Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Daisy, Now
“I didn’t get any, Mr. Dub.”
No matter how many times Max corrects his students, they insist on calling him this nickname. It’s adorable. The flyers in my hand become a shield to hide my smile.
“Take some of these,” he says. “You’ve all got your designated sections to flyer. Buddy system, look both ways, yadda yadda. Grab the old ones and replace them with these. And when you talk to people, let them know you’ll be in the show.”
At this, a few students grin.
“My mom was wondering if you’re rescheduling ’cause of the weather,” one girl asks.
“No plans to,” Max says. “We have our eyes on the forecast, though.”
Reports of a freak storm rolling through has everyone nervous, and I’ve tried to keep a level head. If we have bad luck, the heaviest rains would arrive shortly before opening night—three days away—and scare people into staying at home. But these systems go around us 99 percent of the time.
For good measure, I had Stacey do a run-through of the rooms, and I checked the gutters this afternoon.
A young man who introduced himself as Xander narrows his eyes at me. “You look real familiar, Ms. Johnson.”
“I thought so too,” someone else says.
“Oh.” I don’t think I’ve seen his face before. “We may have crossed paths sometime.”
“No, I have seen you.”
“Wait,” gushes a short, spunky girl who told me her name is Zoe. “That portrait. Remember? The one Mr. Dub did.”
The group of six teens murmurs amongst themselves in recognition.
“Portrait?” I ask, but Max talks over me.
“We should get started.” He brings his hands together in an abrupt clap. “See you back here—hopefully with no flyers—in thirty. Got it? Great. This is your extra credit, so you better hop to it. Perfect. Bye.”
The students break off into duos, talking amongst each other as they head down the block. “Just a friend,” I hear one of them mutter, but I don’t catch the rest.
“Should I be concerned with what you’re sharing with your students?”
“It’s—” He waves a hand. “They wanted to see what I could do. So I drew a quick portrait.”
“Of me?”
He nods and starts our journey down the street.
“When?”
“First day of class. Trial by fire sort of thing.”
I pick up my pace to walk next to him, mentally flipping through a calendar. That would have been months ago, back in early June. Of all the people’s faces fresh in his mind that he could have drawn, he chose mine. I suppress a smile.
“Why didn’t you show me?” I ask, feigning indignance. “As the subject, that only feels right.”
“Not my best work. I had two minutes, and I drew from memory.”
“Does this make me your muse?” I lift my shoulder, playing coy.
His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me to him, and his lips effortlessly find mine. The kiss is a tantalizing vertigo—I don’t know which way is up, and I don’t know who’s watching, but I really don’t care.
“If you only knew,” Max mutters against my skin before grabbing my hand and leading me down the sidewalk.
That zip of a new relationship, or a new something, shoots through me.
I want to dip into an alleyway and get even better acquainted with his mouth and every other part of him, but we’re here with flyers in our hands for a reason.
I’ll just have to enjoy this delicious in-between—exciting, unknown—and not think about the end.
We start down the dusty sidewalk, heading for the gas station. We’re on the cusp of golden hour, so the day’s heat lingers, although the temperature at dusk will drop by the minute.
“The kids like you,” I say, holding a sheet of paper in place against a light pole for Max to staple-gun.
“They like extra credit.”
“Only the best teachers get nicknames.”
“They talk too much. And they ask too many personal questions.”
“But they like you.” It’s not a question—I can tell they worship him, even if he won’t admit it himself. “And you like them.”
“They’re not bad.” He shrugs, clearly trying to play cool. “I enjoy seeing them excited. They’re not jaded or full of themselves—they just have this passion for creating. And I like helping them.”
“They’re lucky to have you. They looked stoked about getting their artwork featured, too.”
“I have you to thank for that.”
My brows furrow. “You made that happen.”
“The town is a big part of Desert Daze because you stood by what you believed in. And I’m glad for it.” He sticks both hands in his pockets and clears his throat. “If this had happened when I was in high school, it would have been the coolest thing.”
I think of young Max participating in an exhibit like ours, and how he wouldn’t have been able to contain his excitement. How would that have changed Harlow for him if he didn’t have to travel halfway around the world to pursue the career he deserved? It’s an opportunity that’s years too late.
We make the rounds on the far side of town.
Shonda’s at the gas station, and she shows me photos from her recent vacation to Aruba.
Dr. Feines greets us at the vet and asks how Freddie is doing.
María at the taco stand doesn’t let us leave without a couple specials of the day.
I like the chance to catch up with everyone, and I loop Max into all the conversations.
With ten minutes left before we need to meet with the students, we turn around and walk shoulder to shoulder on the sidewalk toward our last stop.
“Harlow’s one big Daisy Johnson fan club,” Max says.
