“Nobody’s a fan of needles.”
He chuckled under his breath. “She’s squeamish. If we’re watching a movie where there’s blood, she has to cover her eyes.”
I imagined them sitting together on the sofa, his arm around her as she squealed and squirmed closer to him. Lily was perfectly nice, but annoying. She always had to be by Max if we hung out in groups, she held his hand whenever we walked anywhere, and she kissed him all the time. Sometimes she’d plant one on him out of the blue, and all I could do was stare at them making out.
“I really like her,” Max said, getting more ink. “I think I love her.”
“Ow.” The needle felt sharper. Max was in love? Was he certain? I’d liked some of my boyfriends a lot, but never loved them. “How do you know?”
“Know what?”
“That you love her.” My gaze roamed to his jawline for a millisecond.
“I don’t know for sure. It’s not the first time. It’s just the first time with someone who…you know, I think feels the same way.” He paused and scratched the back of his neck. “Done. You should take a look.”
I didn’t care about the tattoo anymore, but I stood and admired the artwork in the full-length mirror anyway. The lines were crisp, the curves elegant, and he did larger dots to create the shaded sections. No one would believe I got this at a house party instead of a boutique tattoo shop with a year-long waitlist.
“A Max Weber original.” I smiled at him. “I love it.”
“Hey, you twooo.” Gwen appeared in the doorway, her pupils the size of the moon. “Good goddess, you’re both so beautiful.”
“How much of that tea did you drink?” Max asked, holding back a laugh.
“I’m discovering colors I didn’t know existed.” She gasped at my tattoo. “Oooh, pretty.”
“No touching.” Max blocked Gwen’s incoming palm, and she pouted.
“No fun.”
“Just watching out for our Daze here.” He rested a hand on my arm and inspected the artwork again. My body heated under his attention. “I have to grab the Aquaphor from downstairs. Be right back.”
We watched him go, and Gwen grabbed both of my hands in hers.
“Daisy, can I ask you something?”
“Is it what I think you’re going to ask? Because you’ve already asked it before. Multiple times.”
“I sense the energy there.” Gwen’s brows soared. I enjoyed having her around, even though she was infuriatingly intuitive, sober or not. “You’ve thought about it. You and Max?”
“I—” With a glance down the hall, I made sure no one was coming. “You won’t tell anyone?”
“Not a soul.”
“So…” I sighed and halfway hoped Gwen was too far gone to remember what I’d say next. “Maybe there’s been little crushes between us here and there, but nothing’s ever happened.”
Her shoulders slumped, deflated from my lack of salacious details, but my heart pounded with the confession. That was the closest I’d ever come to admitting I had a crush on Max. That’s what those feelings were, though—crushes. And I’d have to be an idiot to think he didn’t also have a crush now and then, too, but that was before Lily. She wasn’t even his first love.
“Do you want something to happen?” Gwen’s voice went soft.
Max returned, giving me an excuse not to reply. As he rubbed some healing lotion into the ink, my thoughts stumbled. Sometimes at night, I’d lie in bed after a date or making out with a guy in his car, and my mind would travel to Max. Throughout our friendship, we’d talked on the phone until the sun rose or sprawled out for movie marathons on his couch. He’d dropped me off hundreds of times at my house before, like a boyfriend, but we had never kissed. And I knew why.
Max had already started getting mail from colleges across the US, over a year out from graduation, and I struggled to keep my grades decent. He was bound for something amazing and artistic, and he deserved to get out from under his parents’ scrutiny. I wouldn’t stand in the way of him and Lily, someone heloved, and I wouldn’t be the reason he stuck around, either.
Relationships meant sacrifice. Resentment. I could never bear to have him look at me the way my mom and dad looked at each other during their fights.
It was a crush, I reminded myself. A crush wasn’t worth blowing up our whole friendship over. It would pass.
Chapter Twenty
