An Ounce of Hope (A Pound of Flesh #2)(117)

Max was sitting on his sofa, cell phone to his ear, his bare feet kicked up on the coffee table. “Can I do anything to help?” he asked. “I could, I don’t know, maybe talk to him.”

Grace had laughed nervously. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, but I appreciate the offer. He’ll come around. If he knows I’m happy and safe, he’ll get over it.”

“You’re safe with me.”

“I know.”

Max had swallowed, sensing they were teetering over the line Grace had drawn between the two of them weeks ago. “Do I make you happy?”

She’d paused before saying, “Yes.”

Max and Riley threw themselves into organizing Carter’s bachelor party, which ended up being a riotous two-day affair in Vegas. Max was more than a little warmed by the fact that Carter, Riley, and of course Tate, whom Max had invited, refrained from drinking in his company. By the second night, however, after a day by the pool, Max forced a tequila into Carter’s hand, teasing him mercilessly about how he deserved it for agreeing to subject himself to a life of servitude. There’d been a manly hug and backslap and Carter had knocked that shit back like he’d been desperate for it.

It was followed by five more.

As Carter had requested, there were no strippers, much to Riley’s upset. Instead, the ten members of the party enjoyed good food, good wine, scorching-hot weather, and lots and lots of gambling. Max couldn’t deny that he’d enjoyed himself, even if it had been hard being in a club not drinking, but his friends were never too far away, encouraging and helping him through it. Max understood that this was how his life would always be, for better or for worse, and as he watched Riley grinding up against a bunch of girls while the others laughed and egged him on, Max realized he was okay with that.

He didn’t mind being the designated driver, and he didn’t mind helping Carter pull up Kat’s cell phone number so that he could call her and tell her how much he was missing her. For one fleeting moment, as Carter rambled and slurred down the phone, and Kat’s laughter echoed from the earpiece, Max wondered how Grace would feel if he called to tell her the same.

Three days after they all returned safely to New York, resolute and with a f*ck-it-who-cares attitude, Max called Grace and asked her outright, “When can I see you?”

The line was silent for a beat before she replied. “You want to see me?”

Max scoffed and dropped down onto the sofa. “Grace,” he sighed. “I need to see you.” He played with a loose thread hanging from the bottom of his T-shirt. “It’s been weeks and I know I said I’d give you time but . . .”

“But what?”

Max cupped a hand to his forehead. “I miss you.”

Her breath caught. “I miss you, too.”

“Then come,” Max insisted, sitting forward. “Come to New York. Or I can come to you, whatever you want.”

“How, I’m working? It’s Thursday night. Isn’t it Carter’s wedding this weekend?”

Max smacked a palm against the chair arm. “Fuck.” How could he forget that? Some best friend he was. They had a rehearsal dinner tomorrow and then the wedding was Saturday. He still had to run through his best man’s speech.

Grace laughed softly. “It’s okay.”

“Sunday?”

“I can’t. I’m in DC with Kai.”

Max exhaled heavily and slumped back in his seat. “Next week then.”

Grace hummed. “Next week it is.”

Max could count on his fingers the amount of times he’d seen Carter lose his shit. Despite his reputation, Max’s best friend was fairly chill about most things. His wedding day, however, was not one of them. Max couldn’t remember seeing Carter so flustered and, honestly, it was funny as f*ck.

“Stop laughing and help me, *s!” Carter exclaimed from his place by a full-length mirror where he’d been battling with his peach-colored tie for at least fifteen minutes. “I’m useless at these f*ckin’ things.”

Max snorted from his spot in the doorway next to Riley and approached, swatting Carter’s hands away and tying the tie from behind, his arms reaching over Carter’s shoulders. He smiled widely at his friend in the mirror.

“Fuck off,” Carter grumbled, rolling his eyes. “I know you love seeing me like this.”

“You bet your ass,” Max commented. He adjusted the perfect knot of the tie at Carter’s throat and patted his friend’s belly twice. “Done.” Carter exhaled and nodded as Max stepped back.

“Have another drink,” Max offered, reaching for a half-filled champagne flute and passing it to him. There were hundreds of them dotted around the beach house, left by the various people milling about. Max wasn’t sure he’d ever seen so many busy people.

Carter knocked the drink back and sighed. He glanced at the large watch on his wrist and swallowed audibly. It was showtime in fifteen minutes. Max chuckled and handed him his gray suit jacket. “Dude, relax, you’d think you were due in court.”

“No,” Carter answered, with a finger pointed in Max’s face. “There’s no way I’d be this nervous if that was the case.”

Both Riley and Max laughed. Max glanced back at Riley, who, understanding the need for the two best friends to have a moment, nodded and snuck out of the room, closing the door behind him.