The Bucket List Boyfriend (Boston Love #3)

Chapter 13

Maya

I SWEAR, if Skye flips her hair at Max one more time, I'm going to lose it. Hair flipping! Seriously? Just because she’s got that whole outdoorsy, rugged, ‘I can scale a mountain before breakfast’ vibe doesn’t mean she gets to flirt with Max with her fancy Australian accent.

She didn’t even know we weren’t dating when she started with the flirty comments! And with Max being so quick to assure her I was just a friend, she’s ramped up the flirting.

Maybe I was wrong and reading into things. Maybe Max doesn’t really have feelings for me. Why else would he be so eager to tell her we’re just friends?

I take a deep breath and focus on the campfire, which casts a warm glow over our rag-tag group as we sit around getting to know each other better.

It’s actually a really lovely bunch of people, and I should be enjoying myself, but all I can think about is the way Skye is looking at Max with her doe-eyes. MY Max.

She’s sitting on the other side of him and giggling at everything he says.

“Have you ever been mountain climbing, Max?” Skye rests a hand on his arm and I have to summon all my willpower not to rip it off.

I tuck my hands under my legs just to be safe as Skye tells Max all about her climbing accomplishments.

What I wouldn’t give to see Skye’s face if I swapped out her fancy climbing chalk with powdered sugar. Imagine her trying to grip a rock with that sticky mess all over her hands.

Or better yet, how about replacing her organic trail mix with a bag of birdseed? Hopefully she’d get chased by a flock of angry birds for a few miles.

Sadly I can only do that in my imagination. If I were to try it for real, Max would probably frown at me in that way he does when he’s trying to be responsible, and I’d cave immediately.

Doesn’t mean I can’t daydream about it though.

“Uh. No,” Max answers, adjusting his glasses. “Mountaineering is not really something I’ve been adventurous enough to try yet. But Maya and I are going rock climbing next month.”

He smiles at me, making my heart flutter. I appreciate the fact that he’s trying to include me in the conversation.

“She’s going to show me the ropes.”

Skye giggles again. “Well, if you ever need some pointers, I’m just a phone call away. I should give you my number.”

Ugh. Barf!

Thankfully she’s removed her hand from his arm, but I still want to scratch her giggling face.

This is infuriating! Why does she have to be so…so perky? And so Australian. And why do I care so much?

Oh, right. Because I’ve finally admitted that my teenage crush may not have entirely disappeared, and now I have to deal with Miss Mountain Goat throwing herself at him. Great.

Max smiles politely at Skye but shakes his head.

“I don’t think I’ll need to take you up on that. I’ll be in Maya’s expert hands.” He turns and gives me a wink. “There’s nobody I trust more.”

Be still my heart!

By the time the campfire is put out and we head to bed, I’m feeling moderately better.

The tent is a cozy two-man tent, but as soon as the campfire is out and we zip the flap shut, I can feel the chill creeping in.

“So, is there a particular reason you booked a two-man tent, instead of two singles?”

I ask the question, even though I already know the answer. I just want to see if he’ll actually admit it.

Max takes off his glasses and carefully packs them into his bag. “Because I’ll need you to protect me if any creepy-crawlies decide to spend the night with us.”

That’s not the reason, although it does make me smile. Max might be scared of snakes, but he’s not scared of bugs.

No. That’s definitely not the reason.

“Oh, okay. So it has nothing to do with the fact you wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink, knowing I was out there in a tent, alone, when a bear or a moose could appear at any minute?”

“Uh. Maaaybe.”

The way he draws out the word makes me chuckle. Of course that’s the reason safety officer Max wants me close by.

Although I should probably be troubled by the deeply psychological reasons behind it, I’m a little bit amused by the fact that Max thinks he can somehow control the outcome if he were with me when a bear or moose came along.

As much as he talks about how I’m capable of anything, he still feels more in control when he’s right there with me.

“You know…you might be onto something,” I tease. “I thought I heard a coyote howl just now...”

