The Bucket List Boyfriend (Boston Love #3)

Chapter 8

Max

THE AROMA of coffee and maple syrup hangs in the air as I sit between Ethan and James, staring out at the Boston Common.

It’s been a while since the three of us got together without someone rushing off to the next thing, so I’m trying to enjoy it— although the way James keeps drumming his fingers on the table tells me he’s already thinking about his next meeting.

Ethan, meanwhile, is deep in a debate with our server over the merits of sourdough versus rye toast, and I’m just waiting for someone to ask me how things are going with Maya and the bucket list. I know it’s coming.

When the waitress leaves I jump in with a little piece of gossip I heard from Mr Carson, before I start getting questioned myself.

“So you finally managed to convince Marley to do the beach house renovation with you, huh? I’d love to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation,” I tell Ethan.

“Conversations. Plural.” He sends an unimpressed look my way. “Many, many painful conversations. And even after all that, I wasn’t able to convince her. It took her making a call to Mr Carson. I don’t know what the old guy told her, but it was enough to convince her to do it.”

“He probably told her about the tidy sum she’d make from the project. Hard to turn down a huge amount of cash like that when you’re a small business owner,” James says.

The waitress returns with our breakfast and we tuck in, although it doesn’t take long for the conversation to get back to Ethan and Marley and the beach house renovation.

“So have you actually seen her in person yet?”

“No.” Ethan looks uncomfortable and I know that’s not because of the sourdough. “We’ll meet at the beach house next week.”

“If I didn’t have some important meetings planned for next week, I’d come to watch the fireworks.” James laughs.

“Sounds like a great idea. I could bring the popcorn. It’s going to be an epic reunion.”

Ethan shoots an annoyed look at both of us.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence guys! Anyway, that’s enough about me.”

Poor Ethan is desperate to change the topic. Thinking of Marley makes my happy-go-lucky brother depressed.

“What about you guys? James, have you asked anyone to marry you yet?”

James freezes, a forkful of scrambled eggs halfway to his mouth and glances at me, obviously thinking back to our conversation about Sophie.

“Not yet. I’m still deciding,” he hedges.

Ethan winks at me when James is not looking and decides to poke the bear a bit.

“Oh, come on! You have a revolving door of women to choose from. You’re dating a new woman every week. What about that girl with the Italian name who was a supermodel or something?”

“Francesca Conti,” I fill in.

“Yes, her. Or, ooooh…I know! What about that crazy blonde who was showing you the types of engagement rings she likes on the first date and made a Photoshop image of what your future kids would look like on the second date? She’ll say yes for sure. There were quite a few of them angling for a ring from one of Boston’s most eligible bachelors. You have your pick of the ladies.”

After that little speech, it’s Ethan’s turn to end up on the receiving end of a very unimpressed glare.

There is some truth to what he’s saying. James has a magic touch with women. He’s surly but the ladies still love him. It boggles the mind.

I’m told by Maya and Sophie that he’s so popular with the ladies because he gives off untouchable billionaire CEO vibes, but I’m not so sure. I’m still confused by the appeal. Even when he breaks it off after one or two dates, they still sing his praises.

Except of course the crazy blond Ethan mentioned. I vaguely recall a restraining order was involved in that situation.

“For your information, Ethan, I haven’t been on a date in…a while. And the absolute last thing I need is some airhead leech who just wants to marry me for my money. I’d never be able to get rid of her, or I’d have to pay her a heck of a lot of money.”

“Well that’s not a very nice way to speak about the women you’ve dated, now is it? And supposing it is true, what does that say about your taste in women?”

Granted, the women James usually dates don’t strike me as the most intelligent—they’re more the arm candy type—but I don’t know why Ethan insists on needling James like this.

No wonder these two always used to end up wrestling when we were kids. I’m surprised more blood wasn’t spilled.

“Well, I didn’t know that they were like that when I first took them out, did I?” James waves his fork around in the air before spearing his eggs aggressively. “It’s one of the reasons most of them didn’t go beyond a first date.”

“Don’t mind Ethan,” I tell him. “He’s just trying to rile you up.”

“So what is the plan then?” Ethan asks.

“Well…” James takes a deep breath and puts his fork down. “I was thinking about asking Sophie. She’s the only one who really knows me. And we work together every day, so I already know she won’t drive me crazy. So how would you feel having Sophie as a sister-in-law for a year?”

“We love Sophie. I think that’s a great idea,” I tell him.

James looks at Ethan and sighs.

“Why do you look so smug, Ethan?”

James’s question makes me turn my gaze to Ethan who is sitting back in his chair with his arms folded, looking extremely pleased with himself.

“Of course we knew you’d end up asking Sophie. The real question is whether she’ll say yes or not. As you said, she’s the only person who really knows you, so…”

James punches Ethan’s arm firmly, making Ethan laugh and back away.

