“Takeaway order for Max,” the woman behind the counter said in a flirty voice.

Max got up from the bench he was sitting on and headed to the counter. He smiled at the waitress. She had served him several times before, but he had never stuck around long enough to get her name.

“Thanks,” he said as he collected the soup from her. “I’m sorry. I never got your name.”

Her lashes fluttered as surprise consumed her pale hazel eyes, brightening the line of yellow around her iris. “It’s Fel.”

“Fel?”

She nodded. A blush succumbed her cheeks, and it was the perfect backdrop for her freckles. She was pretty, but her young girlish features weren’t for him. “Short for Felicity.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Fel. I’ll see you next time.”

“You, too, Max,” she said as Max spun around and made his way out of the restaurant and to his car.

When he reached his car, he pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked it. Careful not to spill the soup, he opened the passenger side door and set the takeout food on the seat. As he closed the door, his phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. He pulled it out to find Noel calling him.

Guilt doubled in his chest. He had been avoiding Nolan Parker’s text message for two days. His priority was Josie. After that, he simply wanted to forget it was there. Realising what a shit friend Max had been, he answered the call and made his way to the driver’s side.

“Hello,” Max greeted as he opened the car door and slipped inside. He shoved the key into the ignition and turned his Porsche to life. Then he got to work getting his phone connected to his car.

Seconds passed, and he heard Noel say, “Hey, Max. How are you?” through the speakers.

“Not bad,” he replied as he put his seat belt on. He had indicated right, checked that he was clear to pull out, and drove towards Collingwood.

“That’s good. Your father not pressuring you to take on more clients?”

Max shook his head, aware that his best friend couldn’t see it. “He’s got me shadowing other lawyers in the firm. Seeing how they all work. He takes time away from my current clients, but besides that, he has eased off a little.”

“That’s good, mate.”

A sense of accomplishment washed over him as he heard the proudness in Noel’s voice. When he finally told him what he had done behind his back, he knew that would be gone. He just hoped Noel would still consider him his friend afterwards.

“How are you and Clara doing?”

Noel sighed. “Good. I feel like I barely see her anymore. Her classes and assignments have her preoccupied. Honestly, her doing this degree is pointless. I don’t mind paying for it, but that’s just it. I’m not paying for it. She’s using some of her trust fund money, and it’s hard to watch her waste it. She doesn’t need to finish her business degree to be a dessert chef. She had promised to use the money to open her own bakery.”

“Have you spoken to her about this?”

“Yeah. It’s actually what we fight about.”

“You guys are fighting over money? Do you need some help … financially?”

His best friend sighed again. “No, that’s not why I called or sent that text. Honestly, we’re good. I don’t make a lawyer’s salary each year, but I make enough where we’re both comfortable. We fight because I know she’s delaying her dreams. She’s scared of another setback like at the last restaurant where she worked. The head chef really destroyed her confidence.”

Max pressed on the brakes and came to a slow stop behind traffic. “Clara’s not happy?”

“No,” Noel confirmed in a sad tone. “It doesn’t help that she knows Andrea is coming back from the Florida office soon.”

Andrea.

Max’s heart stalled at the sound of her name.

The woman he’d kissed under a tree in New York.

The woman he dared.

The woman who had left him scorned with her confusing emails demanding space.

“Max? Max, are you still there?”

He swallowed hard. The pain in his chest radiated, but he was fine. Two days ago, he thought he had let her go. But hearing Noel say her name was the latch breaking. The hurt she inflicted came back to him, stronger than ever, repeating its assault on his heart.

“Still here.”

Noel went silent.

Max continued to drive as he waited for Noel to speak again.

“I know what I have to do, but she won’t like it.”

“What are you thinking?” Max asked, curious.

“I’ve got to get in touch with a few of the restaurants back in Melbourne to see if they’d still be open to having her work there.”

Max turned onto Josie’s street and parked his car outside her apartment. He cut the ignition and stared at his phone in the slot next to the brake handle. “How is that going to work?”

“It’s not,” Noel stated. “We’re not working right now, Max. She keeps hiding her true feelings because she feels like she owes it to me to be in Boston. But she matters more than my job does. And she shouldn’t have to sacrifice her dreams after she’s worked so hard for them. I’ve still gotta work out how to do this without it affecting our marriage. She needs kitchen experience and a confidence boost. She doesn’t need to be stressed over management statistic assignments and all that.”

“I agree,” Max found himself saying. He knew how hard Josie was working for her bachelor and for her dream career. It was only fair that Max encouraged Noel to support Clara achieving hers. “Look at Rob; he’s now the world champion. Clara worked hard to become a chef. She already went to culinary school. Whatever you think is right, encourage her not to give up.”

“Thanks, Max. I knew you’d understand.”

He grinned as he removed his belt, reached over, and picked up the soup he had ordered. Then he picked up his phone and disconnected the Bluetooth so that the call went back through his phone. When it successfully disconnected from the car’s speakers, he pulled the key from the ignition and got out of the car.

