone…
Max smirked darkly. Wasn’t that the god’s honest truth. If Scott was smart, he’d think long and hard about getting mixed up with someone so fucking sketchy. Thing was, Scott generally was pretty level headed about this kind of thing. Dated just as much as Max out of precaution. Which meant never. Scott didn’t seem to mind, though. Always seemed pretty frickin’ content, actually.
So this uncharacteristic shit was kind of hard for Max to understand. That and the fact that, of all the people on the planet to be interested in, Scott had to set his sights on an emotional deadbeat. Seriously. What the fuck was up with that? The dude came around twice, somehow got Scott to bite, then vanished off the fucking grid. Max glared out the windshield as he slowed and took a right. He didn’t like this Tad fucker. Didn’t like him at all. And he sure as shit didn’t want him around Scott. His friend didn’t need that shit. And he shouldn’t be looking for it now. Max should turn the fuck around right this minute.
Pursing his lips, he squared his shoulders. He knew what was best for Scott, even if Scott didn’t. Meaning, until Scott got a clue, it was up to Max to make sure his best friend didn’t get more hurt than he had to. Nip it in the bud. Better safe than sorry. One day Scott would look back and thank him.
Resolve nice and steeled, Max readied to make a U-turn to take their asses back—
“Thanks again for doing this, Max. It means a lot to me. I really appreciate it.”
Fuuuck… Max’s shoulders slumped. Goddamn it to hell. That tone in Scott’s voice.
Plan aborted.
Exhaling a growl, Max turned into the Morning Star’s parking lot. “Don’t mention it,” he muttered. “What are friends for?”
EIGHT
Max heard them pull up to the house in Tad’s Jeep. He’d been home already for a good half hour. Guess they’d made a pit stop on the way. Not that it mattered. Max had been busy in his office, then the shower, getting ready for his first appointment. He’d hoped the hot water would calm his edgy nerves, but it didn’t. Not enough at least. His irritation still remained.