15. Max #2
“I’m coming with you,” Draven said.
I paused for a moment, watching as he poured his green juice into a to-go Thermos. “There’s nothing I can say to make you not come with me, is there?”
His eyes were so beautiful, but very serious as he looked up at me. “Not really, Max. No.”
As I turned to leave the kitchen he reached out and gave my ass a smack.
“I’ll be ready in five minutes,” he called after me as I headed down the hall.
In a few more minutes we reconvened by the front door, where Draven picked up his black Stetson hat and popped it on.
Christ , he looked good.
Hottest fucking cowboy I have ever seen.
Never in my life did I imagine I’d have that thought about a man, but here we were.
Draven insisted that we take his truck. It was the fanciest pickup I’d ever been in, the front seats decked out in a buttery soft black leather.
The whole front of the cab smelled faintly like him, woodsy, spiced, but with a warm undertone like vanilla.
As we made our way down the country roads and onto Laurel Ave, Draven’s eyes scanned the world like he was looking for threats.
He was looking for threats.
It was all a little bit ridiculous. And a lot more fussiness than I needed, all centered around me.
“Quit acting like you’re my bodyguard and I’m some kidnapped kid in a movie,” I told him. He rounded the corner of Second St.
I reached down, fiddling with the knobs on his stereo, pressing the one that connected it to his phone.
Instantly, the screen popped up as music started to play: Fearless - Taylor Swift.
The song blared in the background as I looked over at Draven, a smile coming over my face.
“No fucking way,” I said.
“Little reminder that I am capable of killing you, Max Burnett.”
“You’re a Swiftie,” I said. “That is a Taylor Swift song that Lily always used to play when we were kids. Did Lily get you into her music?”
Draven shook his head.
“You listened to Taylor Swift before? ”
“Always liked her.”
“I thought Draven fucking scowl-cowboy Lyons would listen to some damn black metal, or intense classical music, or something with guitars that rip your eardrums out,” I said. “Not Taylor freaking Swift.”
“I know every word to the songs on this album,” Draven said. “Get me drunk enough and I’ll sing ‘em.”
He started humming along to “Fearless” and I smiled like a giddy fucking kid.
“Never thought I would see the day,” I said.
My heart was doing funny things as I watched Draven tap along on his steering wheel to the Taylor Swift song, driving down Second Street until he pulled into the lot beside Red Fox Diner.
The music I used to listen to, on his lips.
This wild, new world I’d entered lately, in my hometown, with this terrifying and exhilarating man.
As if everything was normal.
“Now you’re just trying to win me over with your deep voice singing Taylor songs.”
“Maybe I’m just a man taking my hot date to breakfast,” he mused, cutting me a green-eyed glance that made my chest go a little molten. “You did come so well for me last night, baby.”
“Ugh. Shut up,” I protested, even though the memory of last night was enough to make me hard in about two seconds flat.
I stared out at the bustling street in front of the diner as Draven found a spot and pulled into park.
How interesting that would be, I thought idly. A fucking date .
It sounded so far-fetched. So at odds with the strange turn my life had taken in the last month. Draven was my sister’s ex, and the man who had first filled me with rage, and then confusion.
Now, he was…
I didn’t know what the fuck he was, to me. He seemed to exist purely to drive me crazy, but also to make my life more interesting than it ever had been.
“Look at you two. Welcome in, Max. Morning, Draven,” Thomas said as we walked into the diner.
“This place smells like cinnamon-soaked heaven,” I said.
I wasn’t usually much of a morning person, so I had no idea the diner would be so busy this early in the day.
The long, red breakfast counter had almost no empty stools left, and at least half of the booths by the windows were taken.
I nodded at a few people I recognized, including one of my old high school math teachers, Mrs. Rosen, a guy who lived down the street from my parents, and a regular from the Hard Spot.
“Fresh batch of cinnamon rolls just came out,” Thomas said over the clatter of dishware and sizzling of bacon on the flat tops behind the bar. “I made a few with orange icing, if you want to try one.”