“Okay, okay.” He raises his hands in defense. “I’m just saying, she might not agree. She doesn’t seem the type to take marriage vows lightly.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I try to encourage James. “I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

“Speaking of the will…how is the bucket list going? Three down, seven to go?”

James is clearly tired of talking about Sophie too.

“Yeah. Hiking, ziplining, and karaoke have been checked off the list.”

“I’m sorry to have missed the karaoke,” Ethan says before taking another huge bite of his breakfast sandwich. That doesn’t stop him from adding, “Did the crowd mistake you for a moose with laryngitis?”

James smacks Ethan upside the head.

“Stop talking with your mouth full. It’s rude.”

Ethan just laughs, and I ignore his jab because I’m just glad he’s back to his jovial self now that we’re not talking about Marley.

“Actually, I sang like an angel. Maya said I sounded like a pro.”

“Maya is your best friend,” James says. “Of course she’s going to say that. She’s biased. You could sound like a dying cat and she’d praise you.”

“Yeah,” Ethan agrees. “I distinctly remember when you were eleven and tried to bake homemade cookies from scratch and they came out as hard as rocks. Maya said they were awesome and threatened to cut off our balls if we suggested otherwise.”

The memory of petite little Maya constantly defending me when we were kids, while simultaneously putting the fear of God in my brothers makes me smile.

“Okay, okay. I see your point. But she wasn’t the only one who said I was good.”

“I’m going to have to hear it to believe it,” James says.

“Well that’s easy. I’ll send you the video.”

“No way! Videos can be edited. We need to see you live in action. Let’s make a date for a karaoke night!” Ethan suggests, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I’ll text you dates that work for me,” James says.

The last thing I feel like doing is being on the stage again, but thanks to my little karaoke adventure last week, I know that I’m fully capable of doing it. Even without Maya there, I know I’ll be okay.

“Fine.” I toss my napkin on the table as I finish my food. “But what are you two going to reward me with for serenading you?”

James and Ethan look at each other and then at me, wide-eyed.

“You’re really going to sing again?” James asks.

“Holy guacamole! Who are you, and what have you done with Max?”

“This bucket list really is changing our little brother.” James looks thoughtful.

“Enough to make him finally confess his love for Maya?” Ethan asks with a grin.

“Not yet…but, I’m working on it.”

Ethan chuckles and shakes his head.

“Bro, you’ve been working on it since you were sixteen. I won’t hold my breath.”

The memory of the summer I realized I was in love with Maya is fresh in my mind.

We hadn’t seen her for six months because she’d been traveling with her parents. And when they came back that summer, little Maya Sinclair was all grown up.

12 years earlier

I pace back and forth in my room, glancing at the clock every few minutes, wishing the time away.

Maya’s coming back today. Six months without her—six long months of just texts and emails. I’ve missed my best friend more than I thought possible.

Life is very dull without Maya around. Now, she’s finally home for the summer.

When my phone chimes with a text from her, I grab my backpack and race down the stairs, bumping into Ethan on the way.

“Woah. Where’s the fire?”

“Sorry. Gotta go.” I shout over my shoulder and don’t slow my step.

As I’m heading out the door toward the side of the house, I faintly hear him ask James, “What’s up with Max?”

“Maya’s home today.”

“Ah! That’s the fire.”

I get on my bike and pedal hard toward the pond.

We’ve spent so many summers there, racing each other across the water, seeing who could hold their breath the longest, or just lying in the grass talking about life.

Today there is a nervous energy buzzing inside me because life is always more colorful with Maya around.

As I round the corner and the pond comes into view, I spot Maya sitting on the dock, her feet dangling in the water.

Her brown hair is longer, sun-streaked, and it falls in loose waves over her shoulders. The oversized baseball cap she always used to wear is gone, along with her usual cut-off shorts and baggy t-shirt. She’s wearing a short white sundress. It makes her look… elegant?

I shake my head, trying to clear it, but as I get closer, I realize it’s not just the dress. Everything about her looks different.

She stands up when she sees me, and I almost lose my balance on the bike.

Maya’s always been pretty, even with her wild hair, but now—now she’s beautiful.

Gone is the wild tomboy. Fifteen-year-old Maya has filled out in all the right places. Her short dress shows off her tanned, toned legs in a way that makes my mouth go dry.

She waves at me and then ties her hair up in a messy bun with a band that was on her wrist.

I stop the bike and adjust my glasses as I stare at her for a second, my brain struggling to catch up with what my eyes are seeing.

“Max!” she calls out, flashing me that familiar smile. “Took you long enough!”

I manage to dismount the bike without completely embarrassing myself and walk toward her, trying to act normal. But everything feels off. My heart’s pounding for some reason, and my palms are sweating.

This is Maya, my best friend. So why am I so nervous?

