Page 68 of Cream and Punishment
His story explained a lot, though. How someone who never seemed bothered by anything could take on drug dealers every day.
If only I could stop caring about unimportant things. Instead, I internalized everything until something that shouldn’t matter seemed like a huge deal. Like whether using a period while texting would come off as passive aggressive if I don’t counter it with an exclamation point in the next sentence.
“For what it’s worth” —I waited until the door closed behind the newcomer as they left, trying desperately to ignore the way my pulse hiccupped when Max’s eyes met mine— “I think both yourtíoand your namesake would be proud of the man you’ve become.”
He smiled softly, eyes flicking over my face. “I hope so.”
“I know so.”
Technically I didn’tknow, but they’d be foolish not to be proud of Max. He was brave, funny, kind, and disciplined. He prioritized problems and set others at ease. If I, one of the most awkward and perpetually uncomfortable people I knew, felt comfortable and safe around him, that had to meansomething, right?
We sat in companionable silence for a few heartbeats, smiling at each other like weirdos while warm fuzzies invaded my chest cavity.Safety. That’s what this feeling was. Safety and contentment.
When one of the dryers above our heads buzzed, I jolted.
Max pointed toward my phone, which still sat on the floor by my leg. “So… baking shows?”
twenty-three
Maxgasped,shakinghishead at the TV. “They didn’t get the cakes out of the pan before putting them in the blast chiller. Rookie mistake.”
I snorted, not even bothering to hide my smile. Since our laundry room meet-up, Max had slowly but surely been sucked into the addictive rabbit hole that was Netflix’sNailed It!Three days ago, he didn’t even know what a blast chiller was, and now he was apparently aNailed It!professional.
We stood in my kitchen, putting away leftovers after sharing dinner together again. Teriyaki chicken and rice this time, with sauteed vegetables Max brought. And, really, good on him for bringing balance to my life in multiple ways now. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate a vegetable unprovoked.
I’d divided the leftovers into my red-topped Tupperware I’d had for ages as well as blue-topped ones I’d bought specifically for this purpose. They were the ones I’d dubbed the “Max Tuppers.” Every dessert or leftovers exchanged between us from here on out would go in the Max Tuppers. He’d have easy leftovers to bring to work for lunch, and I got to show my affection for him in the best way I knew how: food.
We’d only had dinner together once before this since I’d gotten the Max Tuppers, but I had no doubt my investment would pay off. And I’d found out that Max was a decent cook, since we’d eaten at his apartment Monday night. As if I wasn’t already a goner for him, he had to go and exploit my biggest weakness—Italian food. Homemade barbecue chicken pizza, to be exact. So, pseudo-Italian, but full-delicious.
Max looked away from the baking disaster unfolding on-screen to the two different Tupperwares, his hands suds-deep in washing the dishes we’d dirtied. His brow wrinkled. “Oh, Dekker, I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you. I won’t be able to use the leftovers this time.” He turned his focus to the dishes, and there it remained. “I’ll be out of town. Kind of a quick, last-minute trip.”
“Oh.”
I tried to brush off the sinking disappointment. Obviously he had other things going on in his life, and I should be happy for him. Besides, if it was a last-minute thing, maybe his family needed him or something. As much as I wanted to keep him all to myself, I wouldn’t.
Andcouldn’t, really.
I infused brightness into my voice. “That’ll be fun, I bet.”
“I hope so,” Max mused, so quietly I barely heard him.
My insides twisted. I really hoped it wasn’t a family emergency. And, come to think of it, he’d been a bit more reserved today than usual. Still cheerful and considerate as always, just… quieter.
I set the leftovers in the fridge and, after a few moments of nervous fidgeting, asked, “Is everything okay?”
He flashed a smile as he transitioned to drying the dishes, appearing every bit like the Max I knew. “Oh, yeah, everything’s fine. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
Okay, so at least it wasn’t a family emergency. Or at least not one he felt at liberty to discuss, which was fair.
An alternative option occurred to me. I grabbed a towel and set to helping him dry. “Is it work-related by any chance?”
He cocked his head, bewilderment written in the furrow of his brow. “Actually, yeah. It is. How did you know?”
“Just an educated guess.” I sent him what I hoped was a mischievous smile, though I didnottry to wink again, thank you very much. “And now I think I know exactly what you need.”
“Oh yeah?”
I tried semi-successfully to hide my shiver at his attention. But, really, what else was a smitten girl to do when her crush looked at her? Actnormal? Like she hadn’t already picked out their future kids’ names and wedding colors?
