Jaw ticking, he fisted his left hand tighter, incessantly thumbing the item in its grasp. These days he was all about the nervous energy, and that in itself pissed him off. This shit with Sean had stolen his peace. Time to do what it took to get it back.
Max pushed off his dresser, heart pounding anxiously, and fell into a slow, absent pace. Maybe it was good that he’d run into Sean at the club. It set into motion a series of events that were forcing him to stop stalling and act. To execute the plan he’d devised last night as he laid in bed unable to sleep. Talk to Scott. Appeal to his compassionate side. Ask him to do this one important favor.
His stomach turned miserably. He made another lap. God, he didn’t want to fucking do this. But he trusted Scott implicitly and knew he got along with Sean. They liked each other. Were friendly. So, Max was putting Sean in good hands, not just handing him over to some creep. Scott would take good care of him, but most of all, he wouldn’t fucking fall for Sean like Max had. Because, clearly, Scott’s heart was taken by another. A guy who, quite frankly, treated him like crap. It was bullshit, but that was Scott’s choice to make, and on the bright side, offered Max his best possible option. Someone he could confidently entrust Sean to who’d never develop feelings for him. God knew, if Scott and Sean ever got together, it’d absolutely destroy him.
He exhaled and closed his eyes. He was such a piece of shit. Refusing to give Sean the connection he needed, but praying no one else would give it, either. Sean deserved so much better. Deserved a man who’d make him happy. Another huge reason Max had to do this.
Resolved, he tossed the small item onto his bed, then stalked from his room to go find Scott. No more thinking. He’d done too much of that already. Enough, in fact, to last a fucking lifetime.
He checked Scott’s room—empty—then headed downstairs, locating him soon after in the kitchen. With his back to Max, Scott stood at the sink like some inanimate object staring out the window. Present in body but that was about it. His mind was clearly a million miles away.
Max stopped, frown deepening, and watched Scott for a second, wondering what on earth he was thinking about. Most likely nothing happy, going by his disheveled appearance. Drooping shoulders, uncombed hair, utterly wrinkled clothes. Like he’d slept in the things or something.
Max’s muscles coiled, recalling how Scott had left the club early last night to go hang out with Tad. Had something happened? For Tad’s sake, it better not have.
He cleared his throat and sat at the island, his own anxieties still coursing through his veins. “Hey, bro. How you doing?”
Scott didn’t turn around. Just gave a nod. “Fine.”
Damn. His voice sounded downright dispirited.
Max eyed him. “You sure? You seem kinda quiet.”
Scott shrugged a little.
“Scott.”
“What.”
“Look at me.”
Scott sighed and turned around. He looked like hell.
“What happened?” Max scowled.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
“No. I’m serious. Nothing happened. Just like fucking always.”
Alright, for whatever reason, Scott was giving it to him between the lines. Max studied his face, deciphering his words, feeling pretty confident who was to blame. He clenched his jaw. Gestured to Scott’s slouch. “Tad did this, didn’t he? After you left the club.”
Scott crossed his arms and leaned against the sink. Averted his gaze and shrugged. “Honestly, man… We both did.”
Whatever the hell that meant. Scott needed to give him a little more to work with. Max stared at him until Scott finally met his eyes. Max looked at him expectantly.
Scott scratched his cheek. “What?”
“Is that all you’re gonna give me? “Both of us did”?”
Scott grimaced a little and glanced away again. “Don’t really wanna talk about it.”
Max watched him a little longer, then nodded once. “Alright. Fine. But if you need to vent, I’m here.”
Scott forced a small smile. “I know, Max. Thanks.”
Max shifted on his stool. Steeled his nerve. “So, listen. On another note, I have a favor to ask you.”
Scott frowned, rather warily, as if he knew what was coming. “Okay… Hit me… Whatchu need?”
Max’s heart sped up. His hands went clammy. He didn’t want to do this, but fucking hell, he had to. Perspective, he told himself. Focus on the facts. Sean was a problem that needed to be purged. Before he could change his mind, he locked eyes with Scott, and just kind of blurted it out. “I need you to take Sean. Be his new Dom.”
Scott stilled in surprise. “What—Are you serious?”
Did it look like Max was joking? Max gave a nod. “Yeah.”
“But why? What the fuck. Did something happen at the club?”
Max exhaled. Dragged a hand through his hair and groaned. “Yes? No? I dunno. He just… He just wants too much… From me… And I just don’t have that kind of time.”