“And the fact that I’m getting older,” Grady said with full Wet Cat Face.
Max whistled under his breath. “You didn’t fire her for that?”
“Jess would be sad if I killed her.”
Grady’s trainer must be someone Jess knew through hockey somehow. “How noble.” Max leaned down and planted a smacking kiss on his lips. “Don’t worry. You’re going to be super hot when you start going gray.”
“’Cause that’s what I was worried about,” Grady grumbled, but he was smiling, so whatever. Max’s distraction totally worked. “Anyway, you mentioned lunch?”
Maxhadmentioned lunch, but as it turned out, they’d eaten their way through the stockpile of food his parents had delivered, and Grady’s vegetable garden wasn’t going to be yielding enough for a meal for some time yet.
They should get chickens, Max thought, to go with the vegetable garden. Grady was obsessed with farm-fresh eggs. Unfortunately, after tasting the difference, now Max was too. If they had chickens, they wouldn’t have to go shopping. They could just raid the nests in the coop.
Something told Max Grady would have a bird if Max suggested it, even though he probably harbored secret designs of becoming an egg farmer. Max tucked this suspicion away for a time when he could use it to his best advantage.
“I think we have to go into town,” he told the inside of his refrigerator.
“We were going to have to do that anyway.”
“For lunch, I mean.” He stepped back to allow Grady to view the contents of the fridge, which included condiments and assorted sports drinks and not much else. They didn’t even have beer. He closed the door. “You ready for that?” Going out in Moncton for the first time, after a nearly decade-long rivalry with a recognizable hometown hero—much as the moniker embarrassed Max—could be an interesting experience.
Grady squared his shoulders in determination. “Gotta happen sometime.”
Max grinned. “That’s the spirit.”
The drive into town was quiet, apart from the occasional rattle of the grocery bins Max had put in the back of the SUV. Grady had looked at them fondly, as though Max were personally saving the environment on purpose and didn’t just have the boxes because they held more than reusable shopping bags and were easier to remember.
Max tapped his fingers on the wheel and thought vaguely about the future. A fancy restaurant was a classic proposal setting, right? Little Louis’ Oyster Bar was about as fancy as New Brunswick could get, and he already knew Grady loved seafood. He could probably get away with taking him there without Grady getting suspicious.
Of course, if Max reserved a table, the whole town would know about it in five minutes. Actually any public venue was probably out for asking Grady to marry him unless he wanted the entire world to know immediately.
Max kind of wanted the entire world to know immediately, but he felt like Grady would want to tell his sister in person, so he reluctantly struck the idea from the list and went back to the drawing board.
For lunch he chose a tasty but not particularly trendy place, figuring he might as well ease Grady into the experience of being Max’s nemesis-turned-boyfriend on Max’s home turf. The host did a double-take when she saw them, but she recovered quickly. “Hi. Um, table for two?”
Max smiled and was about to thank her and agree, but Grady beat him to the punch. “That would be great. Thanks, Sarah.” Wow, read the name tag and everything.
Max waited until they’d been seated and Sarah had left before commenting, “Turning on the charm? I’m surprised you didn’t pull my chair out.”
They’d been seated in a booth. Grady eyed said booth pointedly. “I can be charming.” But his cheeks were a little flushed, and the words came out tinted with defensiveness. “You know I’m not rude to serving staff.”
Max pressed his knee against Grady’s. “I know.” Apparently he’d touched a nerve. “I was teasing.” He teased Grady all the time.
Maybe he should tease him less?
But no—Grady was already nodding, like he knew he was being weird, his shoulders hunched in a bit, so he was going to admit something embarrassing. “I just want people here to like me.”
Okay, well, Max just wanted his heart to keep beating for the next thirty seconds without killing him. “You don’t care if people like you,” he croaked through a suddenly dry throat.
Grady pressed back against Max’s leg. “Youcare if people like me.”
Fuck it, Max really did. Which was ridiculous, really—he was used to being a little too loud, too much, too boisterous, and he did it on purpose to drive off people who couldn’t handle him at his real intensity before he could get attached to them. And sure, Max cared what people thought about him. He didn’t want people to think he was a jerk, but he accepted that he wasn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea.
But everyone should love Grady. Grady had had a tough life and gotten a reputation for being a grumpy asshole—which he mostly deserved. But he also deserved to be loved. Max wanted him to feel loved here the way Max felt loved here.
It seemed like Grady wanted that too.
Suck it, Max’s ego said to his anxiety.