“Please.”
“People light up when they see you.”
I shrug. “Sometimes I get so preoccupied with the hotel that I don’t feel like a great neighbor.”
“You show up for the community. You have conversations that go deeper than surface-level small talk. That’s its own form of support.”
My insides fizz. “Well, it’s how we all thrive.”
When we reach Gwen’s gem store, I stall the last few steps to the door. Max’s hand hovers over the handle, but he pulls back once he notices my hesitation.
“I texted her about the other night,” I admit.
“And all the other nights? And this morning?”
“Max.” Thank goodness for his humor, but also, thoughts of his head between my legs before my morning coffee send a fire to my cheeks. I peer inside to see if Gwen’s working the counter, but a shelf of chunky, jewel-toned rocks blocks my view.
“What’d she say?”
“A bunch of emojis.” A long string of them that could be good or bad—I couldn’t tell and didn’t ask her to clarify. But if she’s upset with me, I shouldn’t let that fester.
“Do you want to go in alone first?”
“No. She’s just acting like the big sister I never had. It’s fine.”
“I was actually asking because I’m scared of her.”
A laugh rips out of me, and his smile sends goosebumps up my arms.
“C’mon,” he says, opening the front door.
I love Gwen, and I know she loves me no matter what choices I make. She’s been there for the bad haircuts, the bad boyfriends, and the bad hires at The Mirage that didn’t work out. But the last Gwen heard, Max and I were a one-night stand with no intention of more. Now we’re…
Well, I don’t have an answer for that. And I might never, and that’s fine, because we both agreed: a good time together, for as long as we can. But I feel like I’ve let my best friend down by not being able to resist Max.
Behind the cash register, she’s perched on a chair while she scribbles notes down. Her left hand rests on her belly. She’s not showing yet, but she should any day soon.
“My favorite person!” She wriggles her butt off the stool and wraps me up in her arms.
“You don’t have to get up for me.” I breathe a sigh of relief at her warm reception.
“You sound like Bob. He’s infuriating.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah. He just won’t let me do anything around the house. Like, if he could bring the toilet to me, he would. I have to remind him I’m pregnant, not incapacitated. He doesn’t have to do everything for me.”
“Sounds awful.”
“I know.” She squeezes my hand, and her eyes skate to Max. She straightens and looks him up and down. “Sooo.”
“So?”
“You and Daze, huh?”
“Me and Daze.”
“I had a feeling about you two.”
“A good one?” Max’s head cocks to the side.
“A complicated one.” The corner of her mouth twists into a smile. “You can leave a stack of flyers at that register. And feel free to pin one on the bulletin board.”
While Max finds a spot on the cork board, Gwen turns to me and mouths, OH MY GOD.
I KNOW, I mouth back. YOU MAD?
A look of shock crosses her face. NO. She points to herself, outlines a heart in the air, and then stabs a finger in my direction, causing us both to smile at each other. She then gives me a thumbs up, and she juts her pointer finger into the O shape of her other hand in a lewd gesture. GOOD SEX?
I bite my lower lip. Amazing sex. Transcendental sex. Still-sore-in-a-good-way sex. I don’t know how to communicate that, so I just nod, and Gwen appears to understand.
YOU, she mouths with her finger directed at me, GOOD? Again with the thumbs up.
I nod once more.
“You two done talking about me?”
Gwen spins to Max with a syrupy sweet smile on her face.
“For now. Daze, call me sometime soon so we can discuss…” She waves her hand in Max’s general direction.
“I want all the details. And you,” she says, turning her attention to him.
“It should go without saying, but if you hurt my friend, I will hurt you.”
“Ohmygod, Gwen.”
“I’m leveling with him. Gotta look out for my Daisy.”
“Love you, Gwen.” I usher Max to the exit.
“Love you, too. And you—just because you’ve got the sensitive Pisces thing going for you doesn’t mean you’re not trouble. I’ve got my eye on you!”
We exit and I close the door behind us, muting Gwen’s loving threats. With a couple minutes to spare, we get back to Max’s students where we started, right on time.
“Mr. Dub!” Xander yells from across the crosswalk. “We need some more flyers for the salon.”
The rambunctious crowd of students inches toward us, and Max hands some of his papers over. “That’s all I’ve got. So how’d it go?”
The students share who they talked to, who said they would show up, and who’s going to bring friends and family. All of them want Max to notice them, enjoying their moment in the spotlight when he looks at them.
I feel like one of those students, soaking up as much of his attention as I can.
Basking in the sun that is Max, until inevitably, that big star in the sky dips below the horizon to where it belongs.
But I can’t ignore the shred of me that’s hoping I’m wrong—that’s wondering if Max might ever change his mind.