The Bucket List Boyfriend (Boston Love #3)

Chapter 15

Maya

SOPHIE AND I stroll along the winding path of the park, enjoying the sun filtering through the trees as we stretch our legs during lunch.

I’ve always liked how convenient it is that our offices are so close to each other. It gives us these moments in the middle of the day, a nice break to clear our heads and talk about anything and everything. There are some girl things I just can’t talk about with Max.

I glance at Sophie, smiling as she adjusts her sunglasses.

“So, what’s new with you?” Sophie asks, nudging me with her elbow.

“Not much,” I reply. “Work is pretty hectic but nothing I can’t manage. How are things in the office of James Sinclair?”

“Things have simmered down now that I’m not answering twenty calls a day from women trying to snag a date with James.” Sophie rolls her eyes.

Somehow word got out that James was finally looking to settle down and it’s been like someone threw chum in the water—a feeding frenzy.

That is, until James finally got around to asking Sophie.

“Let me take a look at that massive rock again.” I pull her hand towards me. “Don’t go swimming. You’ll go straight to the bottom with that thing.”

“I know! I’m terrified I’ll lose it. Who knows why James got something so enormous for a fake fiancée?”

“He probably just wanted to make sure none of the blood-thirsty women that kept showing up at his office would miss it.”

“That’s unlikely to happen.” Sophie chuckles and looks at her ring. “You can probably see this thing from space.”

We walk in silence for a little while until Sophie comments on my pensive look and asks what I’m thinking about.

“Just thinking about Friday. You free? Max is doing that slam poetry night.”

Sophie grins. “Oh, absolutely. Though… would Max kill me if I brought James along too? He said he wants to do more public outings. It’s got to look real.”

I laugh. “I’ll warn him. I’m sure he’ll survive. Just tell James he’d better be on his best behavior. No heckling from the front row!”

“I’ll tell him you threatened to cut off his balls again. That will keep him in line,” she says with a sly grin. “You’re the only one he listens to.”

“Not the only one.” I give her a pointed look.

She rolls her eyes and ignores my comment.

“So has Max shown you his poem yet?”

“You’ve been spending too much time with James. You’re adopting his deflection techniques.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not. There’s just nothing more to say on the topic of me and James. So…have you seen the poet’s masterpiece?”

. “No. He refuses to show me anything but I know he’s been working on it. The theme is ‘the future.’ Everyone’s allowed to interpret it however they want. I’m really curious what Max is going to come up with. He won’t even give me a clue.”

“He did surprise you with his dance moves and his amazing voice, so maybe he’s also secretly a poetic genius,” she says with a wink.

She’s right. He probably is.

“I’ve got a feeling this is going to be interesting.”

“How are things going with him?” she asks.

“He’s been…different lately,” I admit, glancing down at the grass. “Flirty, almost. It’s like I’m seeing this whole new side of him. I mean, I’ve known him forever, but now…”

Sophie raises an eyebrow. “Are you finally ready to admit you have feelings for him?”

I let out a sigh, the truth pressing against my chest.

“Yeah, okay. I do. I’ve felt it for a while now. You were right about them just being buried, not completely dead. But there’s still this little voice in the back of my head, you know, saying that we’re just not compatible. Sure, he’s been trying new things, but a few bucket list items are not suddenly going to turn him into an adrenaline junkie.”

Sophie gives me a look. The kind of look my mom gives me.

“Maya, sometimes the person who’s your opposite is exactly what you need. You’re spontaneous, adventurous. He’s grounded. You balance each other out.”

I look at her, her words sinking in, but the doubts are still there, swirling around.

“Maybe. It’s just hard to imagine how it would work in the long run.”

Sophie gives me a gentle smile. “Look, I get it. But sometimes it’s worth taking a chance, especially when it’s someone who’s been by your side for so long. Max wouldn’t flirt with you if he wasn’t serious about it.”

I nod, mulling it over as we reach the end of the path.

She’s probably right. The flirty banter, the way he’s been lately—it’s all new, but it feels good.

I feel like that teenager with a huge crush on him all over again. But this time he’s actually showing an interest and I get giddy thinking about him.

We stop at the park’s exit, and Sophie gives me a quick hug.

“Think about it,” she says and then gives me a stern look. “And remember that I care about Max too, so don’t go breaking his heart. I’ll see you Friday.”

“Yeah, see you then,” I reply, watching her walk off with a smile tugging at my lips.

The venue for tonight’s slam poetry evening is one of Boston’s most popular comedy lounges. The dim lights cast a warm glow over the room, and the low hum of chatter fills the air.

“So Max, are you ready for your big night?” Ben asks.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Those are the words that come out of his mouth but his thigh is touching mine under the table and the way it jerks every now and then tells me he’s nervous.

“You did say I’m allowed to film this, right?” James says, and he gets an elbow from Sophie.

“Yes, James. After all, Uncle Reggie did want us to record everything. But you’d better be on your best behavior.” I narrow my eyes at him.

He salutes me, which makes Kate and Alex chuckle.

Viola’s missing this evening, off with Noah at some fancy Formula 1 weekend overseas, but we’ve got a good group here, and I’m in that happy zone between excitement and nervous energy.

