A beat passes, then he looks at me again. “But I want to see you right after. I’m probably going to need a reality check. Or a whiskey. Or both.”
I smile. “I’ll bring both. And Melody. She’s very judgmental.”
That earns a quiet laugh—the real kind. And then I’m in his arms, and everything else fades into the background.
I hear someone clear their throat.
Not a dramatic cough—just the polite, awkward kind that says:I’ve been here the whole time.
I pull back from Max, blinking. That’s when I notice him.
A tall guy with dark curls, scruffy stubble, and the kind of relaxed posture that only comes from knowing exactly where the chips and beer are stored. He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, eyebrows raised in a way that somehow manages to be amused and judgy at the same time.
“Oh,” I say, mortified. “Hi. I didn’t know anyone else was here.”
Max winces. “Right. Sorry.” He turns to the guy. “Nora, this is Lucas.Lucas, this is—well.Nora.”
Lucas steps forward and offers his hand. “Nice to finally meet the girl Max has absolutelynotbeen obsessing over like a teenage ghostwriter for sad indie songs.”
I blink. Then laugh, because what else can you do? “That’s oddly specific.”
“He gets weird when he likes someone,” Lucas says, shaking my hand. “Also emotional. And suspiciously poetic. You’re lucky you missed the phase where he brooded silently and sighed at plants.”
“I didnotsigh at plants,” Max mutters.
Lucas grins. “You whispered to that ficus by the piano, man. Iheardyou.”
I glance at Max, who looks somewhere between exasperated and betrayed. “Is this the kind of friendship where you bully each other out of affection?”
“Exactly,” Lucas says cheerfully. “Now I see why he likes you.”
Max rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile there. “He stayed after the article dropped. Made sure I didn’t smash anything or spiral into full-blown nihilism.”
“Also I ate all your chips,” Lucas adds. “Because that’s how emotional support works.”
“I really like him,” I say to Max, mock-whispering. “He’s very humble.”
Lucas says: “Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. Just wanted to make sure this guy didn’t do something dumb. Like ghost you.”
“He wouldn’t,” I say softly, meaning it.
Lucas gives Max a quick look. Some quiet guy-language passes between them—one of those wordless exchanges that says more than an entire paragraph. Then Lucas grabs his jacket from the armchair, tosses Melody a dramatic wink, and heads for the door.
As it clicks shut behind him, Max exhales and turns to me. “Well. That went better than expected.”
“Are you kidding?” I smile. “I think I just met your emotional handler.”
***
It’s past midnight when I duck into the bathroom. The lights are bright and expensive-looking, and the counters are so clean they practically sparkle. And there, on the marble sink—
Is a brand new toothbrush.
Correction:tenbrand new toothbrushes.
Laid out in a perfect, almost obsessive little line. Every color. Every style. Some in travel cases, some still in the packaging. One has a dolphin on the handle. One is battery-operated and vibrates when I accidentally touch the button.
I blink at them.
