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Staunch denial formed a lump in my throat, and I struggled to speak past it. I had to say something to explain my sudden discomfiture and Max’s disappearance from my life.
“We ended things,” I said, my voice hitching slightly.
“Aw, babe. Why didn’t you tell us?” Isabel asked as Charlie pulled me into a one-armed hug.
“Did he hurt you?” Davis demanded, incensed on my behalf. “If he did, I will find him and throat punch him.”
A strange, watery laugh burst from my chest, and my eyes stung with a sudden swell of emotion: pain, love, gratitude.
“No, you won’t,” I countered on another shaky laugh. My friends would always fiercely defend me, but Davis wasn’t actually violent, despite the lean muscle packed onto his dancer’s body. “But I appreciate the thought.”
“I didn’t realize things were that serious between you two,” Charlie said, all soft warmth and comfort. “When you started going out with Nikolai too, I figured you were only interested in casual dating.”
“Same,” Isabel agreed. “I’m sorry, Allie. I should’ve checked in with you sooner. I had no idea that you were upset.”
“I thought you were just stressed with your internship and that douchebag, Gavin,” Davis added.
My friends would’ve been blind not to notice that I was more than a little frazzled and distracted recently. They knew that I took my work seriously, and I had to deal with Gavin’s menacing glares every day I went into the office. He still hadn’t said a word to me that wasn’t professionally necessary—not since the night Max had broken his arm; the night Gavin had followed me home and drunkenly accosted me on my front porch. But my tormentor’s perpetual glower promised retribution.
A small shudder rolled through me, and I wasn’t certain if it was from the thought of my bully or the flash of Max’s dark eyes that burned in my mind.
“What happened?” Isabel pressed gently. “Did Max break things off?”
I shook my head and heaved in a breath, forcing oxygen into my constricted lungs. Iron bands had formed around my chest, crushing down on my heart. “It was mutual,” I said.
Technically, it was true. I’d told him he was a monster, and he’d told me that we were done.
His scarred features had twisted with agony when I’d pulled away from him. But as soon as the accusation left my lips—You are a monster, Max—his sharp features had frozen to carved ice, his expressive eyes going dark and flat.
I couldn’t take the words back. I’d lashed out at him, wanting to hurt him the way he’d hurt me with his insane lies about my mother’s death. But even now, I didn’t believe he was a monster. He was a man in pain, tormented by his twisted family and scarred by some terrible trauma that he’d never shared with me. I regretted my cruel words, but I would never have the chance to make it right. I would never see Max again.
I don’t want to see him again, I lied to myself for the hundredth time.
“You still care about him.” Davis’ green gaze was uncharacteristically serious as he studied my crestfallen expression, his brow furrowing all the way up to his pale blond hair.
My lower lip quivered slightly, and I blinked against the burn at the back of my eyes. “I said some things I’m not proud of,” I admitted. “But it’s over now.”
My friend’s jaw ticked. “What did he say to you?” he demanded. “You wouldn’t have said anything mean if he didn’t hurt you first. It must’ve been bad. Don’t bother denying it. You don’t have a mean bone in your body, Allie.”
I swiped at the tear that spilled down my cheek. I couldn’t tell them what Max had said. It was all bound up in his vendetta and his mafia family. My friends couldn’t know anything about that.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said thickly. “We broke up, and I’m moving on.”
A beat of silence passed before Isabel chimed in with an overly-bright tone, “Yeah, you’re moving on with a super-hot billionaire. Suck it, Max.”
“Right,” Davis declared, bolstering me. “Who needs him when you’re dating royalty?”
I released a weak laugh. “Niko isn’t actually a prince, Davis.”
“Let me have my romance,” he huffed. A second later, he caught our server’s eye. The man immediately strode to our table, a perk of being regulars. “We need popcorn,” Davis announced. “Do you have that parmesan-truffle kind?”
The server took his order and went to the bar to relay it.
“Why are we getting popcorn?” I asked. “I mean, I won’t say no to some, but is there a reason we need it?”
Davis rested his chin on his hand and leaned toward me. “Because your romantic life is officially the juiciest, and we have front-row seats. We need to talk about Niko.” He emphasized the more intimate nickname that Nikolai had asked me to use.
