Edgewood was my home, though, for more reasons than just the shop. I had so many memories here, along with Ellington Heights, that it would be hard for me to part with and start fresh. I was sentimental to a fault and craved having the familiarity of the roads, the people, and everything in between.
“No,” I finally said.
He hummed in response, pulling into the parking lot of Crossroads and parking on the right side of the lot, facing the building. There were a few cars already here. The door to thebar was propped open with a large tin, music from the jukebox inside playing loudly.
“You weren’t kidding about the bull,” he said, nodding through the windshield.
I kicked open my door and climbed out, pulling in a lungful of air while shoving my hands into my pockets to check for both my wallet and phone for the nth time. Max slid out of the driver’s side and shut his door, coming around to my side to do the same for me and only missing by a split second as I hip-checked it closed.
“Oh—”
“Sorry,” he apologized.
Ugh, this was already turning into a total disaster.
How many points would I wrack up with karma if I were to pretend to get an emergency phone call and have to rush home?
Canceling this date felt rude as hell, especially whenIwas the one who’d contacted him about it in the first place and not the other way around. But the alternative, I feared, was that this weird energy was only the beginning to a date that was already looking like it was spiraling into a complete mess from here.
I had a feeling that I was being punished for not being patient. That this was some cosmic force giving me the proverbial finger wag while chastising me with that old ‘good things come to those who wait’saying that my mother loved beating me over the head with as a kid.
Of course, I never listened. I was always too damn stubborn to learn anything without actually finding myself bulldozing my way head first through the problem instead.
How else was I going to learn but doing it myself the hard way?
I supposed that was a symptom of growing up as the youngest male sibling and always seeing my brothers’ mistakesand finding the exact opposite solution, even if it was still wrong in the end.
Two fingers came up to stroke along my cheek, ripping me back into the present.
I froze against the side of the car, my eyes going wide while Max leaned forward, his eyes growing heavy. The worst part about all of this was the way he cupped my face—almost identical to how Avery did—but instead of my skin burning at the touch, it just felt off.
Wrong.
I steeled myself for the inevitable press of his lips against mine, prepared to give him the best kiss I could muster up. To my surprise, he frowned and then leaned back, giving me room to breathe again.
“You’re kind of wincing,” he muttered.
Fuck.
“S-Sorry.”
He took a full step back, ran his hand through his hair. “Is it me? Is there—are you not attracted to...”
“No, no.” Jesus, how was I even supposed to go about salvaging this for both of our dignity’s sake. “It’s not that, Max.”
“Is there someone else, then? I’ve got to be honest, I’m kind of stumped here.”
“You’re a perfectly good guy, trust me.”
His frown deepened. “That definitely sounds like you’re trying to let me down easy. Look, I get it, Brandon, if you aren’t feeling it?—”
“It’s not you. I swear. It’s a me thing.” It wasalla me thing. Max was perfect and I was the dumb idiot for leading him on in the first place. The first taste of Avery should’ve been my red flag to cut Max loose and let him go find a guy that was one hundred percent invested in him.
Not someone like me who was clearly ready to get his heart crushed again.
I sighed. “It’s not you, trust me. If I could, I’d date you in a heartbeat. You’re literally every guy’s wet dream when it comes to a partner.”
Even though my words were flattering, he didn’t look happy to hear them at all. He stared at me for a long moment, causing me to squirm against the car out of discomfort. It felt like he was trying to dissect me—see past my layers to the truly fucked up loser I was underneath all of this.
