“I know who you mean.” He presses his lips to my shoulder. My hand shakes like I’ve had three too many lattes as I stroke his hair.

“I’m not good at this,” he says quietly. “I don’t know how. And I—I’m a little fucked up in a lot of ways.”

“Do you eat babies for breakfast?”

“Tillie Jean.”

“Life doesn’t come with a rule book. The only this in my world is do your best, don’t hurt people on purpose, and find what makes you happy.” I frown. “Do I make you happy?”

He doesn’t answer right away, but I’m realizing it’s not that he’s hiding some terrible truth.

It’s that he needs to think it through.

Find the right words.

And really, it’s not terrible to snuggle in bed with Max Cole while he’s thinking.

“I’ve spent four years actively fighting being attracted to you,” he finally says.

“I have no idea what that’s like.”

He lifts his head, and I swear he’s giving me a growly bear glare, which makes me crack up even more than the easy sarcasm that just rolled off my tongue.

And then my face is being smothered with a pillow, which makes me laugh harder.

“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about.” He’s not sleepy and snuggly anymore.

Nope.

He’s straddling my legs and holding a pillow over my face.

“Uncle,” I call as I move my hands to his knees.

Totally his tickle spot.

I’m not tickling him, for the record.

But we both know I can.

The pillow disappears, and then Max is right there, nose to nose with me. “I used to hate the way you never took anything seriously.”

“Used to?”

“I didn’t hate that you never took anything seriously though. I hated that you had that luxury and I didn’t.”

If Cooper said that to me, I’d point out that he’s a multi-millionaire athlete who’s never had to play for a winning team to live a very comfortable life.

But Max didn’t have the family and community that Cooper has.

I get it.

“I tried Thai food for the first time because of you,” I tell him.

I swear he grins, but he’s settling in next to me again, his head resting in the crook of my neck, his lips moving just right against my skin so I can’t tell if he’s trying to kiss me or just tease me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh my god, you do.”

“Reason number four hundred twenty-six that I hated Tillie Jean Rock—she acted worldly and sophisticated but had never tried Thai food until I mocked her for never having tried Thai food.”

“You have a list of reasons you hate me?”

“A guy’s gotta do something with all that pent-up energy.”

“Most guys would’ve just rubbed it out.”

“Doesn’t always work like it’s supposed to.”

I squirm out from under him and roll to face him. “Just how many reasons did you have to hate me?”

“As many as I needed.”

“Tell me more.”

“Why I hate you is not first date material.”

“We aren’t first date material. Why else? What else is on your list?”

“And look at that. Aunt Bea’s gonna be up any minute now. I better get going.”

“Max.”

He kisses my forehead, then pushes himself up to sit at the edge of the bed. “Tell me you don’t have a list of ten thousand things I hate about Max Cole.”

“Not really.” I push myself up too, watching while he leans over and snags his clothes off the floor. “It mostly all boiled down to you being easy to annoy after all the stuff with you know who, and then it became habit.”

On goes his shirt.

Dammit.

“You brought the whole team low-sugar cranberry almond cookies the second time I saw you. And then you planted singing things in Cooper’s locker, and it was easier to say you were distracting us with cookies for your true nefarious plans than it was to acknowledge that he probably deserved it, and that everyone else on the team respected the hell out of you for pulling it off, and also that it was really nice of you to bring sweets that fit into our normal diets.”

“You know it’s hot when you use big words like nefarious?”

He sends me a look over his shoulder.

Definitely growly bear.

So I climb to my knees and crawl across the bed and loop my arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss to his neck. “We’re all a little complicated.”

“You cried when Joey Ortiz got traded.”

“His wife was even sweeter than Henri, which shouldn’t be possible, but I swear it’s true, and I got to babysit their oldest when the youngest was born. We still text from time to time.”

“You got to babysit. I would never count that as a bonus, but you do.” He leans back against me. “I’m tired of telling myself that you can do stuff like that because you’re spoiled, when the truth is, I’ve spent four years afraid if I let you in, I’d find out I don’t deserve all the things you do for your friends.” He grunts. “And your brother really is one of the best friends I’ve ever had, even if he wouldn’t say the same about me. You’re right. He really wouldn’t want to know what we did here tonight. Don’t blame him either.”

“You know that you don’t have to grow up with a good family to understand what makes a family, right?”

“I know how to play baseball and be on a team. Everything else—no. I really don’t. But I want to.” He sighs. “Sorry. I get too honest when I haven’t had enough sleep.”

“Honest is good. Honest is always good.”

He’s quiet again.

I like quiet Max. And naked Max. And growly Max.

Basically, all of the Maxes. I like them all.

“You free after ten tonight?” he asks.

“Max Cole, are you asking me over for a booty call?”

“Yep.”

“I think I can clear my schedule.”

He shifts to turn and kiss me—soft, thorough, and handsy—and then he’s gone, slipping through my house and out the back door, back to his own place, where we’ll pretend all day long that last night didn’t happen.

Until we can do it again.

And that nagging little voice at the back of my head, telling me I’m playing with fire by risking interfering with the Fireballs’ team dynamics—that little voice is wrong.

Everything will be just fine.

And that’s the lie that helps me fall back asleep before I need to be up in a few hours for senior aerobics.

29

Max

I always thought sex with the same woman night after night would get boring.

That it would get old.

But a few weeks into this thing with Tillie Jean, the only thing getting old is sneaking around. The grumpiness that used to come easily around her takes effort. I don’t want to be grumpy.

I want to be the guy who keeps smiling after I leave my house in the morning. I want to be the guy who laughs when she cracks a good joke on the days when I have lunch at Crusty Nut with the guys. I want to say yes to heading up to Cooper’s place for game night when I know she’ll be there.