“This past year,” Erin continued, when it was clear he wasn’t going to offer up his thoughts out loud, “it’s made me realize. It’s made me think that maybe…Maybe comfortable is good.” She took a deep breath, her chest moving with the action. “I want to be there for you, Max.” He did actually grimace this time, but she shook her head firmly. “I want…Well. I just think that maybe we should give it another go.” And with that, she bit into a strawberry, though she kept looking at him, even when he wouldn’t meet her gaze. He liked her directness—it meant you always knew where you stood—but it also made her particularly formidable at times, because she knew just how to go after things she wanted.
She offered the strawberries to him, and he took one. “Surprised Mum didn’t put in some champagne too,” he muttered, and to his relief, she grinned. She’d probably considered it, Max thought, and then remembered that he wasn’t drinking at the moment.
He popped the whole strawberry into his mouth and she leaned back, tilting her face up to the sky and arching her back. “I think you should move in with me, when you get back to the UK.” He choked a bit on the strawberry, but she only closed her eyes, apparently enjoying the feel of the sun filtering through leaves to warm her face. “In Edinburgh,” she clarified, as if that were the main issue with her proposal. “I know you don’t have anywhere to stay.”
“Is that right?” Max growled, vowing to have a word with his mother when they were alone.
Erin opened her eyes, looked at him, and nodded. “And the thing is…” She glanced over his shoulder and bit her lip. He wondered briefly if she’d seen Chloe. “I don’t mind if that’s just as friends.” She huffed out a breath, looked back at him. He raised his eyebrows, and she elaborated. “I’d rather it wasn’t, which I’m sure you’ve gathered. But the offer’s there either way.” She gave him a soft smile. She meant it, too—she wouldn’t say it if she didn’t. She wasn’t the type to play complicated games, and he didn’t think she’d do that to him now. But even if it was just as friends, it was still fucking dangerous territory.
“So.” She shook back that long blond hair. “What do you think?”
Jesus, just like that, he was supposed to decide? He ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Erin…” She was looking over his shoulder again, so he twisted slightly to look too. He’d been right—Chloe was weaving her way back over to them, and he was sure that neither he nor Erin wanted to leave the conversation open around his sister. He cleared his throat and twisted back to her. “Erin, I—”
But he stopped, snapped his head back toward the fountain. He’d seen something there. Someone. He was sure of it. It’d only been a moment, but he had that face memorized. He frantically scanned the crowd, until he locked his gaze on a side profile. Warm brown hair, standing out like autumn in the spring, a small nose, full lips. Surely not. But he was already standing, already taking a step toward her, shifting position so as to see a little better. Shaking his head as if he couldn’t be right about this. Maybe it was just because he’d been thinking of her earlier.
And then he heard the sound of her laughing.
“Max?” Erin’s voice sounded dim somehow, compared to the thumping of his heart, the sudden blur of noise around him.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, aware that his voice was clipped, almost a little panicked, and unable to stop it. He walked swiftly in the girl’s direction, trying to keep his gaze locked on what was now the back of her head, cursing the multiple people who kept getting in his way. He felt a hand on his arm and whipped to it.
Chloe immediately let go, raising her hands as if in surrender. “Whoa, what’s up? Did it get that bad?” She punched her chest dramatically with one hand. “Fear not, brother mine, I’m coming back and I’ll fend off any googly-eyed—”
“Just give me a minute, OK, Chlo?”
Chloe frowned. “Hey, what—”
But he ignored her, quite literally running from her now, swearing under his breath when he couldn’t locate the girl again. Surely it couldn’t be her. He’d left her in London. Left knowing he’d never see her again. His head whipped around, scanning the area around the fountain. He just had to make sure, that was all. That was the only driving thought in his brain right now, even if he was, distantly, aware that it wasn’t entirely logical. His heart was galloping as he jogged around the fountain, ignoring the curious-eyed looks, given he wasn’t dressed for a run. He was a little out of breath already, making him realize how unfit he’d become in the last few months—he’d run the Edinburgh marathon two years ago, for Christ’s sake, and now look at him.