Maxim (Carolina Reapers 10)

Dad glanced toward the door, where Cannon and Briggs had made their way out, and he stepped back and straightened the lapels on his suit coat. “We’ll see you Wednesday, Maxim.” He walked over to Mom, slipping an arm around her waist even as she stiffened at the contact. “David?”

David glanced at the two of them and then back to me. “I’m staying at Max’s.”

“Suit yourself. Mila, we’ll drop you at home.” He walked off with Mom to where they’d parked their rental in the secured lot.

“How is she?” I dared to ask my sister as she started toward them.

“Ask her yourself,” she retorted over her shoulder, hurrying to catch Mom and Dad, leaving David and I standing next to my car under the light.

“I fucking hate him,” I muttered, unlocking my car with the key fob. “Get in.”

“You really slept with Evie?” he asked, getting into the passenger seat.

“Don’t go there, David.” It was the only warning he’d get. “You really want to know what Sterling is like?”

He nodded.

“He’s the only person I’ve met who isn’t afraid of Dad.”

That said it all.

The only thing more awkward than meeting Sterling last year after he’d gotten stuck in the elevator with London was watching him meet David in my living room the next afternoon after practice. They’d been stiff and formal through introductions, and now…hell, I didn’t even know what to call whatever this was.

David sat in the armchair to my left, his ankle propped up on his knee, drumming his fingertips on the upholstery as he studied Sterling.

Sterling consumed the loveseat to my right, lounged back with a bottle of water, pretending not to notice David’s scrutiny.

Meanwhile, I sat on the couch, monitoring the situation like they were a lab experiment capable of going horribly awry at any moment. “Someone say something,” I finally ordered after the silence became unbearable.

“You’re wearing Maxim’s workout clothes,” Sterling said.

Okay, that was an interesting choice, but at least it got the conversation moving.

“I left my bag at the place my dad…” He flinched. “Our dad rented for the season and didn’t exactly feel like swinging by for an extra set of clothes and a rousing lecture on why my knee never healed correctly.”

“Yeah, I’d wear Maxim’s shit, too,” Sterling said with a nod, reaching forward to grab a chip from the bowl on the coffee table. “I avoid that guy like the fucking plague.” He leaned back, crossing his ankle over his knee.

“You’re better off for it.” David reached for a chip and assumed the same position.

“What happened to the knee?”

“Tore my ACL.” David shrugged. “Got back on the ice too soon to train and ruined any chance of it healing properly.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Let me guess. Dear old Dad had you in the backyard rink before the doc cleared you,” Sterling said, reaching for the back of his own neck.

“Good guess, but don’t presume to know everything—” David started.

I burst out laughing, the sound echoing off the walls of the vaulted living room. My ribs hurt with the force of it, and I gasped for breath as both of my brothers stared at me like I’d lost my mind.

“What the fuck, Max?” David asked, his lip curled.

“You should see you two!” I pointed at each of them, continuing to laugh. “You sit the same way. You make the same motions. It’s fucking hilarious!”

They glanced at each other.

Sterling was the first to crack, his lips curving upward into a grin.

David finally scoffed and smiled.

“Let’s change the subject,” Sterling suggested. “How about we talk about you?” He swung his gaze toward me.

I stopped laughing. “What about me?”

“You’ve been fucking miserable since Chicago,” he started, leaning forward. “At what point are you going to suck up your pride and go get your girl back?”

“She’s really his girl?” David asked, raising his brows.

“Oh hell yes,” Sterling answered. “Those two have been inseparable since January. She’s head over heels in love with him, and you know he loves her, too. He’s just being too stubborn to do anything about it.”

“You’re in love with Evie?” David’s voice softened.

“I’m…” I shook my head. “I’m something.” Was it love? Was that the definition of this ache? This horrible, painful longing?

“And that right there—” Sterling pointed at me, “—is why she left your ass.”

“She left me over a stupid fucking tabloid article,” I snapped. “Some jackass made comparisons about the string of girls I’ve dated, and Evie decided that she didn’t mean anything to me and ran because she cared more about what some reporter thought than how we felt about each other.” There was so much anger mixed in with the hurt that I didn’t know where one stopped and the other began. “She gave up on me. She didn’t trust me.”

“Right, and your inability to tell the girl that you love her had nothing to do with it?” Sterling prodded.