Follow Me(78)

But lately my radar had been malfunctioning. I’d been completely surprised by Lawrence’s behavior; I was shocked to discover Nick was harboring some sort of unrequited love. And so I didn’t trust my gut when it came to Max. My instinct was to believe that someone who looked at me as tenderly as he did couldn’t be anything other than genuine, but then I remembered those creepy surveillance photos of me on his computer and I wasn’t sure of anything.

I was about to push myself back from the table a fifth time when I looked up to see Max loping into the coffee shop, looking more rumpled than usual. My heart twisted, and I had to fight my natural inclination to greet him with a kiss.

“Hey,” he said uncertainly, lowering himself into a seat across from me. He flashed me a quick smile that didn’t reach his red-rimmed eyes. “Thanks for meeting me.”

My fingers longed to reach out and touch the soft edges of his vintage Ramones T-shirt, the one I had worn to sleep so many times I could practically feel it now on my body, but I held myself back. I lifted my chin and looked at him squarely, keeping my voice steady as I said, “You should be thanking Cat. She’s the one who convinced me I should hear your side of things.”

He nodded mutely.

“I trusted you, Max,” I said quietly, my voice betraying me and breaking. “I don’t know what to think.”

“Help me out, Audrey,” he said, his eyes searching mine. “I don’t know what we’re talking about. What happened? When I left, you were naked in my bed, and when I came back, you were gone and no longer taking my calls. What changed?”

“I found the pictures.”

“What pictures?” he asked, his face so open, so confused, that for a split second I wondered if I had imagined the whole thing. But then I recalled the shock of opening that folder and seeing rows upon rows of digital images of myself, and anger flared inside me.

“Come on, Max,” I snapped. “You know what pictures I mean. The ones on your computer. The ones of me.”

“Oh,” he said, casting his eyes down to the scratched table. “Those.”

“Those.”

He nodded dumbly. “Yeah. Jeez, Audrey, I can understand why those might have freaked you out. But they’re not what you think.”

“Then tell me what they are,” I said, allowing myself a flicker of hope that there might be an innocent explanation, that I hadn’t been so wrong, so completely and utterly wrong, about this man.

“Don’t freak out, okay? But I found those online.”

“What? Online where?”

“When we first started dating, I . . . well, I Googled you. I was really into you, and I wanted to know what I was getting myself into.” He smiled weakly. “I didn’t want to fall in love with you only to find out you had a secret husband or were wanted in six states.”

I refused to let myself smile at his joke. “There’s no way you found those photos in a simple Google search. I’ve had a Google alert set up for my name for years, and I’ve never seen them.”

“I didn’t find them right away. I had some trouble with my search at first. There were more people named Audrey Miller than I expected, so I had to try something different. I pulled some images from your social media profiles and did a reverse image search. That was when I found them.”

“I still don’t understand. Where did you find them?”

He shook his head. “A gross site you don’t want to know about.”

I shuddered, not wanting to imagine what kind of site would be so gross that Max couldn’t tell me about it. “Are they still there?”

“No, I took care of it. I called one of my friends who is . . . well, he’s a hacker. He broke into the site and removed your pictures. I also asked him if he could trace where they originated, but he hasn’t been able to do so thus far.”

“Max . . .” I started, unsure what I wanted to say. It’s not like I didn’t believe him. Of course I believed him; he was my boyfriend. But . . . there was something that felt sketchy about his explanation. There was something he wasn’t telling me.

“I don’t like you keeping things from me,” I finally said.

“I know,” he said miserably, hanging his head. “And I’m sorry. I was just afraid you were going to think I was some weirdo for looking you up.”

“Of course you looked me up. I did the same to you. Googling someone before you date them is normal. Finding out that person has a fucking stalker and then keeping that information to yourself, however, is not.”

He nodded, swallowing so hard I saw his throat move. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough. You knew how scared I was about everything that had been happening at my apartment, and you had additional information that you kept to yourself. You should have told me. We could have given that evidence to the police, and this creep, whoever he is, could be behind bars right now.”

“The police don’t have the resources my friend does,” Max protested. “I told you, he’s working on it.”

“Excuse me if I don’t trust your nameless, never-before-mentioned friend with my life. I mean, for God’s sake, Max, this is serious. Don’t you remember what happened to Rosalind?”

“Audrey, that’s why I couldn’t tell you. You were so consumed with that exhibit that I knew you’d see parallels where there were none and freak out.” He took a deep breath and leaned across the table, taking my hands. “I messed up, I get it. And I’m sorry. But you have to know that I love you. I love you so much, Audrey. I would do anything for you. Anything. I made a mistake, I see that now, but you have to believe me when I say it was a mistake that I made for you.”