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His heart picked up speed. Max was close, but not enough. Sean dug out his camera and peered through its lens, shamelessly zooming in for a better view. Okay, so maybe now he was sort of stalking. Couldn’t help it, though. Max was like heroin, impossible to resist. All Sean needed was a quick little fix.
Max’s crew arrived at the curb where a van sat parked, and carefully loaded the boxes into the back. Transporting their sculptures to the art gallery? Getting ready for the show? A few minutes later, their cart was empty and the doors to that van were slamming shut. The students headed back in the direction they came. The van pulled away and drove off. Max, however, just kind of stood there. Hands in his pockets. Eyes staring into space.
Sean’s heart thump-bumped faster. God, how he missed him. Wanted so badly to walk over and say hi. Then hug Max. And kiss him. Then drag him away. Because, apparently, Sean wasn’t above kidnapping. At least not where Max was concerned. Sean smiled and snapped a few shots, wondering how his Dom would do in chains.
Except Max wasn’t his Dom. Not currently anyway. He’d never officially agreed to take Sean back.
Sean watched as Max drew in a slow, deep breath, then watched him somberly exhale and turn around. He looked sad. Sean could see it. See it in his eyes. In that subtle downward curve of his lips. Sean wondered if Max’s mood had anything to do with him. Did he miss Sean, too, like Sean missed him? Was their last encounter still weighing on his mind? God knew, everything about their little conversation sucked. From the depressing-ass revelation about Max’s traumatic past to their decision as a result to stay apart.
Not that Sean wanted to agree to those terms. Every ounce of his being had objected. But Max had needed it, needed the space. So, Sean had put a fucking lid on it and acquiesced. Surely, considering Max’s state, it’d be better for the both of them. Would recharge them. Fill their tanks up with fresh perspective.
Problem was, as Sean watched Max walking back to the building, he couldn’t help wondering if they’d been wrong. Because after an entire week apart, Max didn’t look better. If anything, he might actually look worse. At least, he did to Sean, going by those circles under his eyes, like the poor guy hadn’t slept in a month.
Sean’s insides ached with the need to make him smile. With the powerful urge to lift Max’s spirits. And Sean could. He knew he could. Used to do it all the time. Back when he hadn’t been so damn determined. So dead set on winning Max’s heart.
Max paused at the entrance and peered over his shoulder, as if looking for something. Or someone. Sean stilled, holding his breath. He’d be mortified if Max saw him, if he caught Sean straight-up watching him through his lens. But Max didn’t, thank fuck. Just frowned and turned back, then pulled open the doors and disappeared.
Sean lowered his camera, frowning just as deeply. He hated, fucking hated, to see Max like that, especially knowing that he was partly to blame. He’d fucked up Max’s head, then up and left, leaving Max to clean up the mess. Which didn’t seem fair, no matter how Max spun it. Sean needed to take responsibility. To shoulder some of the load. But sensibly, so as to not cause more harm. Meaning he couldn’t go to Max as Max’s client or lover.
He had to go to Max as his friend.
Sean pulled out his cell phone and looked at its screen. Almost time for his next class. After that, he’d be headed home. Back to his apartment to cram for finals. Once he was done, though, he was going to see Max. But only to say hi. Just a quick in and out. Make sure he was okay, and if he wasn’t, make him smile. Then hit the road and be gone in no time flat.
Sean packed up his camera and tucked away his pamphlet, then stood up and shouldered on his backpack.
Max.
His heart beat faster.
Max.
He chest squeezed tight.
Sean drew in a lungful. Straightened his beanie. “Please,” he murmured to no one at all. “Don’t let this shit backfire on me for once.”
THIRTY-TWO
“Tad.” Scott smiled as he answered his cell. “What’s up? You getting ready to head over?”
“Um… Actually, no. Not tonight. I can’t.”
Scott’s happy dimmed. “Again?” That’d be twice in a row.
“Yeah… I’m sorry. Finals and all. Gotta study.”
“But that’s what you said last night.”
“Yeah… I know. The material’s just… really tough.”
Scott’s brows furrowed. “And you’re only coming to realize that now? You told me two days ago that you’d been staying on top of it. That you’d actually have some time this week to hang.”
