She nodded. Suddenly feeling brave, she crossed her legs, sitting up and looking Max directly in the eye. “What was Raphaella like?”
Max looked surprised. “My ex-girlfriend? Why?”
Bo shrugged. “I’m curious.”
Max lay back on her bed, crossing his arms under his head. “Clever. Educated. Well-spoken.”
“Beautiful?”
He opened his eyes to look at her. “What made you ask that?”
Bo shrugged again, desperately trying not to blush. “I told you: I’m curious.” She couldn’t tell Max her suspicions that he had a type, a type she was firmly not.
Max looked at her for a long moment, before he nodded. “I thought she was beautiful. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been with her.”
“How long were you together?”
“Three years.”
“Oh.” Bo felt strangely deflated. That was longer than any of her relationships had ever lasted.
“I met Raphaella at one of my concerts,” Max told her. “She played violin. She wanted to talk about music with me.”
Now Bo felt even more deflated. Raphaella was clever, well-educatedandshe played an instrument. What could she offer by comparison? Her looks, and what did they matter? Max had all but said looks weren’t important to him.He did say you were vibrant,her mind offered, but it was a weak argument, given that Max had made that compliment within a Geoffrey context.Face it,Bo told herself,men like Max don’t get serious with women like you. Max will end up with someone like Raphaella again.
“Did you love her?” she asked quietly, and Max blinked.
“Who? Raphaella?”
She nodded, and Max seemed to think for a moment. “I guess I couldn’t have,” he eventually decided. “If I did, we’d still be together.”
She must have sighed, because Max squeezed the ankle he was still holding. “What about you?” he asked, and she looked down at him.
“What about me?”
“You must have an ex-boyfriend or two,” Max replied easily. “Tell me about them.”
“Why?”
“I’m curious.” Max grinned as he repeated her words back to her.
“Oh, well.” Bo shifted uncomfortably. She hated talking about Oliver. Talking about Oliver meant talking about Phoebe, and Oliver’s affair with her.
“Oh, well, what?”
She shrugged. “I, umm, dated someone named Oliver.”
“Okay.” Max nodded. “What was he like?”
“Oh, he was handsome. I think the word people use is ‘jacked’?”
Max’s face went still, and Bo shifted again.
“He was an actor too, well, an actor slash model. He worked out a lot.”
“How long were you with him?” Max asked, a strange tone to his voice.
“Just under a year. He, umm, left in the end.”