“Oh hush!” Max rolls his eyes.

This is not the first time we’ve shared a tent, although the last time was when I was ten and both of his brothers were there too. It was Max’s first (and last) camping experience. Although I use that term very loosely. We were just in the wooded area behind our houses.

Max made me sleep between him and James because he had thoroughly reviewed all the things that could possibly go wrong and he thought I’d be safest in the middle.

I’m not going to lie…I’m just as giddy now about sleeping next to Max as I was when I was a teen crushing on him. Maybe more so.

I climb into my sleeping bag, my warm pajamas in hand, and with the skill of an award-winning contortionist, I manage to change into them while under the covers.

Sadly, I’m too busy protecting my modesty to pay attention to Max changing, so I miss the show.

I’m pretty sure he got down to his boxers at one point, and now I’m kicking myself for not taking a little peek.

Max turns off his camping lamp and settles onto his sleeping bag next to me, and the thought of whitewater rafting tomorrow flashes through my mind.

“You ready for some rapids tomorrow?” I ask, nudging his arm. “I hope you’re not planning to sit in the middle while I do all the work.”

He grins, lying back on his elbows. “I think I’ll be fine. You’ve done all the hard stuff so far.”

I roll my eyes. “Hard stuff? You mean steering the canoe? I think you need to reevaluate your definition of hard.”

Max lets out a small laugh.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, I glance over at Max, his handsome profile barely visible in the dim light.

“You know,” I say softly, “I’m really proud of you, Max. You’ve loosened up a lot the past few weeks.”

He raises an eyebrow, turning his head slightly toward me. “Loosened up?”

I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“Yeah. The Max who went ziplining a few weeks ago is very different from the Max who went canoeing today. You just seem…more relaxed.”

Max smiles, though there’s a hint of something deeper behind it.

“I don’t know if I’d call it relaxed. Canoeing is different. Ziplining is—” he pauses, searching for the right word, “—it’s like I’m completely out of control, just dangling there as I speed through the air, at the mercy of gravity and a couple of cables. It’s a terrifying feeling, having no control.”

I tilt my head, wanting to prod him without being insensitive. “Why is control so important to you, Max?”

He doesn’t respond immediately, and I can see the gears turning in his head.

“I don’t know,” he finally says, his voice quieter now. “I’ve always been that way. You know that. I like knowing the details, planning everything down to the minute so nothing catches me off guard. Prepare for all possibilities. It’s just…safer that way.”

“Safer?” I ask gently, propping myself up on my elbow.

I know that there’s something more here, something that runs deeper than just wanting to have a handle on things like most perfectionists.

Max sighs, his breath visible in the cold air. “Yeah. You know me Maya…I don’t like taking risks, and I hate the idea of something going wrong. If I can control the situation, then I can minimize that chance. When there’s no control, bad things happen.”

I look at him, heart heavy with the weight of what he’s not saying. His parents’ car accident is not something he likes to talk about.

“Do you think,” I ask carefully, “it has anything to do with…losing your parents so young? Like, maybe that’s where this need for control comes from?”

He’s quiet for a long time, the only sound between us the soft rustle of the sleeping bags. Finally, he turns to look at me, his expression serious but thoughtful.

“Maybe,” he admits. “I guess it makes sense. That was something I couldn’t control at all. Maybe if I feel like I’m managing everything else, it stops things from spiraling…like that.”

My chest tightens, and I reach out, gently touching his arm. “I get it,” I say softly. “You went through something awful, and it makes sense that you’d want to make sure you never feel that powerless again.”

Max nods, his gaze distant as he stares up at the tent’s ceiling. “Yeah. It’s like… if I control what I can, I minimize the risk of something bad happening. Doesn’t always work, but at least it feels like I’m doing something.”

There’s a deep sadness in his voice, one that hits me hard.

I never thought about how much he carried with him, how hard it must be to always feel like you’re one step away from losing something.

