Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
ANNIE
The low vibration of the window AC unit in Max’s bedroom hummed with an insect-like persistence, the noise mixing with the remnants of Annie’s dream still caught in her inbetween state of waking and sleeping.
Morning light poured through the window wedged open by the aforementioned appliance pumping chilled air into the bedroom.
After the first time Annie slept over on a summer night, they learned that Max’s tiny bedroom, coupled with Annie’s propensity to run warm, made for one sweaty sleep.
The next time she had stayed over, Annie noticed that the window unit that typically lived in the front room had been moved back into the bedroom, with Max simply saying that if she were cold, she’d bundle up because it was important to her that Annie got a good night’s sleep.
The reminder of Max’s thoughtfulness caused a lazy smile to spread across her cheeks.
Rolling over, her hand stretched across empty raspberry pink bedsheets, resting on the spot where Max had been.
She sighed, still smiling as she sat up, stretching her arms overhead and bending her torso into a half-moon shape.
For the two weeks since her parents’ Fourth of July party, Annie had spent her nights bouncing between her brother’s house and Max’s cozy bedroom.
Annie had been the first to propose she stay with her brother while she figured out what to do about her parents.
She didn’t want Max to feel like she was trying to move in sneakily—no, that was a question Annie very much wanted to have a more serious, planned conversation about.
So until that time, this plan was working.
It was a comfortable, albeit temporary, rhythm that Annie wanted to make more permanent.
Jingling keys and the sound of the front door sticking on its hinges alerted Annie to her girlfriend’s return.
Max, she had been surprised to learn, went for a run most mornings.
The mental image of Max in a tight sports bra and shorter-than-short running shorts, glistening with the finest sheen of sweat, flashed through her mind.
The bathroom door opened and closed, the distinct whistling of the old pipes following. Annie slipped out of bed, grabbing the comfy clothes she knew Max preferred to wear around the apartment while getting ready for work.
She made her way through the kitchen and down the tiny hallway to the bathroom.
Max was already in the shower when she entered; for a brief moment Annie felt a flash of disappointment that she had missed seeing Max’s post-workout naked body, but she pushed that aside.
There would be plenty of time for that later.
“Good morning,” she sing-songed, setting Max’s clothes on the lid of the closed toilet seat, perching on the vanity counter. “I grabbed you some clothes. How was your run?”
There was something about this that felt so…easy. Max would run in the mornings and when she got home, Annie would hang out with her in the bathroom to download while she showered. It was a rhythm they had fallen into that felt like second nature.
Max’s head popped out from behind the shower curtain, dark hair sopping wet against her head, blue eyes shining, water droplets trailing over her square jawline and a firm smile planted on her lips.
“Hey. How did you sleep? Did I wake you up when I got back? I tried to be quiet. Run was good. Got in a solid eight miles until I started feeling the heat.” Her hand dropped the pink linen fabric of the shower curtain as she stepped back under the spray of water.
“I was already up. You were very stealthy this morning. I didn’t even hear you sneak out. I’m honestly not sure how I feel about that.”
“The most sneaking out I’m doing these days is either to go work out or to get you a sweet treat,” Max retorted.
“Oh, I’m not complaining.” Annie crossed one leg over the other as another question she wanted to ask Max popped into her brain. “Did that architect, Logan, ever get back to you?”
Logan Matherson was a very accomplished friend of Annie’s brothers who just so happened to be located in Michigan.
Her brother may have connected them after Annie had a very strategic hypothetical conversation with him over wine one evening last month, during which she happened to ask a plethora of hyper-specific questions about Max’s current situation.
Three days later, she was passing along Max’s contact information.
“Yeah.” Max laughed. “She can be a bit spacey sometimes and getting her to answer an email is a nightmare, but man, is she fucking great at her job. Where did you find her again? Hang on, one sec.” Splashing water accompanied her words.
“Uh, you know. A good ol’ fashioned Google search,” she said, her voice a little higher than her baseline—her completely obvious tell for when she was lying.
She felt bad about the lie. Really, she did. But was it really a lie when her intentions were good?
Following the audit, they had decided that for the next year, Max would run the vineyard exactly as it had been operating.
