She laughs. "No."
"Why don't I believe you?"
She laughs louder. "I used to sleep with Bronson. Not Max."
Suddenly, I can breathe again and the wave in my belly calms.Bronson. "Oh. Wow. What happened?"
She shrugs and tries to smile, but her forehead is tight as if she's forcing it. "Nothing. He just never really liked me."
"Oh." I sigh and feel a tingle of compassion for her. The Butcher Boys are addictive. If my love for Max was unrequited—and maybe it is—I'd never be a whole person again after we split. I find her sad but resolute gaze. "But youlikedhim."
She laughs as she flicks her hair around. "Liked? I'm still in love with that crazy son of a bitch."
"In this case, you actually can call her a bitch too!" The words just tumble out.
We both laugh and share a knowing grin that only girls in love with a Butcher boy could understand. That love is consuming. I'm sure Bronson is just as intense to be in love with as Max. Just as overwhelming. "Go find him. He's single!"
She releases a little sigh, but a smile still plays on her lips. "He'll probably always be single."
I nod. "I've noticed. He's alone a lot."
"He's a romantic and has never been able to see past Shoshanna."
I lean across the table. "Who is Shoshanna?"
Her mouth drops open. "You don’t know about Shosh?"
Max clears his throat and his shadow is suddenly blanketing us. "Shosh is my brother's business. And you, Little One, owe me a dance."
I look up and scrutinise him, searching for something that would tell me what he'd been doing... Like blood. But the dark colours he's wearing camouflage any trace of an altercation.
Smiling, he offers me his hand. When I take it, he pullsme to my feet, bands an arm around my middle, and lifts me onto my tippy toes. I kiss him deeply.
Then we walk onto the dance floor. As the music turns slow and romantic, I envelop his waist with my arms, cuddling him as we sway.
"What did you just do?" I ask as I listen to his heart beating on the other side of my ear.
He holds me to him, both arms around my shoulders, a hand stroking the back of my head, his fingers running through my hair. "Remember that picture of us on Twitter?"
"How could I forget?" I say, breathing slow and heavy in rhythm with his heartbeat. "My brother had a nervous breakdown."
"Remember some of the comments? Specifically, the ones about you and other guys?"
I exhale in a rush. "Yes."
"I've been making sure that they don't do that again."
"Max." I blink into his shirt. "You said to forget about it."
"No. I said foryouto forget about it. I took care of it. Did you honestly think I'd let some random guys say the things they said and not have words with them?"
I have no answer to that question, but I'm suddenly reminded of the random text messages I'd received. It's probably not a good idea to ever tell Max...
Sighing against him, I listen as the jazz band plays a smooth tune and the blonde girl on stage sings about Chicago in the fall. Her voice is sweet and melodic. A perfect match to this fairy-tale setting. Even after we'd made our relationship official, I'd never imagined moments like this. In the open. For all eyes to see. I'd accepted a kind of hidden, secret love affair with Max Butcher. This is so, so much better.
"Have you had other girls tell you they love you?" I ask, even though I already know the answer. How could they not?
I feel his sigh through his chest. "Yes"
