Page 95 of All the Forbidden Things
“What time was that?”
“Eight thirty-ish. I can check if you want me to pull over.”
“Nah, mate, that’s fine. Did she say if she was going out anywhere later?”
“Max, she could barely walk or string a sentence together. The only place she was fit for was bed.”
I smack Micky in the chest with the back of my hand. He makes anoomphsound and tries not to laugh.
“She was drunk?” Max sounds kind of shocked by this revelation, and I’m a little offended.
Am I that fucking boring?
“Apparently, the hair salon she went to offers free cocktails and prosecco. Billie appeared to have taken full advantage of both.”
“And she definitely didn’t say she was going anywhere later?”
“Like I said, Max—”
“Yeah, yeah, cheers, mate. Thanks for that.”
“Not a problem.”
The call ends.
“What the fuck?” we say in unison.
“What the fuck was that all about?” Micky repeats, taking his eyes from the road to look at me with a frown.
“I honestly don’t know,” I tell him truthfully. I suddenly feel too hot, so open the window a little before the muffin I’ve only had two bites of attempts to vacate my stomach.
Jessie Ware’s “Say You Love Me” is playing on the radio, and for some reason it pisses me off, so I lean forward and change the station.
“Not a fan of that one, Spice?”
“Not this morning, Mick,” I respond.
“Talk to me, and I want you to be honest.” Micky again slides his gaze from the road to meet mine. “I had Jake in the car the other day, and he said something about there being chemistry between you and Max. Is there something going on between the two of you?”
I blow out a long slow breath. I don’t want to lie to Micky, but at the same time, I’m not exactly sure what I’d be admitting to.
“Nothing’s happened,” I tell him, closing my eyes and shaking my head slowly. I retrieve my coffee from the cup holder and take a sip, hoping it doesn’t come back up.
“I hear a but.”
“Yeah, there’s a but; however, I’m not sure what that but is.”
“Talk to me, Spice.”
“It’s . . . I dunno. When we’re together, there’s something there. It’s real, almost tangible. We talk . . .” I turn in my seat and look out the window as I try to formulate the words to describe exactly what’s happening with Max and me. “We talk, Mick. We talk with our words, we talk with a look, and we talk with the simplest of touches. It’s like each of us knows what the other’s trying to say, whether we use words or not. There’s a spark, a draw, a pull . . .”
“Fuck me, Spice.”
“I know, it makes no sense, and it’s all been so quick and intense.”
“Your brother will lose his fucking mind when he finds out about this.”
I spin my head to look at him, his eyes now fixed on the road. “You won’t tell him, will you? Nothing’s happened, honestly. And now Whitney’s back, nothing will.”
