Page 104 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?
Mayumi seemed pleased with the review.
Max gave a small nod. “She insisted on being here.”
Ella grinned. “And I’m happy you did.”
“So, what do you think? Can we make up and move forward together?”
“Say yes,” Morgan said in an exaggerated whisper.
“Hurry,” Stevie added.
Another beat. The group fell silent as a blanket of anticipation covered everything. Ella exhaled. “Come here,” she said finally.
Max pushed away from the car, walking across the lawn slowly like she was afraid the moment might vanish if she moved too fast.
When they met in the middle, Ella reached for her hand first. Just that. A quiet promise. Max’s eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill at any moment. “You’re my everything, and there’s no mistaking that. I love you, too,” Ella said, her own emotion strangling her voice. The kiss that followed wasn’t a grand finale, it was a soft beginning.
And somewhere behind them, Mayumi exhaled in relief like she’d been holding her breath for weeks. “Well,” she said, “that’s more like it. I can head home and rest easy.”
“Five stars!” Ariana yelled. “A definite reread.”
Still holding onto Max, Ella turned and regarded her friends, who looked on with such affection. Every single one of them had been a positive force in her life, and she was happy they were able to share this moment with them.
Mayumi stepped forward and gave Ella a quick hug. “Enjoy book club and we’ll have dinner soon, okay? All four of us.”
“Yes, ma’am. You have no idea how much I would love that.”
Mayumi accepted the keys from Max, slid into the driver’s seat, and pulled away to enthusiastic waves and applause from all the Weepers, who understood the value of what they’d just watched.
“Are you sure you have a complicated relationship with your mother?” Stevie asked Max, leading them all inside. “She seems like a darling.”
Max laughed. “Trust me. There are layers involved.”
Ella watched Max’s car as it disappeared down the street, which Ella imagined meant they’d be driving home together, which honestly sounded nothing short of perfect. As the other four Weepers filed inside, Ella tugged on Max’s hand, pausing her there on the porch. Once they were alone, she went up on her toes, wrapped her arms around Max’s neck, and stared deeply into her expressive brown eyes.
“I’m really happy to see you.”
Max opened her mouth to respond, but Ella captured it in a kiss that communicated everything she wanted to say privately, including that Max looked so ridiculously hot that Ella didn’t know what to do with herself. She wanted to run her hand through that gorgeous hair and press her skin to Max’s, absolutely nothing between them. In fact, she might stay there forever.
“Well, that kiss was worth waiting for,” Max said, eyes still closed when they came up for air. “Let’s skip this meeting, go back to my place, and never leave.” She picked up a strand of Ella’s hair and placed it behind her shoulder.
“We absolutely cannot,” Ella said. “It’s once a week, and we made a promise to the book when we read it.”
“To thebook?” Max laughed. “If I didn’t love this side of you, I might be offended.”
“What’s an hour?” Ella asked.
“Fine. But after that, I have plans.”
“What kind?” Ella asked, her stomach muscles tightening.
“The kind that starts with me stripping you out of those jeans. And ends with you forgetting your own name.”
“You two joining us?” Stevie called.
“We’ll be right in,” Ella yelled back, her hands beneath the back of Max’s shirt. “One hour.”
For the next sixty minutes, Ella did her best to listen intently to the back-and-forth, picking up where they left off before Max’s momentous arrival. Olive thought the sex scenes were too tepid. Morgan loved the wallflower who came into herself by the end of the book and learned how to stand up for what she wanted. Stevie liked the wine that Ariana brought. All the while, Ella felt Max’s gaze on her and could barely string two coherent thoughts together. Every time Max shifted in her seat, whether stretching her legs out, propping an ankle casually on her knee, or running her thumb slowly around the rim of her wineglass, Ella’s body reacted like she’d been touched. She tried to nod at Morgan’s point about too many characters, offer something intelligent about secondary arcs, maybe even agree with Olive’s hatred of food descriptions just to get the conversation moving. But Max kept watching her with that look, like she already knew exactly what Ella wanted, and was in absolutely no rush to give it to her. She knew what she was doing, and it was torture.
