The Bucket List Boyfriend (Boston Love #3)

Chapter 14

Max

THE MORNING air is crisp, the sky still tinged with early dawn light as we gather by the riverbank after an early breakfast.

The water flows past, steady and constant in this stretch, but you can hear that it speeds up a bit further down this section of the river.

After everyone has pulled on their gear and it’s been checked, Skye and Derek move to stand near two bright yellow rafts, giving us the rundown.

“We’re splitting into two groups of five,” Skye says, flashing her usual wide smile.

Although I’d never tell Maya, her and Skye are actually quite similar—always a little too energetic this early.

“Derek will take one raft, and I’ll pilot the other.”

Derek nods, gesturing to the river. “You all remember the safety instructions from the first night, right? Class II rapids are pretty tame, but if anyone falls out, make sure to float on your back with your feet downstream. We’ll pull you back in as soon as possible.”

I nod along with everyone else. I can’t deny that even though I’m more nervous about this than I was the canoeing, feeling the excitement build around me is infectious. Excited is a bit of a strong adjective. It’s probably more accurate to say I’m cautiously looking forward to it. Class II rapids might not sound too wild, but it’s more than enough for me.

I glance over at Maya, who’s already eyeing the river like she’s ready to conquer it. This is child’s play for her. Typical.

“So, let’s split you guys up into teams,” Skye continues, her gaze shifting directly to me. “Max, why don’t you join my group? I know this is your first time, so I’ll make sure you’re in good hands.”

I can feel Maya tense beside me and I’m not surprised given our discussion last night. She might not have outright admitted it, but she was jealous.

And that thrills me to my bones.

Not because I want Maya to feel jealous, but because it tells me that she really does feel something more than friendship.

I still need to do this in baby steps, because I don’t want to scare her off by confessing my undying love, but I feel like a million bucks.

While I might not be ready to come clean about being in love with her, I do want to show Maya that she has nothing to worry about.

Skye’s not exactly subtle and I don’t want Maya’s concerns about her to overshadow her enjoyment of this. I also need to make it clear to Skye that I’m not interested. In a kind way, of course.

I smile politely at Skye. “Thanks, Skye, although I don’t really mind whose raft I’m in. As long as I’m with Maya, I’m good.” I glance at Maya, offering her a small grin. “We’re a team.”

Maya’s lips twitch, and I can tell she’s trying not to smirk, but I catch the small glint of satisfaction in her eyes. Skye’s smile falters for a split second before she recovers, nodding.

“Of course,” she says, breezily. “That’s no problem.”

I can feel the tension ease from Maya’s shoulders as Derek starts organizing the adventurers into groups, but I keep my focus on her.

Whether we end up in Skye’s raft or not, I don’t care. I just want to make sure she’s enjoying this as much as I am.

As it turns out, we do end up in Skye’s boat, and after some safety checks of our helmets and life jackets, we’re ready to go.

I sit in the raft, gripping my paddle a little too tight, feeling the thrum of adrenaline flowing through me as we move to the center of the river.

Maya’s in front of me, laughing and chatting with Skye and one of the other group members, Donald.

She might be loving this but I can’t even enjoy the view. All I can think about is all the ways this could go wrong.

And it’s not just my safety I’m worried about. If anything, I’m more worried about Maya than I am about myself.

I know it’s irrational—Maya’s done this a hundred times, and these are Class II rapids. She’s been in much rougher waters than this. But my brain won’t stop imagining worst-case scenarios.

What if she hits a rock? What if she gets thrown out of the raft and I can’t help her?

Or my ultimate fear—what if one of us gets stuck under the water and drowns?

The guide’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Paddle forward, team!”

We push off, the water pulling us downstream, faster than I’d like. The raft bounces over small waves at first, just enough to jolt me, but it’s nothing more than a little splash. That doesn’t mean I’m enjoying this.

What was Uncle Reggie thinking?

Maya looks over her shoulder, her eyes bright with excitement. “You’re good, right, Max?”

“Oh totally,” I shout back, forcing a smile.

Maya’s laughter tells me she knows I’m lying.

The current picks up, and suddenly we’re headed straight for the first set of rapids.

Water crashes around us, spraying up and over the raft, and I dig my paddle into the river like my life depends on it.

The raft jolts violently, and for a moment, it feels like we’re being tossed around like a toy. My heart races, my muscles tensing with every bump and splash.

