“I’d love to meet him. There are one or two things I’d like to say to him. Warnings, mostly.”
“He doesn’t need a warning; it’s not like that, I told you. I don’t want to hurt him or anything. We’re just grown-ups having some grown-up fun. It’s not even serious. We’ll have a good time until we go our separate ways. It’s convenient, that’s all. You’ve been telling me for months I needed to move on from Oliver.Max will help with that. He’s like a Band-Aid I’m sticking on a wound until it heals.”
In the background, Bo heard someone shout out for Willa. A bossy, imposing shout, which made the hair on Bo’s neck stand on end.Scarrow,she thought, her eyes narrowing.And Wills is worried about me.
She heard Willa give another sigh. “I need to go in a minute. Another re-take.”
“Thanks for calling me back.”
“Even though I was too late?” Willa asked pointedly, before her tone changed. “Look, I’m not worried about you hurting Mr Two out of Ten by the way—”
“Max,”Bo corrected her.
“Okay.Max.I’m not worried about you hurting him, I don’t know him. I don’t care about him. I’m worried about him hurtingyou.After what Oliver did . . .”
“I told you; it’s not like that.”
“And I told you, Iknowyou. You’re soft-hearted, kind and you get attached easily. I told you once before this guy could really take advantage of you. Now I’m worried he could hurt you too.”
Bo heard the concern in Willa’s voice, and some of her prickly need to defend Max dissipated. “He won’t hurt me,” she promised. “I’m not in love with him or anything. I hardly know him, in fact. It’s just a bit of fun.” She paused. “Actually, it’s alotof fun.”
At that, she heard Willa laugh. “So, what he lacks in looks he makes up for in talent?”
“Let’s just say that if you think he’s good playing Beethoven you should see him play me.”
“I’ll pass on that show, if it’s all the same to you.” Willa laughed again, before she paused. “Beethoven?”
“Max is a musician.”
“Of course he is,” Willa groaned. “You mean you’ve gone from gorgeous fitspo boys to an unattractive tortured muso?”
“Why are you so disparaging about my choice of lovers?”
“Because you’ve given me every reason to be,” Willa retorted, but Bo knew she would be smiling, just like she was.
“When are you home?” she asked, just as she heard Scarrow calling for Willa again in the background.
“Next week, hopefully. I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
“And Bo?”
“Yes?”
Willa’s voice was clear. “When I get back, I want to meet Mr Two out of Ten.”
Chapter Eleven
Bo was lying on her bed, mindlessly scrolling, when a knock sounded on her summer house door. Only four people in the world had ever come to see her here: Willa, Lisa, Geoffrey and Max. It didn’t take great powers of deduction to work out who it was today. Willa was on location, Lisa in Australia and Bo hoped Geoffrey had better things to do with his afterlife than come to see her. That just left Max.
She blinked as she opened the door when the sun hit her eyes, bringing a hand to shade her vision from the sun. Max stood on the grass outside her home, hair brushed and neatly attired, looking at her with the same calm and measured expression as always.
“Hi,” she said, before smiling at him. “You knocked.”
“Yes,” he replied. “I’ve added knocking on doors to my repertoire of skills. It seemed wise.”
For a moment he stood there, looking at her, and she shifted in the doorway. He seemed thoughtful, his face unmoving, and it occurred to Bo that she’d never heard Max laugh. Like, really laugh. She’d heard him chuckle and seen him smile, but they’d always been half-hidden, as though they were practiced reactions and not true windows into Max’s soul.
