Page 27 of Catch the Sun

Andy rumbles with laughter as he shakes the moisture out of his T-shirt and slides his tongue along his chin to taste the stray droplets. “Water,” he mocks. “Fucking pussy.”

Max stands again, glancing down at my wide-eyed expression. “Want to go for a walk?”

“No. What? Okay,” I ramble through the mood whiplash. I squeeze my can of soda and pull up from the bench, then start walking hurriedly in front of himtoward the water’s edge. I hear his footsteps following, a whoosh of kicked-up sand and rustling grass blades as I toss the Dr Pepper into a recycling can. “So, um, why are we walking?”

“I’m walking,” he says. “You’re sprinting.”

I slow my gait and watch as he sidles up beside me with his hands tucked in his pockets. Biceps lined in blue veins tick and stretch under the moon’s glow. He’s not wearing a sweatshirt or hoodie and his sleeves are cut off at the shoulders.

“You’re sizing me up for that arm-wrestling match, aren’t you?”

He caught me staring at his arms. My face burns hotter, so I decide to pivot. “What was that back there?”

He shrugs with nonchalance. “Andy Sandwell made a disrespectful comment toward you and I reacted accordingly.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I don’t need someone to rescue me.”

He’s silent for a beat as we traipse toward the lake. Moonlight paints a shimmering path across the water like a mirror speckled with stardust. “Nobody ever really needs rescuing,” he says, our footsteps slowing. “But it feels nice sometimes.”

I glance around, wondering where Brynn! and McKay ran off to. I let his response roll off me, not knowing how to process it or what to say. Max keeps doing that. He keeps tying my tongue into knots and zapping my words to ash. I’m not used to it.

“Why did you want to take a walk with me?” I ask again, picking at the frayed hem of my tank top. “According to everyone ever, I’m pretty off-putting.”

There’s another long pause as the breeze coasts off the water and causes my hair to whip around my face. Then Max says softly, “Remove the term ‘off-putting’ and I’ll agree with you there.”

My brain rewinds and I almost choke. A heavy lump lodges in the center of my throat as I flit my gaze over to his. “You…think I’m pretty?”

We come to a stop at the edge of the lake where soggy sand meets water. “Yeah. Sure.” He acts like the admission is no big deal.

I gape at him, mouth unhinged. “Are you flirting with me?”

“You tell me. I’ve never flirted with anyone before, so I wouldn’t know.”

The lump swells, threatening to overtake my response, but I manage to croak out, “Sounded like you were flirting.”

“Then I guess I was. Does that bother you?”

“Yes. I mean…not really.” I shake my head, blinking rapidly. “But yes.”

A smirk spreads, carving out those signature dimples. Every time they appear, it feels as though a little secret has been shared, turning an ordinary moment into something more intimate, more personal. “Which is it?” he wonders. “Am I allowed to flirt with you or not?”

I swallow hard, swiping my clammy palms down my thighs.

I don’t do intimate. I don’t do personal.

Max watches me, eager for my reply, his starry eyes scanning my face for a reaction. Something inside me melts a little. I think it’s my heart. Goopy pieces start to drip, making a slow slide down my chest and depositing in my belly with a warm plunk.

This is probably the part where I’m supposed to smile back at him, or say something flirty, or ask what he’s doing tomorrow so we can make plans.

But in true Ella fashion, I ditch him like a coward.

Backing away, I stutter through a goodbye and offer a quick wave. “Sorry but I gotta go. Curfew. Mom will be worried. Bye.” I catch the way he blinks with confusion, his brows furrowing in disappointment, before I spin around and sprint from the bluffs.

I run the whole way home.

Chapter 7

Max

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