Maya’s laughter rings out over the chaos, and I want to relax, to feel that same exhilaration she does, but my mind is still stuck in overdrive.

We’re fine. She’s fine. She’s done this before. I repeat it to myself like a mantra, but I can’t shake the fear.

I’ve seen Maya do crazy stuff and come out unscathed—rock climbing, cliff jumping, you name it—but whitewater rafting? It just feels… unpredictable.

We pass through rapid after rapid and things go well enough that I start to relax just a tiny bit, until I see we’re headed to a loud, frothing, churning rapid that can’t possibly be a Class II.

The sound of rushing water is so loud it’s practically deafening.

Then, it happens.

As we navigate our way through the rapid, the raft turns more to the side than it should. As we’re bounced around trying to correct our course, I lose my balance, my paddle slipping from my hands. My stomach lurches as I’m bounced right off the raft.

The cold water engulfs me, the shock of it knocking the air from my lungs.

For a split second, panic flares, but then I remember Derek’s instructions. Get on your back. Keep your feet pointed downstream.

I kick my legs up, feeling the current pushing me along like an invisible hand, and I have a moment of clarity. The current isn’t something I need to fight—it’s carrying me, taking me somewhere. I just need to relax and lean into it.

So I do.

A shout comes from the raft. “Max! Over here!”

I glance up and see Skye reaching out with her paddle as the current pushes me right toward them.

Maya’s face hovers over the side of the raft, her brow creased with concern. “You okay, Max? Grab on!”

I reach out, gripping the paddle tightly, and with a few strong pulls from Skye and Maya, I’m hoisted back into the boat. I collapse onto the bottom, water streaming from my clothes, breathless but…okay.

Maya leans over, her hair wet and sticking to her face. “You alright?”

I laugh, surprising myself. “Yeah…I think so.”

As I sit there, catching my breath, it dawns on me: that wasn’t nearly as terrifying as I imagined.

Sure, it was a shock, but I’m fine.

I look at the river ahead, and for the first time today, it doesn’t seem like a threat.

Maya grins at me, and I can’t help but smile back.

“You know, Max, if you wanted to go for a swim, you could’ve just said so,” she teases.

“Believe it or not, that was actually quite…fun,” I admit.

Maya’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of her head.

“Who knew that hiding under those stiff button-downs was such a thrill-seeker?”

“What can I say? I think you corrupted me,” I say, and Maya’s answering laughter is music to my ears.

My eyes dart to the next set of rapids up ahead as we resume our places in the raft.

This time, when Skye shouts for us to paddle, I dig my paddle into the water without hesitation.

Maybe I don’t need to worry so much. Maybe I can just enjoy this, enjoy the rush of it all.

The next set of rapids comes up fast, the water splashing higher than before, but instead of bracing for the worst, I find myself grinning.

We stop for an early picnic lunch and rest before we take on the second stretch of the river, which is just as exhilarating as the first.

This time, I manage to stay in the boat.

It’s enjoyable, but by the time we reach our new camping spot, I’m ready to have my feet on dry land again.

We pull the raft up onto the rocky shore in the early afternoon. My arms are sore, but the rush of the rapids and the unexpected swim has left me feeling lighter than I have in days.

This campsite is a more permanent set-up than the previous one, with proper bathroom facilities, a firepit, and even a volleyball net. Sadly, we’re still sleeping in tents.

Before long, we’re all drying off in the sun, kicking back on the grassy banks of the river as someone suggests a game of volleyball.

Derek organizes the teams, and I can’t help but smile as Maya insists we’re on the same side.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” I ask. “You’ve seen my ball skills.”

“No, I’ve seen the old Max’s ball skills. Apparently the new Max is a risk-taking athlete,” she says, tossing me the ball with a wink.

“Ooof.” I think I pulled a muscle catching that. “I think you should reconsider. My arms hurt.”

“I’ll give you a massage later.”

Well, I’d be a fool to say no to that.

While we play a couple of games of volleyball, the Wildway Wilderness Adventure team cooks dinner in the communal room—the only cabin around here.

Maya discovers that my ball skills have indeed remained pathetic, but we still have fun and that’s all that matters.

Later that evening, the fire crackles in front of us, glowing embers rising into the cool night air. We’re all sitting on the logs that surround the fire pit, in conversation.