“Hey, Maya,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t crack. “You look… different.”

She laughs, and it’s the same laugh I’ve always loved—bright, carefree, and a little mischievous.

“Six months can do that to a person. You look different too, you know.” She sizes me up and then clears her throat. “Taller, maybe.”

“Yeah, well, I guess we’ve both changed a little.” I try to sound casual, but inside, I’m freaking out.

How is it possible that the pint-size firecracker I’ve known since she was seven has transformed into this… this stunning young woman in just half a year?

Before I can comprehend what’s happening, Maya kicks off her flip-flops and starts unfastening the buttons that run down the front of her pretty dress.

My mouth pops open and judging by the heat I can feel in my face, my cheeks must be beet red. I quickly look away.

“Uh…what are you…uh…”

I’m so flustered I can’t even get a sentence out.

Maya laughs, and when I hear the swish of the fabric hitting the dock, it takes all my self-control not to look in her direction.

“Race you to the dock on the other side,” Maya says.

I turn in time to see a bikini-clad Maya dive off the end of the dock.

I shake my head and chuckle before pulling off my shirt, which I stuff into my backpack, along with my glasses.

There’s no point in hurrying. In the eight years I’ve known Maya, I’ve never once beaten her in a race…in water or on land. That wasn’t about to change. But it doesn’t stop me from following her anyway.

My dive off the end of the dock isn’t nearly as elegant as Maya’s.

When I finally reach the other side of the pond, I look up to find Maya standing in the chest-high water smiling at me.

“You had a head start. I could easily have taken you if it were a fair race,” I tease.

We both know full well that there’s no way I would ever beat Maya in any athletic feat.

“I love your confidence Max,” Maya says with a grin and playfully splashes me before throwing herself at me.

I suck in a breath as I catch her, wrapping my arms around her and she squeezes me back as she wraps her legs around my waist.

“I’ve missed you, Max.” She speaks into my neck and I have to suppress a shiver.

“I missed you too. There was nobody to protect me from my brothers.”

She laughs and pulls away and I’m left a little disappointed at the loss of contact.

We spend the day swimming in the pond, splashing each other, and playing our old games.

We may be doing the same things we’ve done every summer, but it’s not the same. This time, I’m hyper-aware of everything about her now—how her laughter seems more melodic, how graceful she is in the water, how her smile makes my stomach flip in a way it never did before.

I try to push the thoughts away, telling myself it’s just because I haven’t seen her in so long, but the feeling only grows stronger as the day goes on.

When it starts to cool, we get out of the water and dry off on the grass.

The sky above us shifts from soft pink to a deep orange, and I can feel the cool grass beneath my back.

Maya is lying beside me, her damp hair spread out like dark ribbons across the ground. We’ve been silent for a while, just watching the sky, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable.

It never does with her.

“What do you want to do with your life, Max? Where do you see yourself in ten years?” she asks suddenly, her voice soft but curious.

I turn my head to look at her, surprised by the question. “I’m going to work with computers.”

“I don’t mean just for your job,” she clarifies. “What do you think your life will look like?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, staring back up at the sky. “I guess I’ve never really thought about it much.”

“You’ve never thought about other dreams? What you want? What about having a family? I thought you’d have everything all planned out.”

She sounds almost disappointed, but there’s an understanding in her tone, like she knows why.

I hesitate, swallowing down the lump in my throat.

“I’ve planned out my career, but everything else…Maybe I don’t let myself think about it too much. After my parents…I guess I just stopped imagining things like that.” My voice falters, and I feel exposed in a way I usually don’t.

There’s a long pause before Maya speaks again. “You can’t stop dreaming because of that, Max. They’d want you to live, not just... exist. And by live, I don’t mean plan out every last thing down to the smallest detail. You can’t let the fear of what if hold you back.” Her words are quiet, but they hit me like a punch to the gut.

She’s the only one who ever says stuff like this to me, the only one who makes me feel like it’s okay to talk about them, about anything.

I take a deep breath and turn my head again, really looking at her this time. The fading sunlight paints her face in golden hues, and for a moment, I forget how to speak.

“What about you?” I ask, my voice quieter than I intended. “What do you want?”

Maya smiles faintly, her gaze still on the sky.

“I want people to stop judging me based on who my parents are. I want to feel alive. Do things that scare me, things that make my heart race. I don’t want to play it safe.” She pauses, and when she turns her head to meet my eyes, her expression softens. “But I want to do it with people who matter. You know?”

I nod, my chest tightening with something I can’t quite name. I’ve never had to say it out loud, but right now, lying here with her, I know—she’s the person who matters most.

I’m trying to focus on the clouds instead of how close she is. But then she shifts, looking at me with those bright, blue eyes, and suddenly I can’t deny it.

I’m falling for her—falling for my best friend.