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“You’ve been trying to set us up for years. Did you think we’d just be holding hands?”

Shaye stops, a knowing smile on her face. “So you are together.”

I tug on my hair. “Well, kind of. I guess.”

She sinks back down next to me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We’re spending time together, you know, doing stuff. More than just that though,” I quickly shout once she claps her hands over her ears.

She lowers them, eyes narrowed as if she expects to hear more she doesn’t want to acknowledge. I don’t have a sibling so I can’t imagine how disgusting it is to envision them riding my best friend.

“I really care about him, Shaye. But I’m nervous. He’s so complicated—the things he does, things he says. Sometimes I wonder if he can be this guy, the one who can deal with being in a relationship.” I bite my lower lip. “And there’s other stuff, too.”

“Like?”

“Like his work. The things he does. Places he goes. People he deals with. He won’t talk about any of it, and it scares me sometimes.”

She drops her eyes and starts picking at her cuticles. “He’s always been shut down about his work.”

“Yes, but am I really supposed to just deal with his evasiveness? He keeps me in the dark about it all. Like this morning.”

Her eyes float back to mine. “What happened this morning?”

I explain his swift change from sweet Max into thug Max when Gianni showed up at our table. “He just became a completely different person within seconds. He was ready to maim with that fork. I’ve never seen him like that at all. It freaked me the hell out.” I shake my head and let it fall into my hands. “But, my God, he has this sick hold on me. And it’s only until I see that other side that I even think about breaking free.”

Shaye nods. “You know, I’ve never seen him try to be normal with a girl.”

I snort. “That’s an interesting way to put it.” I know this is Shaye’s way of deflecting my veiled comments about what Max actually does. She’s done it for as long as I can remember, and she’s damn good at it. She’s never given me any indication she knows what he’s all about. What any of them are all about, for that matter. And I know she’s not nearly as ignorant as she’d like me to think.

“I’m serious. He’s not exactly the type of put on airs. You get what you get with Max Oriani. But with you, I don’t know. Sometimes, it’s like he’s a different person. I see a side I didn’t actually know he had.” She smiles. “Maybe you bring that out of him.”

“Maybe he doesn’t like that, though.”

“Or maybe it’s a nice change for him.”

“I just wonder if things can really work out between us.” I cover my face with my hands. “Jeez, why am I even saying this stuff? It’s not like he’s proposed marriage or anything. I mean, it’s not even a thing. Are we friends? More than friends? I kind of think it’s more, but I wouldn’t assume that I’m his girlfriend or anything.”

“Have you asked him about it?”

I roll my eyes at Shaye. “Come on, are we in eighth grade? ‘Um, Max, will you be my boyfriend?’ How lame is that?”

“Well, if you really want to know where things stand, ask the damn question, girl!”

I snicker and hold up my hands to block the next pillow hurled in my direction. “Part of me is afraid to know the answer. I’m really into him, Shaye. I don’t want to get hurt, and I don’t want to ask the question and put him in a corner if he’s not ready to go down that path, you know? Plus, there’s just so much I don’t know about him. He gives me a little here and there, but then shuts down for a lot of the big stuff.”

“Like fork-slashing type big stuff?”

“Yes.” I swallow hard. “You know, I’m not exactly living under a rock here. I can see things more clearly than you guys think.”

Shaye shrugs and is back to examining her nails. “What are you talking about? See what clearly?”

“The work Max does, what Nico does, his family, your family, all of those short, thuggy, Italian guys who are always hanging around…” I cock an eyebrow.

“I have no idea where you’re going with this.” Her eyes crinkle at the corners. “But the short comment is a little bit judgey. I mean, you’re like ten feet tall, so are they really that short?”

I throw my hands into the air. “You’re totally deflecting! I’m not stupid! I’ve seen The Sopranos! I know all about the…” My voice drops. “Mafia,” I whisper.

Shaye lets out a loud giggle. “Who knew you had enough time on your hands to even think about this stuff? You might be seriously sleep deprived, though.”

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