Derek gets everybody’s attention by putting his fingers to his lips and whistling.

“So,” he says, stretching his legs toward the flames, “as tonight is the final night of your Wildway Wilderness Adventure, we like to get a little feedback. What’s everyone thought about these last couple of days? The canoeing, the rafting, all of it. Any moments stick with you? Anything you’ve learned about yourself? For a lot of you this is a first, so that must have been an experience.”

There’s a murmur of agreement, a few nods.

Skye leans forward and says, “It’s funny, isn’t it? You come out here for the excitement and the rush that comes with whitewater rafting, but I think there’s a special kind of peace that comes with just being in nature, away from everything.”

One of the group members, a goth-looking guy named Pete, chimes in. “I used to think I hated being outdoors—like, absolutely not for me. But… this was kind of amazing. You forget how peaceful it can be.”

Maya shares how being outdoors reminds her how small she is in a big wide world.

Everyone’s sharing bits and pieces—Lena talks about how her ten grandchildren are going to be proud of her. She’s never been more exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.

Donald tells us he made a bet with his brother that he would go whitewater rafting before his sixtieth birthday and he was determined to win the bet, which makes us all chuckle.

Emily shares something about how she’s learned more about herself and it’s all starting to feel a little more profound than I expected.

When it gets to me, I rub the back of my neck, not sure how to put this into words without sounding like an idiot. But here goes.

“I guess…” I start, glancing around the circle. “I guess I realized today that not being in control all the time doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

A couple of heads turn, curious.

Even Maya, sitting beside me, is watching me with a little more intensity than I expected.

I take a breath and go on. “I’m, uh, not really the kind of guy who likes things being unpredictable. I like to know what’s happening, I like to plan.” I laugh awkwardly. “But the rafting especially… you can’t control the water, right? You just kind of have to… let go.”

I feel a little foolish, but I feel Maya’s warm hand connect with my back and I keep going.

“And sometimes, when you let go, things turn out better than you expect. Like, instead of fighting the current, you go with it, and it takes you somewhere good. Somewhere unexpected, maybe, but good.”

There’s a brief pause, then a few nods around the fire, and someone murmurs, “That’s a good point.”

I shrug, feeling a bit relieved that I didn’t completely botch it. But as I glance at Maya, I notice her wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie, subtly enough that no one else catches it.

My stomach twists a little.

Did I say something wrong? Or maybe…did I say something right?

She catches me looking, gives a quick, shaky smile, and looks away, like she doesn’t want to get into it right now.

I don’t press. Not here. Not yet.

Instead, I lean back, watching the flames dance in front of us, trying to act like I didn’t just watch my best friend tear up because of something I said.

When the fire starts to die down I jump at the opportunity to make an exit.

Standing, I hold out my hand to Maya.

“Ready for bed?”

“Yeah.”

She takes my hand and we say goodnight to everyone before heading for the tent.

As we unzip the tent and crawl inside, I can feel the weight of the day settling into my bones.

It’s dark now, the sounds of the crackling fire and murmured conversations fading behind us as we zip the flap shut. I start fumbling with my sleeping bag, but then I hear a soft sniffle beside me.

I turn, and there’s Maya, her face half-lit by the dim camping lantern we’ve left on. Tears are streaming down her cheeks, but she’s smiling—actually, she’s beaming.

“Maya?” I ask, alarmed, but she just waves a hand at me, like she can’t even find the words yet.

“I’m sorry. I’m fine,” she says, her voice catching. “I’m just—” She laughs through the tears, wiping at her face. “I’m so proud of you, Max. You’ve been…incredible these past few days. These past couple of months.”

I blink, not expecting that. “Proud of me? What for? For almost falling out of the canoe every five minutes or making an epic splash today?”

I try to keep it light, but she shakes her head, as her laughter begins to sound more like sobs as more tears roll down her cheeks.

“No,” she says between sobs, “for everything. For stepping out of your comfort zone. For being brave.” She takes a shuddering breath and waves her hand in the air as she tries to get her sobs under control. “You…you’ve always had it in you, but seeing it happen has been…” She pauses, wiping at her eyes again, “It’s been amazing. I don’t think I could be more proud.”

Then she’s full-on sobbing.

I chuckle, reaching over to gently pull her into a half-hug, feeling her relax against my shoulder.

The only time I’ve ever seen Maya shed a tear has been when her pets died. This is very unlike her, and that makes it all the more moving.