She’d sell the harvest to another local winery at wholesale cost and use the profits to continue to maintain the property.
That was phase one. Phase two was when Max’s dream would really start to take shape, and the first step was to work with an architect to draw up plans.
Annie wanted to make sure Max had access to the best, so she went and got the best. But she was fairly confident Drew had picked up on the fact that there was more reality than hypothetical nature to her questioning.
Whether he knew or not, Annie didn’t know for sure because, in his quintessentially Drew way, he kept his mouth shut—and for that, she was grateful.
“Amazing find. Logan is flying through the design for the barn conversion.” The steady whistle from the pipes petered out as Max shut off the water, a hand reaching for the towel hanging on the wall.
Annie couldn’t help the way her eyes fixed on Max as she carefully pushed the curtain back, water droplets chasing each other down lanky freckled limbs. Max twisted her hair, wringing out the excess water.
“Toss me that towel?” Max motioned to the one hanging on the hook nearest her and Annie obliged.
“You know, towel drying your hair is going to do more damage than good.”
Max only grinned, ignoring Annie’s comment and bringing the fluffy white towel to her head, rubbing vigorously.
Annie rolled her eyes, hands gripping the edge of the cool laminate countertop as Max stepped out of the tub towards her.
She lowered her legs, spreading them to create the perfect amount of space for Max to slide into.
“Good morning.” Max’s words melted together in a swirl of excited breath and parted lips as she leaned in to steal a kiss.
Annie wrapped her arms around her neck, deepening the kiss, enjoying the way Max’s breath caught as her fingernails lightly scraped her scalp.
“Good morning indeed.” Annie’s grin was wide, and she couldn’t contain her giggle when Max pulled back and placed the tiniest kiss on the tip of her nose.
“Have I told you recently how much I appreciate you?” Max hummed while Annie’s eyes traced her features in her attempt to memorize the exact placement of every freckle.
“You have.” She glanced down, a small smile spreading as Max’s words landed softly on her ears. Max’s appreciation was like little rays of sunshine pushing through her tired cracks, warming the parts of her that hadn’t seen the light in years.
Max reached up, brushing Annie’s cheek with the back of her fingertips, a whisper of skin against skin.
“I mean it. I have been sitting on this Michigan opportunity for years, paralyzed by fear.” Soft lips brushed the tip of her nose again.
“I got stuck trying to figure out how to make the big picture work—how to turn the land into a fully functional winery and how much money that would cost—to the point where I wanted to sell it to get it off the list of things taking up space in my brain. But then I met you, and after looking at my giant tangled mess for like thirty seconds, you saw the stepping stones to my dream.” Max laughed.
“This feels so corny to say, but what the hell. You’ve helped me see the full picture, Annie. I couldn’t have done that without you.”
Annie’s arms rested loosely on Max’s bare shoulders, head tilted as she listened, hoping to hear the question she wanted Max to ask. But it didn’t come.
“I’m really good at solving complex problems.” Annie shrugged, attempting to hide her disappointment. But Max caught it.
“What’s wrong?” Concern filled her eyes as gentle fingers traced along Annie’s sides.
“Nothing.” Annie quickly tried to hide the outward expression of her disappointment.
Max tilted her chin down, narrowing her eyes. “Something’s wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong,” Annie assured her. “I promise.” She held Max’s gaze, a pang of guilt twisting at the concern that still lived here.
But if Max wanted to say more, she didn’t. Instead, she kissed her again, soft and sweet, before stepping out of her arms. Annie hopped off the counter, the two of them reaching for their respective toothbrushes.
They eventually made their way into the kitchen, Max grabbing everything they would need to make yogurt bowls. Annie moved towards the dishwasher, the two of them shifting around each other comfortably in the little space.
“You’re still free on Thursday at two, right?” Max said offhandedly as she cut a banana into even slices.
Ah yes, the super-secret thing Max refused to tell her about.
Annie slid a hand over Max’s hip, reaching around her to place a bowl in the cabinet above her.
“Yup. Still would love to know what we’re doing…
” Her voice was hopeful, the same way it was every time she had pressed her girlfriend for more details about the mystery.
But Max, Annie had learned, was good at keeping a tight lip.