Max leans in a little closer to me, his arm brushing against mine as he looks toward the stage.

“Will you still be willing to be seen with me after I go up there and embarrass myself?” he whispers, his voice low and teasing.

I smirk, leaning closer to him. “If your poetry skills are anything like your singing skills, you’ve got this.” And then I add, slightly louder: “Besides, I’m pretty sure no one here is capable of being more embarrassing than Alex.”

Alex hears his name and lifts his drink in a mock toast.

“I live to set the bar low for all of you,” he quips, earning a round of laughs from the table.

Max chuckles beside me, his eyes lingering on me longer than usual before he stretches an arm out behind my chair.

There’s been this easy, flirty energy between us since our Wildway adventure, and I’m very aware of his every movement. The way his fingers brush my arm every now and then. The warmth of his leg as it presses against mine. The way his arm muscles flex below his rolled-up shirt sleeves as he sips from his glass.

Glancing up, I catch Sophie watching us with a knowing smile. Her eyes sparkle with amusement, but she says nothing, just raises an eyebrow as if to say, I knew it.

James, surprisingly, hasn’t teased Max once tonight. He’s watching us too, but there’s no smirk, no quick-witted remark. It’s almost like he’s…giving us space. That’s new.

“Okay, who’s up next?” Sophie asks, breaking the silence as the host announces the next poet.

We all turn our attention to the stage as a girl steps up, her shoulders squared, but there’s a slight tremble in her hands as she grips the microphone.

Her voice is quiet at first, soft and uncertain.

“Judgment. I used to shrink beneath your gaze, afraid of what you’d think,” she begins, her eyes scanning the audience. “How you’d weigh my worth on scales I couldn’t see, how your opinions would shape who I’m allowed to be.”

The room falls silent, everyone leaning in a little closer, captivated by her words and the rhythm. I find myself drawn in too, her vulnerability raw and real, and uncomfortably close to my own truth.

“And I fought—I fought hard to be more than your whispers, to outrun the spears of your words,” she continues, her voice louder and more confident. “But then I saw it—A mirror in your stare, and the truth was harsh because I judged you too. I built walls of pride, threw stones made of fear, never realizing I was caught in the same snare.”

Something in me shifts at her words. It’s subtle at first, just a tugging at the edges of my mind. But as she continues, it sharpens into a startling realization.

She’s talking about fear—fear of judgment, of never measuring up. And I know that fear. I know it better than I’d like to admit.

All my life, I’ve fought against being judged. People look at me and see the nepo baby. Someone handed everything on a silver platter because of my family.

I’ve spent years fighting tooth and nail to carve out my own identity. And it hits me, with the force of a wave crashing over me—I’m doing the same thing to Max.

All those fears I’ve had about us being incompatible, about him not sharing my love for adventure and spontaneity… they’re just judgments.

I’ve been so focused on what I think we should be, on what makes a perfect relationship, that I’ve been blind to what’s right in front of me.

Max has always been there. He’s the one who believes I can do anything, the one who supports me without ever holding me back. He lets me be exactly who I am, never asking me to change, never trying to box me in.

He’s the one who protects me, but also challenges me.

And I’ve been so stupidly hung up on whether we share the same interests that I missed the most important thing—that he’s exactly what I need.

My breath catches in my throat as the girl on stage finishes her poem, and there’s a smattering of applause, but I barely hear it.

I glance at Max, sitting next to me, completely unaware of the revelation I’ve just had. He’s laughing at something James said, but then he looks over at me, his smile softening as our eyes meet.

In that moment, everything falls into place.

The truth is so blindingly clear now, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.

He’s my perfect fit, not because we’re the same, but because he complements me in all the ways that matter.

“Maya?” Max’s voice pulls me back to the present. “You okay? You’ve gone a bit quiet.”

I swallow, trying to keep my emotions in check.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I manage to say, giving him a small smile.

I’m more than good. I’m exactly where I need to be.

Just then the host calls Max’s name and we all cheer loudly.

Both James and Sophie have their phones out to capture the moment. Sophie probably doesn’t trust that James won’t mess this up.

The lights dim as Max steps onto the small stage, a nervous grin on his face. He’s clutching a crumpled piece of paper in his hand, and even from our table, I can see him take a deep breath.

I shift in my seat, half-excited, half-anxious for him. Max adjusts the mic, clears his throat, and begins.

“They say age is just a number,

but let me tell you—it’s a number that hurts.

One day you’re jumping out of bed, feeling fine,

the next day, your back’s like, nah, not this time .”

Oh no! He’s rhyming!

“I’m so glad I’m here to witness this,” James whispers.

Sophie stifles a laugh next to me, her shoulders shaking with the effort.

Alex, on the other hand, doesn’t even bother hiding it. He puts a hand on his heart and starts mumbling in French. “Oh cher. Cela va être terrible. C’est pire que je l’imaginais.”

I have no idea what he said, but it’s not good.

I bite my lip, trying to keep a straight face. Max glances at us, then continues, undeterred.

“I used to stay up all night, no sweat,

Now I’m in bed by ten, with no regret.