“God, yes,” Draven said.
I lifted an eyebrow. “What happened to your healthy green juice morning?”
“I’m bad at resisting temptations. You know that by now, love.”
I felt a slow blush creeping up on my cheeks, even though Thomas probably had no clue what Draven was referencing.
Thomas led us down to one of the booths past the big corner window of the diner.
“Yo, Burnett,” I heard from the end of the bar and saw that Andrew and Robbie were there, parked across from two cups of coffee and cinnamon rolls.
Andrew gave me a fist bump. “Dude. Made your Sucker Punch cocktails last night for a few of my football buddies, and they drank, like, six of them each.”
“Oh no,” I said, smiling. “So I’m the reason half of the TNU football team is going to be hungover this morning?”
“That shit is delicious,” Andrew said. “Rename your channel to the cocktail god .”
“Shucks.”
“Hey, what are you up to tonight?” Andrew asked. “Come by the house and party with us?”
“Bartending. As usual,” I told him.
“Boo. Well, come by on your next night off. The guys want you. One of the sophomores is a big fan of your videos.”
“I’ll drop in sometime,” I said. “Enjoy.”
As Draven and I finally sat down at our red leather booth, tucked near the back of the long diner, I noticed he was giving me a look.
Staring at me, more like.
It was the same look he used to give me all the time when he first got into town—as if he was trying to solve me like a puzzle.
“What?” I protested.
“ What what?” Draven teased.
He reached for his hat and gently took it off, placing it on the seat beside him. There was still some sort of glimmer in his eyes.
“What’s with you looking at me like you’re in on some joke that I’m not?”
“It’s not a joke, it’s an observation,” Draven mused, leaning one arm onto the back of the booth, his tattoos on display. “ Come by sometime, Maxxy-poo. Us football players just can’t wait to have you around. ”
I glared at him. “So Andrew’s a friendly guy. What’s your point?”
“Andrew wants to fuck you.”
I puffed out a laugh. “I’m starting to think you have some sort of distorted perception of reality, Draven.”
“No. You’re just blind to when people want you,” he said, his voice like velvet.
I glanced back over at Andrew, sitting there with Robbie at the bar. Andrew caught my eye, smiling and giving me a little nod before turning back to his food.
“I don’t even know if Andrew is attracted to men. I did hear about some new out-and-proud football player, but… wait. Was that him? I don’t pay attention to TNU social shit anymore.”
“You’re cute when you’re trying to deflect.”
I kicked Draven’s shoe under the table. “And you’re infuriating when you think you can figure out everything about Bestens just because you’re an outsider.”
As we put in our orders, Draven’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket, looked at the screen, then put it away again. Then it buzzed again, he ignored it again, and when it started to ring for the third time I finally lifted an eyebrow.
“You going to finally pick that thing up?” I asked.
He frowned at the screen. “I’m sorry, Max. It’ll only be a moment.”
He didn’t seem like he wanted to take the call, but he answered anyway, standing up from the booth and facing out toward one of the back windows.
“What is it?” he said.
I drummed my hands on the table while I watched him from behind, staring a little too long at his ass.
“Is that a joke? Not here , as in Bestens—please tell me you’re kidding, Dom.
No, because I’m in the middle of something right now.
Fuck, you’re not joking.” He let out a long sigh.
“The Red Fox Diner. On Laurel Ave. Yeah, the only place called Red Fox Diner in the area, so I don’t think you could mistake it for anything else. Okay.”
He hung up and came back to the table, a stern look on his face.
“Drama much?” I teased.
But he clearly wasn’t in the mood to joke around anymore. “My friend is in Tennessee. And he’s coming here.”
“Oh. Wow. Someone from Montana likes you enough to come visit Bestens, huh?”
Damn.
Clearly not the time for a joke like that, either.
“Dom’s like a brother to me. If he’s coming to talk to me in person, I doubt it’s good news.”
“So when’s he going to arrive in Bestens?”
Draven set his jaw. “Apparently he’s already five minutes away.”