“You know,” I say, my voice light but earnest, “I wouldn’t have done any of this without you. You’ve been the one pushing me, telling me I could handle things when I thought I’d crash and burn.” I give her shoulder a little squeeze. “So, thanks… for making me brave, I guess.”

She pulls back slightly, looking up at me with red eyes and a big, watery smile. “You are brave, Max. More than you know.”

Her words hit harder than I want to admit.

A part of me wants to tell her right now—just let it all spill out. Tell her that she’s been the reason for everything, not just these past few days but for years. That I’m in love with her and I have been for what feels like forever.

But… I know it’s not quite the right time.

There’s something delicate about this moment, something I don’t want to push too far.

We’ve stepped into a new phase, I can feel it.

Our friendship has this spark now, this subtle flirting that wasn’t there before.

And instead of trying to control every little thing like I always do, I’ve decided—just this once—I’m going to let go. Let things happen naturally. Live in the moment, like I told the group around the fire earlier.

Maya wipes her eyes again, chuckling through the last of her tears. “Ugh, sorry. Look at me, crying like a baby. You’re the one who should be emotional—you survived rafting without drowning.”

I grin. “Yeah, I definitely thought I’d end up as fish food or something. But hey, I guess you were right—I didn’t die, and I might have actually enjoyed it.”

“See?” she teases, nudging me. “You didn’t need to control everything after all.”

I nod, looking at her and feeling a strange warmth spread through me. “No,” I say softly, “I didn’t. Turns out, letting go isn’t so bad.”

She gives me that smile again—the one that makes my heart do weird flips—and for a moment, we just sit there, her hand still resting on my arm.

And even though the words I want to say are right there, I know there’s time. I’ll get there. We’ll get there.

For now, I’ll just let the moment be what it is.

“Maya,” I say, breaking the quiet with a grin, “I hope you don’t think that crying is going to get you out of that massage you promised me.”

Maya bursts out laughing, shaking her head.

“Dang! My plan failed. I guess a promise is a promise.”

Her laughter comes to an abrupt halt when I whip off my shirt and she visibly gulps as her eyes run over my chest.

Her gaze feels like a caress, and heat flares up my neck as I turn my back to her and sit down.

There’s a charged silence between us, the air in the tent thick with something that wasn’t there before.

“You checking me out, Maya?” I tease, not turning around but grinning to myself.

She snorts, but there’s a playful edge in her voice.

“Please. I’ve seen you shirtless before, Max. Don’t think I’m going to let you get all cocky about a few muscles. Doesn’t affect me at all.”

She’s a liar and she knows I know it.

I chuckle, shifting slightly as she kneels behind me, her hands pressing firmly into my shoulders.

The way her fingers glide over my skin, working out the tension in my back, sends little sparks shooting through me.

The playful banter hangs in the air, but underneath it, there’s this unspoken thing, a current we’re both aware of.

“I mean,” she continues, her voice dropping just a bit, “if you really want to show off those muscles we could always arm wrestle.”

I laugh, the sound a little more strained than I’d like, considering how her hands are now massaging my arms, slow and deliberate.

“I think you’d have an unfair advantage today because your arms are not as sore as mine,” I manage, half-joking and still acutely aware of every brush of her fingers.

She leans forward slightly, her breath warm on the back of my neck, and I feel myself tense for an entirely different reason now.

“Max,” she murmurs right by my ear, pressing harder into my shoulders, and I wonder if she knows just how much of an effect she’s having on me, “I don’t need any advantage. I could beat you on your best day. I think you’re just afraid.”

I have to suppress a shudder as her warm breath tickles my neck.

Her soft chuckle as she releases the pressure point tells me she knew exactly what she was doing, the little minx.

Well, two can play this game.

I turn around.

“Yeah? You think you can beat me with these little biceps?” I gently squeeze her upper arm.

Maya sucks in a breath.

“Definitely.” The word comes out strained.

I lean in and whisper, “Maya, I’ll wrestle with you any day of the week.”

I can’t help but feel a bit smug at her startled laugh.

As I pull my shirt back on, I realize that if this is the new phase of our relationship—with all this unspoken tension, this teasing—I can live with it for a while.

The confession can wait. I meant it when I said that for once, I don’t feel the need to control everything. I’ll just let go, enjoy the moment, and see where this takes us.