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“Oh yeah,” his blue eyes sparkle. “Let’s hope it doesn’t involve a racket, because I can disarm you of that pretty quickly.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “No, I know better. It has to be something I’m confident I can win.” I lightly bump him with my shoulder. “You haven’t learned how competitive I am yet.”
“Is that why you own a tennis racket?”
Laughing, I shake my head. “No, that was Vanessa’s idea. She was interested in a guy on the tennis team, so she thought he’d notice her if she played.”
Max raises his brows. “How’d that work out?”
I giggle. “Not well. She ended up with a bruised ego. The guy had a long-term girlfriend from his hometown that he was in love with. Turns out, when he said he could help her in a class she was struggling with, it was because he was a tutor in the Learning Center and not because he was flirting with her.”
“Ouch,” Max winces. “Poor Vanessa.”
“She was broken-hearted for a few weeks until she started dating again. She’s pretty resilient.”
He nods. “And what about you? Are you resilient?”
I bite my lip thoughtfully. “I’d say yes, but not like Vanessa is. I may fall, but I’ll get back up. And I fight like hell for the people and things that are important to me.” I pause, lifting my head to his. “How about you?”
Max nods thoughtfully. “I think you are more resilient than you think, Irelynn. You’ve impressed me in the short time I’ve known you.” He squeezes my hand, his eyes scanning the students around us. I get the sense he’s making sure William isn’t around.
As he contemplates my question, his brows furrow, and his expression darkens. “Yes, I’m resilient. Some of it not by choice, but rather, because of life circumstances.”
His response puzzles me and seems indicative of things he’s experienced in the past but hasn’t elaborated on. “Like when you lost your grandparents? I’m sure that had quite an impact on you. Yet here you are, an amazingly compassionate and hard-working person. I’m certain they are proud.”
His smile brightens, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. “Thank you, Irelynn. That means a lot to me. I strive to make them proud of me, even though they aren’t here.” He steps forward, opening the door of the coffee shop for me.
“And you are quite the chivalrous gentleman. They would certainly be proud of you for that.”
He puts his arm around my waist as he walks with me to the end of the line to order. “Thank you. My grandfather was such a gentleman. I’ve always wanted to be just like him.” His eyes dance happily as I meet his gaze.
“What about your parents? Did they—” I stop talking, taken aback by his tense expression. My hand goes to my chest, and I immediately begin backpedaling. “Oh, I’m sorry, Max, you don’t need to answer that—”
He holds up a hand, then squeezes the bridge of his nose. He lets out a big exhale and says, “My parents influenced me, but not in the way you’d imagine. They taught me what I don’t want to be.” He lowers his head, the hand that isn’t around my waist running through his dark blond hair. There is so much hurt radiating from him that I just want to pull him against me and hug all his despair away.
But since we stand in a long line, waiting to order our coffees, I settle for giving him a squeeze around his waist. “I’m sorry, Max.”
“Thanks, Irelynn.” He squeezes me tighter, giving me a small smile. He looks at the students standing in front of and behind us. “We can talk when we sit down with our coffees.”
“I’m happy to listen to anything you want to tell me,” I say with a reassuring smile.
His blue eyes are guarded but he nods, his gaze flickering from me to the coffee shop board, studying the offerings intently.
To give him a reprieve, I decide to change the subject. “I’ve been thinking about your middle name. I’m pretty sure Max is short for Maxwell, correct?”
He puts a hand over my mouth, his eyes wide. “Shh. We don’t want people to know my first name is Maxwell and that I’m a rich, pretentious snob that watches football games while wearing tuxedos,” he whispers, a large grin on his face. He removes his hand from my mouth, and I laugh, shaking my head.
“Oh right. I wouldn’t want the students on campus to figure out your true identity, Mr. Pretentious Snob,” I whisper to him.
He starts tickling my side and I squirm and giggle. “Mr. Pretentious Snob, huh?” He tickles me harder, and I laugh, squirming against him.
“I surrender. I won’t call you that anymore,” I choke out between laughs, wiping away the tears on my face from laughing so hard.
“Let that be a lesson, Irelynn Rose McDaniel. I know your weakness. You are ticklish as hell.” His eyes sparkle, a wide grin on his face.
Determination glints in my eyes. “I plan to learn your weaknesses, Max Devlin.”
It can’t be just my imagination. Max’s reaction was too swift and obvious, his spine snapping ramrod straight, his face looking pinched and guarded, like a veil fell over his baby blue eyes, dimming the light and darkening them to sapphire.