What happened to me?

Every part screams painfully.”

James snorts loudly, earning a playful slap on the arm from Sophie.

The crowd chuckles softly, and I catch the twinkle in Max’s eyes as he rolls with it. He’s not embarrassed—he’s leaning into the humor. It’s terrible, but somehow, it’s terrible in the best way possible.

“My joints crack and my memory fades,

I creak when I stand, I groan when I sit.”

Alex whispers again, “Le pauvre gar?on...il est courageux, je lui donne ?a.”

He’s so shocked he can’t even find the words in English. This is new. Kate and I exchange a glance and chuckle. Alex might be so in shock he can’t find the words in English, but there’s no misinterpreting his facial expression.

The crowd, bless them, offers polite chuckles in between lines, some of them clearly amused by how Max is taking the whole thing in stride.

Despite the laughter, he finishes strong—or, well, he finishes.

“Getting old might sound grim, but don’t fret,

Because, really, you’re not dead just yet.”

There’s a beat of silence before the audience bursts into applause, some clapping harder than others, maybe because they’re just impressed he made it through.

Max grins, gives a little bow, and hops off the stage, making his way back to our table.

“Bravo!” Alex exclaims, clapping enthusiastically. “More terrible than anything I’ve ever heard!”

He’s going to be talking about this for days.

Max laughs despite the teasing, and slides into his seat.

I turn to him, trying to keep a straight face as I offer, “That was… something. Maybe don’t quit your day job.”

He chuckles and, without missing a beat, leans over and kisses my cheek.

“I can’t be the best at everything. Gotta leave something for the other folk,” he teases, his warm breath sending a shiver through me.

I shake my head.

The poem might’ve been a disaster, but the fact that Max had the guts to get up there, knowing how bad it was, just makes me even prouder of him.

“Per’aps it is time for a true artist to step up!” Alex declares, standing up.

Kate bursts into laughter and yanks him back down by the arm. “Sit down, you goofball. We all know this isn’t going to end well.”

“I don’t know. He couldn’t possibly be worse than Max,” James chimes in.

Before Alex can make good on his threat, the host calls the next performer.

“So Max,” Sophie asks, “do you think you’ll ever do this again?”

“I think I’ll pass, Sophs. My slam poetry career’s already peaked.”

Later that night, I’m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling with a small smile still tugging at my lips. I grab my phone and dial my mom, knowing she’ll already be awake despite the time difference.

“Hi, sweetie!” Mom’s voice is warm and bright, even though it’s early morning in Europe. “We’re just about to head to breakfast. I was hoping you’d call.”

“Hey, Mom. How’s the cruise?”

“Oh, it’s lovely! Your dad’s making friends with everyone, of course. Who would have thought so many people would recognize a retired baseball player on this side of the world?” She laughs softly. “How’s Max? And how’s that bucket list of his going?”

I pause, biting my lip. It’s funny, but her question hits me right in the chest.

“Max is good. Really good, actually. He’s doing much better than I ever thought he would. He’s…different.”

“And how are you?” she asks, and I can practically hear her smiling.

“Well… actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.” I take a deep breath, suddenly feeling a little vulnerable. “Mom, I think… I think I’ve been an idiot.”

Her voice softens. “Oh? What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m an idiot for a few reasons. One, I realized that the crush I had on Max never really went away. I just believed it would never happen so I buried those feelings so deep.”

“Hmmm. The impossible dream.”

“Yeah. But the other reason I’m an idiot is because I’ve been doing to Max the very thing I hated people doing to me. Do you remember how frustrated I used to get when everybody would call me a nepo baby? Whenever I was really good at something I was judged. People thought I was only successful because of who you and dad were.”

“Yeah, of course I remember, honey.”

“I’ve spent all this time thinking Max and I aren’t compatible because we don’t share the same interests. He’s not adventurous or thrill-seeking. He’s too organized for me. When really, I was a fool for judging him as lacking in any capacity. Those are some of the reasons I love him because they make him who he is.” I wipe a tear that leaks from my eye and sniff. “I don’t even know if I’m making sense, Mom.”

My mother is quiet for a moment, but I can feel her smile even through the phone. “So you love him, huh? Maya, we’ve loved Max like a son for years. And honey, you two have always been perfect together. I’m just glad you’ve finally realized it.”

I laugh, wiping at my eyes again. “So, you’re saying I’m late to the party?”

“Just a little.” Her voice is full of warmth. “But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you see it now. Have you told him how you feel?”

“No, not yet,” I admit. “I guess… I’m still working through it. But I know now, Mom. I know I love him.”

“Oh, sweetheart, your dad and I have been waiting for this moment for years! Your dad’s going to be thrilled,” she says, her voice bubbling with excitement. “Just let me know when you two finally get together, alright? You’ll make us the happiest parents.”

I laugh again, this time feeling lighter, more hopeful. “I will, I promise.”

We chat a little more about her plans for the day and their adventures in Europe, but when I hang up, there’s a peaceful sort of quiet that settles over me.

I roll over in bed and pull the covers up to my chin, feeling truly hopeful about the future.