By the time we get home we’re both exhausted and I’ve had too much to drink to not start sleeping soon. Max leads me to my room before heading back into the kitchen. I brush my teeth and shuffle into my room where I peel off my clothes and change before Max appears with two glasses of water. I drink them both and lay my head on the cool cotton of my pillow as my ears ring in the quietness of my apartment.

“Where are you going?” I mumble, hearing the quiet swish of fabric. I look up to see Max standing in my doorway with his back to me.

“The couch.”

I shake my head and pat the bed beside me. “Come on, you can sleep above the sheet if you don’t trust me,” I say, sticking out my bottom lip.

“That pout could make world leaders sign peace treaties.” He sighs in defeat and pulls off his T-shirt. The sight of him unbuckling his jeans has me swallowing. Maybe this was a bad idea. Max stands before me in his boxer briefs.

I’ve seen him in his bathing suit dozens of times, this is no different, I repeat to myself as I pull the blankets down. “Don’t worry, I’m too tipsy to try much. I feel like I’m about to sleep for twelve days.”

“I’m worried about my self-control, not yours,” Max admits. He hesitates another beat before I see the resolve cross his face, and he slides under the covers.

I snuggle myself close to him and shiver, feeling the warmth of his skin radiating against mine. Max reaches over and pulls me closer, wrapping an arm under my neck so my head rests on his shoulder. He then hitches my leg so it lies between his thighs, my foot between his knees. I drape my right arm across his chest, and take deep breaths of Max as his hand lightly combs through my hair.

“Thank you. That was the best crazy I’ve ever had,” I whisper, closing my heavy eyes as sleep pulls me under.

The next afternoon I patiently sit on Kendall’s couch as she wraps up a call to Jameson, huffing about us being on our way.

I lift an eyebrow as she throws her phone in her purse like she’s pitching a softball. “Everything okay?”

She looks over at me and we silently stare at one another for a long moment before she lets out a loud sigh and follows me down the apartment stairs where our shoes slap against the metal. I silently climb into the passenger seat of her car, watching as the words work through her mind. Usually Kendall speaks through her thoughts, rather than processing them first like I do, making me feel slightly anxious for what she’s about to tell me.

Her head leans against the headrest, gazing into the parking lot, while holding her keys in a loose fist. “I think I love him.”

She slowly turns to face me, and I see the fear etched across her face. My sister has used the “L” word in nearly half of her relationships, but I can tell this is different. This is sincere. I remain silent, allowing the words to penetrate the air as we both digest them.

“I love him,” she repeats with more conviction, turning to look at me. I smile at her reassuringly. “We’re dating best friends and I love him. What if something turns bad?”

I shrug, not even wanting to consider the possibility. “We’re all adults, and we’ve been friends, so we know if something happens, we can always go back to that.” Her lips turn down in a grimace, and I reach my hand to grip hers. “Right now everything is going great. You can’t worry about something happening that hasn’t. You’ll drive yourself crazy. Stop acting like me.” Kendall breaks into a grin and lets out a small laugh.

“Seriously, I am becoming you.” She groans, sliding her eyes back to me. “Really, though, I’ll always choose you first. I promise. Nothing will ever come between us.”

“I would never make you choose.”

“You’ll never have to. You’re more than just my sister. You’re my best friend.”

“I love you too,” I say, squeezing her hand. “You should tell him you love him.”

Kendall squeezes my hand in reply and then makes a flippant comment about my boobs looking bigger, and we spend the short car ride joking and laughing.

“Are you kidding me? For the love of all things holy!” I look up from my phone and see Max’s Jeep and Jameson’s car, then take in the moderately-sized tan house that looks too nice to have college students living in it, even if it is a rental. I look back to her in confusion and see the scowl on her face. I follow her gaze out the driver’s side window to see three scantily-clad women doing yard work.

I burst into laughter and climb out of the car with my bag in hand as Kendall follows me to the door, muttering under her breath. When the door opens Landon stands before us holding a bottle of beer and smiling.

“Hey, ladies! Do you need help with those?” he asks, lifting his beer in greeting.

“I think your neighbors are begging for help,” Kendall snaps, pushing past Landon who raises his eyebrows and looks at me in confusion. He takes a couple of steps forward and peers out the open front door to see a girl in a pair of shorts that look like she outgrew when she was seven, along with a bikini top and cowboy boots, mowing the lawn.

“If that does anything for you, please don’t tell me,” I say, taking a couple of steps inside.

Landon chuckles and closes the door as Max comes in the room, hair still wet from showering and a short layer of scruff on his jaw from not shaving today. He looks sexy as hell. I hoist my bag further up on my shoulder and lean forward to kiss him.

“What’s Kendall talking about? Rabid skanks?” he asks, taking my overnight bag from my shoulder, a smile playing on his lips.

“Your neighbors. They’re working pretty hard to get your attention.” I nod toward the large picture window beside the living room which is mostly bare except for a foosball table. “Tell her they look desperate and trashy.” Max walks to the window and peers out.

“Okay, tell me they look desperate and trashy.”

He closes the shade with a pull of the string and faces me with a growing smile. “Rabid skanks for sure.”

Landon laughs, retreating down the hallway. Max leans forward and gives me another quick kiss, taking my hand in his, and proceeds to give me a tour of their house.

It’s apparent it’s been well taken care of, with newer updates that were obviously done with care and precision. It’s clean, but feels slightly empty with sparse furniture and nearly no decorations. We finish upstairs where there’s a large room for storage and Max’s bedroom. He opens the door and I feel relieved he looks as nervous as I feel.

Max’s room is painted white, like the rest of the house. His king-sized bed sits against the far wall, covered in a navy blue comforter with a nightstand on each side, each adorned with a matching lamp. A large bureau sits across from the bed with a TV sitting atop it and a couple of framed pictures I zero in on immediately. There’s one of us from this summer, wearing our bathing suits. I’m sitting on his lap, my back pressed against his chest, wearing matching smiles so big it looks like our cheeks should ache. I don’t know where he got the picture and can’t even remember that moment, but a thrill goes through me seeing I hold a place in Max’s room. Beside it rests a picture of his mom, brothers, and him, all looking much more serious in a beautiful black and white image.

My thoughts break, hearing a soft thud. I turn and see my bag leaning against the armoire. Max has an undefined look in his eyes as his bare feet pad against the hardwood floor, stopping when he’s standing inches from me. He bends slowly, too slowly, and kisses me.

My arms wrap around his neck on their own accord, possibly his. Max’s hands sit on the curve of my hips, holding me securely to him as he pulls back and his eyes scan over me, reading my thoughts.