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Ten minutes later, I was starting to worry.
“What’s wrong?” Max’s voice brought my head up, and I was startled to see him standing right there in the kitchen. I hadn’t even heard him come in.
“Oh, hey. Nothing.”
“Liar. You’re burning a hole through your phone with your eyes.”
“I texted Lars, and he hasn’t texted back.”
“How long’s it been?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“He’s probably in the shower or something. Fifteen isn’t that long.”
“If it was Wes, you wouldn’t be saying that,” I snapped.
Max didn’t take offense to my short tone. “You put the app on his phone?”
I grimaced. “No.”
Max tsked.
I sighed. “I didn’t want to seem like an overbearing asshole boyfriend who installs a tracker on his phone.”
“That’s why you just do it without telling him.”
“Yes, because Wes loved that.”
Max shrugged, completely unbothered. “I’d rather him be pissed and safe than me be pacing the floor like you are right now.”
My shoulders slumped.
Max sighed, coming over to cuff me on the back of my shoulder. “I’m sure he’s fine. Not everyone stares at their phones every minute.”
“He never takes this long to answer,” I muttered, my stomach knotting.
“All right, let’s go over there.”
I glanced up. “What?”
“Let’s go to campus and put eyes on him.”
“You’d do that?”
“I’ll also put that damn app on his phone and give you the number of the guy I have trailing Wes.”
“You think I should put a bodyguard on him?”
“Beats worrying yourself sick.”
“I don’t want to scare him off,” I confided.
Max smiled. “Do you not see the way he looks at you? He’s not going anywhere.”
My phone beeped, and Lars’s name flashed across the top of the screen.
“That him?” Max asked.
