“Alright, one, two, three,” Max counts aloud and both he and Caulder slide their hands under Zeus. As Caulder begins to lift Zeus’s back he releases a heart wrenching whimper, and I take a deep breath so my own anxiety doesn’t heighten his stress.

“It’s alright, Zeus. You’re okay, buddy. We have a really short way to go,” Max says as they continue moving to where my mom’s SUV is parked with the back open awaiting Zeus. The two work swiftly and so gently I want to hug them both in appreciation. But knowing we need to go, I climb in next to Zeus, folding myself in a tight ball beside his head where I can continue to soothe him.

“Ace, you can’t—” Caulder starts to protest. I glance at him, tears still spilling from my eyes. He stops and reaches forward, dusting some loose gravel from my leg. “I’ll escort you guys there.” He turns to Max. “Don’t slam on the brakes or take turns too sharp with her back here.”

When we arrive at the clinic they’re already waiting for us, Kendall or maybe Caulder must have called. The vet comes out to assess the situation and the best way to get Zeus inside. He, Caulder, and Max all work together to get him inside with as much support as possible before shutting us out so they can ascertain what all is wrong.

Caulder and Max go back outside as I wander the small, empty lobby. They’re getting ready to close for the evening, and the vacancy is both welcoming and unnerving. I collapse on a padded bench and cover my face with both hands and cry.

It feels like both seconds and hours have passed when an arm wraps around my shoulders and I’m pulled against a chest that I instantly know just by the warmth and newly familiar scent. Max gently runs his hand over my back, so soft that at times I have to focus to make sure he’s still touching me. The action is insurmountably comforting.

Normally I’d be mortified to cry in front of someone, especially when that someone is Max. Crying is right up there with throwing up—you really can’t do it in any way that’s attractive. I’m certain my cheeks are blotchy and tear stained, and there are streaks of mascara and eyeliner on my face, and yet even knowing that I look awful, I can’t stop.

The door chimes and a sea of voices alerts us my family has arrived. We sit huddled together, not discussing the fact that Lilly had run away, or that Zeus was hit by a car. Kendall and Kyle work to distract us by chiding one another and discussing surface topics to ensure the mood is kept light until the vet comes out to inform us Zeus had to undergo surgery for some internal bleeding where they repaired his hind quarters. He has two broken legs and won’t be able to walk for at least four weeks. He’ll stay a couple of days for observation and will possibly need an additional surgery.

As we stand to leave, I feel Max’s hand leave me for the first time since he came to comfort me, and I turn and wrap both of my arms around his chest, crushing my body against him. “Thank you.”

His arms encircle me and gently squeeze as the rest of my family deals well-deserved accolades to Max for his help.

I hadn’t been intending to get up and run this morning, but as I lie in bed my thoughts wander from Max for the first time in weeks and I think about Zeus. The worrying makes me restless. I head downstairs where I find another note from my dad telling me that he again was called in early. Summers have a tendency for this to occur due to other doctors being away on vacation.

I slide my shoes on and make my way outside, stretching an arm across my chest as I close my eyes and listen to the new playlist Kendall loaded to my iPod.

My attention breaks from the music as a hand brushes my arm and causes me to nearly jump out of my skin. I turn and see Max’s blue eyes alight and a small smirk across his full lips. My eyes travel on their own accord to see he’s wearing a pair of dark, navy blue mesh shorts and tennis shoes … that’s it. He’s shirtless. Again. And his sculpted bare chest shakes a bit as he laughs, making his muscles ripple. I have the familiar urge to reach out and touch him before my eyes snap back to his face and realize he’s laughing at my startled reaction. At least I think that’s why he’s laughing. Hopefully he didn’t notice me checking him out. I pull out an ear bud and glare at him.

“Sorry, I was talking to you, but apparently you couldn’t hear,” Max says, pointing a finger to his ear. “What are you listening to?” He smiles at me, and it’s a genuine grin that makes my heart swell a bit and my annoyance to instantly ebb.

“I don’t know. It’s a playlist from Kendall.” I tilt the screen so he can see the name of the band and song that I’m unfamiliar with.

He nods and then turns his attention to me. “So I thought while Zeus heals, you might like some company.”

I look at Max, feeling a myriad of emotions from appreciation to nervousness to bewilderment, and all I can manage to do is nod in response.

Max lets out a small chuckle and begins to stretch beside me. My heart races even faster. It’s not as though I haven’t run with guys before, and since I run every day, I know I’m not going to be panting and stumbling. This is different though. Max is different.

We run to the track and the sight of the intersection where Zeus was hit causes a heavy weight on my heart as I realize just how fast I had been running yesterday.

“He’s a tough dude. He’s going to be back taking my place before you know it.” I glance over at him and try to smile to show my appreciation.

I had been right. Max is fast and he has the endurance of someone that obviously works out a lot, which is both enjoyable and a bit intimidating.

Running with Max becomes a quick routine, and after a couple of days of getting over my nerves, I even look forward to it. We run well together, matching one another’s pace, occasionally adding some competition as one of us tries to race the other. On these instances Max generally cheats by grabbing my waist and hauling me back a few steps or gently pushes me to knock me off balance before he sprints ahead. But after our morning workout we, fall into our own individual routines.

Saturday night arrives with some tension. I’d originally agreed to attend a bonfire with Kendall. Jameson’s supposed to be going, and she’s still trying to decipher where things stand between them, so she was livid when Eric called and asked that I attend a party with him, proposing that we go to the bonfire afterward. Feeling guilty that I haven’t spent much time with him, and still uncertain about the situation that Jenny had texted me about, I agreed.

I turn to Eric as we pull up to the party, excitement emanating from his anxious grin. “You’re friends with Tim Evans?” I ask, trying to hide the surprise I so rarely feel around Eric.

“Tim who?” he asks, his enthusiasm slightly waning as he turns to look at me.

I nod my head toward the house. “Tim Evans, the guy who lives here.”

“Oh, I don’t know the guy that lives here, I just know some people here. They say the parties are insane.” It’s not common that I see this much excitement on Eric’s face, and I want to share in it and see this side of him that I haven’t before. However, I feel the tentativeness in me rising, being semi-familiar with stories about parties here.

Eric pushes open his car door and heads up to the house. I follow behind him, reaching for his hand that I quickly lose as a man falls into Eric. I wait to see his response and watch as the quick flash of anger that initially overcomes him quickly dissipates into laughter as he clutches the guy’s shoulders in an unfamiliar act and then drops his hold and takes a couple of steps forward into the throng of people.