“Hey, Noel, I’ve gotta run. Anything else you want to discuss?”

Noel hummed. “Oh, it was nothing important. Just wanted to see if you wanted to do some pro bono work here in Boston—off the record, you’ll be receiving a gratitude package, and it’ll be all expenses paid.”

Max closed his car door and blinked at Josie’s apartment building, surprised at the offer his best friend was expressing. “What?”

“As I said before, Andrea’s coming back to Boston soon after she took over the Florida office for eight months. She finally got the senior lawyer position, and she’s coming back with a lot of work. Gregson asked me if I knew any corporate lawyers willing to help out for a month or two. And well, besides Andrea, you’re the only other lawyer I know. Thought since the whole Sarah thing and your dad’s firm pressuring you, you might want to get away. You’re welcome to stay with us if you’d like. I ran it past Clara, and she insists.”

Boston.

Working with Andrea.

Seeing Andrea.

“Noel …”

“I know, but maybe you being here and Clara cooking for you can boost her confidence, too—”

“Noel.”

“And I’d like seeing you around more often. We could make weekend trips to see Alex, Keira, and Will. It’d be nice to have you in the US, Max.”

He let out a bothered sigh as he made his way towards the gate of Josie’s apartment. Typing in the security code, he let himself in. As Max made it into the elevator and up to Josie’s floor and then apartment, he listened to Noel discuss how good of an idea it was to have Max in Boston working pro bono. The money wasn’t the problem.

It was seeing Andrea.

She had humiliated him with her silence.

With her short messages.

With her need for space.

When he reached Josie’s front door, Noel had suggested, “At least think about it?”

“I’ll think about it,” he promised as he said goodbye and hung up on his best friend. Juggling everything in his right hand, he balled his left into a fist and tapped his knuckles against the door.

His answer was silence.

He knew she was home.

She had texted him two hours ago to say she had seen her doctor.

Max knocked once again.

He finally heard footsteps and Josie saying, “Hang on a sec!” before her door opened and he was presented with a pale, sweaty version of her.

“Max?” She squinted at him. “What are you doing here?”

He lifted his right hand higher, and her eyes darted to the plastic bag.

“What is that?”

“Soup,” he stated.

The annoyance didn’t leave her face, but he noticed her sway and the increase of sweat that dotted her forehead. “Why did you bring soup to my door?”

His lips curved into a smile. “Because you’re sick.”

“So that requires soup delivered to my door?”

He gave her a nod and pushed past her to enter her apartment. “I’m looking after you,” he said once he reached her kitchen bench.

Josie was slow to catch up, and she stood on the other side, glaring at him. “Max, you don’t have to look after me.”

Max untied the plastic bag and pulled out the still hot chicken soup. He pushed aside the wet plastic bag and pulled off the lid.

“Josephine, I’m your friend. Go back to bed, and I’ll bring it to you.”

“No,” she whined.

He stepped around the counter, gently wrapped his fingers around her arm, and ushered her out of the kitchen. “Come on. Bed, please.”

“But … but …” Then she sighed. “Fine, but don’t expect me to be happy.”

Josie grumbled as she made her way to her bedroom while Max laughed at her. He spun back around and went to the top cupboards in search of a bowl. After opening several, he pulled out a black bowl and set it on the counter. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a folded piece of paper with something scribbled on it.

Curious, he set his fingertips on the paper and brought it closer. Then he picked it up and unfolded it to read what was written down.

 

Josie,

In case you wanted dinner in the meantime.

0423 540 535.

Zac.

 

Max frowned at the message.

Then he turned the page over to find that the dinner invite and phone number from a man named ‘Zac’ was written on Josie’s medical certificate. The discovery had him frowning as a sense of urgency filled him. He had no right to feel possessive.

She wasn’t his.

He was her friend.

His need to make sure this ‘Zac’ never went to dinner with Josie was unwarranted. If she wanted to date him, Max had to let her. He had no say in her personal life whatsoever.

At the bottom of the medical certificate, just below the signature, he noticed her doctor’s name.

Dr Zachary Ryder.

Zac was her doctor.

She had met him today.

Gotten his number today.

Max folded the certificate and set it back on the bench. He had no right to pry into Josie’s love life. If she wanted to date a doctor, she had his blessing. He wanted what was in her best interests.

And if that was her dating a man in the medical profession, then so be it.

But no doctor could ever understand her future career better than a lawyer.

No.

No one would understand her better than Max did.

He knew the pressure of law school.

Of placement.

And of actually being a practising lawyer.

He decided then to ignore what he saw. Be oblivious to her getting another man’s number. Max picked up the bowl and spun around. He reached over the bench and picked up the takeaway container filled with chicken soup. Carefully, he poured the hot contents into the black bowl and then set the plastic container down. Max took in the kitchen to find the drawer housing the utensils. When he made his way towards the skinny drawer, he pulled it opened. He took out a spoon, closed it, and headed to Josie’s room.

Upon reaching her door, he noticed the yellow sticky note on the door. He squinted at the note and read it.

