Page 24 of About That One Night
MaxMc: That’s my mother, not my circle of friends.
Zoe: Even worse. I’ve heard horror stories about your mom too. She has a wedding book for you and another for Jacob.
MaxMc: That’s a lie.
Zoe: What if it’s not? She learns you’re having some kind of . . . whatever it is we’re having and the next thing I know, she’s going to knock at my door and take my measurements for the wedding dress.
MaxMc: I never thought someone would be so scared of my mother.
Zoe: Petrified.
MaxMc: Don’t worry, I’ll never introduce you to her.
Zoe: (relieved face emoji)
MaxMc: See you when you’re back?
Zoe: Why don’t you just come to San Diego? You don’t like it? What’s the big deal?
MaxMc: I go there often. Who told you that lie?
Zoe: The point is that you’re either avoiding San Diego or Liam’s place. Which one is it?
MaxMc: Neither.
Zoe: Don’t lie to me, McCallister.
MaxMc: His house.
Zoe: Why?
MaxMc: His neighbor. I thought . . . I mean it was a great weekend but then she didn’t understand the part where I said that I don’t do relationships.
Zoe: Ooh, there’s the tea.
MaxMc: Don’t you dare tell anyone.
Zoe: My lips are sealed, but this might cost you.
MaxMc: No, it’ll cost you.
Zoe: Whatever, it’s time for me to go to the beach. Miss me.
“We said no work this weekend,” Lily says as she approaches me, her eyebrows narrowed in suspicion.
I put away my phone and smile casually, hoping my face isn’t as flushed as it feels. “Sorry, it was Lora trying to persuade me to go in on Monday. You knowhow she is,” I lie, because the last thing I want is for her to think I’m texting a guy. Especially not a certain tall, dark, and annoyingly charming guy.
I hate not telling her what’s happening right now, but I’m just having fun with Max and I feel like telling anyone is going to make it too . . . too much. It’s like I told him the night first time. We can’t go all the way because that might make it feel too serious, plus it’ll break his rule of never having sex with the same woman twice.
“We’re leaving Sunday night. You’d be crazy to head back to work the next morning,” Audrey says as she hands me a glass of champagne. “Lavender lemonade with prosecco.”
“My favorite,” I say, smiling as I take a sip, grateful for the distraction.
Just like her brother, she’s pretty accommodating with my dietary restrictions and always has something on hand, so I don’t feel left out. It’s sweet, really. Not that I’m thinking about how sweet Max is. Nope. Not at all.
“Max sent us some groceries and the prosecco because he thought he’d be coming but then canceled,” Audrey adds, and I nearly choke on my drink.
“Oh?” I manage to squeak out, trying to sound nonchalant. “That’s . . . thoughtful of him.”