“Max,” I say quietly, “you don’t have to carry all that weight on your own. You can let people in. You never talk about your parents’ death.”

He looks over at me, his expression softening. “I know. I just…it’s hard.”

“I know,” I whisper back. “But you don’t have to be in control all the time. It’s okay to let go a little.”

“I know. I’m trying,” he whispers.

For a moment, there’s only silence between us again, one that feels raw but somehow comforting at the same time.

As much as I know we should be going to sleep because we have an early start, I’m distracted by a thought that pops into my head and I just can’t shake it.

Knowing Max, he’ll be grateful for the change in subject.

I twist onto my side again, and as casually as I can manage, ask: “So, Skye, huh? Offering you her number is a pretty bold move. I’m kinda surprised you didn’t take it. A beautiful, fit mountain climber like her…”

I try to sound playful, but the way the words come out doesn’t feel right. My chest tightens, and I instantly regret bringing it up.

I can’t joke about something like that when the idea of him actually being interested in her makes me feel… well, kind of sick.

Max looks over at me, amusement fading into something softer. “Maya, you have no reason to be jealous.”

Kill. Me. Now. How embarrassing!

He can see right through me, down to my jealous roots. He reads me so well I might as well be painted green.

I’m tempted to pull my sleeping bag right over my head.

“I don’t want her number,” he says quietly.

“Even though she’s a blonde bombshell and is the Yosemite National climbing champ…two years in a row?” I ask with a raised brow and just a touch of bitterness, which I realize is unfair to Skye.

She’s probably really nice and I’m just being a jealous shrew.

“I don’t care about any of that. She could win every beauty pageant and climb every mountain in the world, and it wouldn’t matter. You’re the only one who does.”

I scoff, my heart skipping even though I try to play it cool. “Yeah, right. You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

He shakes his head, smiling like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “I mean every word of it.”

The relief I feel is ridiculous, but I’m shivering now, and it’s getting harder to focus on anything other than the way the cold air seems to be seeping right into my bones.

They provide the tents and sleeping bags…and clearly they didn’t splurge on the latter. I should have brought my own…and not because I’m a germaphobe. After all, Max used an entire canister of disinfectant spray on these things. But this one is thinner than usual, and I didn’t bring nearly enough layers of clothing for how cold it’s gotten.

“Are you freezing too, or is it just me?” I mutter, teeth chattering a little.

Max glances at me and frowns. “You should’ve packed more layers. Come here. Body heat is the best way to keep warm.”

He scoots into a sitting position and starts unzipping both our sleeping bags, and my brain immediately jumps to… places that involve naked bodies and heat.

I blink at him, trying to keep my expression neutral, but he’s thankfully too busy concentrating on what he’s doing to notice.

“We can zip these together, make one big sleeping bag. You’ll warm up faster sleeping right against me,” he says, already halfway through the process.

Oh. Right. That makes sense.

Not that I’d complain if Max wanted to start stripping down, now that I’ve had a good look at the chiseled abs he’s done such a great job of hiding under his shirts.

My face is definitely warm now, which is a cruel joke considering how cold the rest of me feels.

Once the bags are combined, he settles down beside me, and we shuffle around until we’re close—really close.

Max slides an arm under my head so that I’m practically force-snuggled into his chest. I’m certainly not complaining. He smells delicious.

“Goodnight, Maya.” He kisses the top of my head.

“Night, Max.”

The warmth spreads quickly, but my heart is still racing faster than it should.

With my ear pressed against his chest, I can hear his heartbeat. It’s a lot slower than mine.

I’m not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved by the fact that he seems to be so unaffected by our snuggle.

Before long, the warmth and the comforting, rhythmic thump of Max’s heart starts to lull me to sleep.

As I start to drift off, the exhaustion of the day catching up with me, I think I hear him whisper. It’s faint, like it’s just on the edge of my consciousness.

“You’re the only one I’ve ever loved.”

That’s such a beautiful thought, it can’t possibly be real. But I still smile because it’s a really lovely dream.