 

No, I can’t read your mind.

I just knew you’d ask.

 

LOVE YOU.

Stella xo.

 

He found that quirk between Josie and her roommate, Stella, was sweet and sentimental. Knocking lightly on the door, he grasped the handle and twisted it. He peeked into the room to find it dark. The curtains covered the windows, and he could just see Josie lying on her side. He tiptoed towards her and sat on the empty side of her bed.

“Josephine, I have your …” He reached over and set his free hand on her shoulder. He peered over to find her eyes closed. “And you’re asleep.”

Max pulled back and set the bowl of soup on her bedside table. Then he got off the bed and made his way to her. He bent his knees and set his hand on her forehead.

Heat met his palm.

She was burning up.

She wasn’t kidding when she said she was sick.

Josie had a fever, and to ensure that she would get better, he let her sleep.

 

 

“You’re okay, Josephine,” a sweet voice whispered. “Sleep. Your fever’s gone down.”

She groaned as something cool touched her forehead.

He let out a deep chuckle. “Stop moving. You’re making the cloth fall off.”

Josie waved her arms to try to swipe away the hands on her. She kept her eyes closed, unable to open them. Her eyelids were still heavy and hot. “Too cold.”

“Too bad.”

She recognised that voice.

Her arms fell to rest on the bed. “Max?”

“Right here,” he confirmed. “I’m just gonna sit down next to you.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Soup’s gone cold. It’s just after four. Stella’s home.”

Stella …

Josie jerked up to a sitting position. Her head quickly succumbed to heat, but she pushed through the aches.

Stella was meant to call so she could speak to her mother, but she had fallen asleep. The room was still dark, and she tried to focus on her surroundings. The first thing her eyes landed on was Max staring at her.

“I’ve been asleep for four hours?”

Max nodded. “You have. I stayed for a bit but had to take a phone call, so I let you sleep. Changed the cloth several times when it warmed.”

She glanced down to find the wet cloth next to her on the bed. “I’m so sorry I fell asleep.” She reached over and flicked on the bedside lamp, illuminating his face and her room. The worry on his face mixed with the relieved gleam in his eyes.

Her heart swelled knowing he worried about her health.

That he looked after her.

Whatever spontaneous feelings she had towards the doctor she had met earlier today meant nothing.

Her heart wanted this man who pressed his palm to her forehead.

Her heart now beat his name.

Max.

Max, Max.

Max.

Doctors were nice, but lawyers, they were her weakness.

Actually, Maxwell Sheridan had become her weakness.

“Yep, the fever’s going down,” he announced with glee tinting his voice.

Josie let out a soft moan once he set the cold, wet cloth back on her forehead. It was relief.

The cold mixing and extinguishing the hot.

Closing her eyes, she melted into his touch the moment he used his free hand to cup her jaw.

He was definitely her saviour in her time of need.

Max.

Max, Max, Max, her heart sang.

A soft moan escaped her lips and boomed loudly in her ears.

But at that moment, she didn’t care.

“I like you, Max,” she whispered.

His thumb pressed just below her bottom lip. Relieved her eyes were closed, she memorised his touch and what it did to her. Tomorrow, she’d blame it on her sickness. Take it back to save her pride and her heart.

“As a friend?”

She felt as if his words caressed her lips with how close she suspected he was. That thumb of his gently moved to the corner of her mouth.

She hummed and shook her head lightly.

“Max,” she breathed as the cloth fell away from her forehead and another hand steadied her jaw.

“Yes, Josephine.”

God, the way he says my name.

“To be very honest and real with you …”

“Yes?”

“I like you …” She lifted her eyelids to find his light brown eyes staring at her. Wide and beautiful. She dragged her teeth on her bottom lip before saying in a low voice, “In whatever way you want me to like you.”

Those beautiful eyes of his softened as he leant forward and pressed his forehead to hers. Just for a moment, he held her there. Then he whispered, “Honestly. Like me honestly, Josephine.”

When he pulled back slightly, she asked, “Will you like me honestly?”

“I will,” he vowed as he brought her closer to him, this time pressing his warm lips against her forehead. The searing heat between her fever and his lips caused the jolt in her chest and the heaviness in her eyelids to take over and forced them to fall closed.

And she didn’t care that she began to hum her mother’s favourite song.

It felt perfect for this moment.

For him.

For them.

La

Vie

En

Rose.

The room was dark when she woke up.

Josie was alone.

Raising her hand up, she grasped the dry cloth and removed it from her forehead. She let it fall to the bed as she sat herself up. The last thing she remembered was humming to Max before her body succumbed to sleep. Josie slowly swung her legs over her bed so that her feet lay flat on the carpet. She was about to get up off the bed when she noticed her phone. She picked it up to find her mother had sent her a message.

 

Mamma: Josephine, Stella stopped by to visit. She told me you’re sick. Drink plenty of fluids. Take care of yourself. We tried to call, but you must have been resting. I will be out of hospital soon. Dr Frederickson says I’m recovering from the fever, and we can start chemo in a week. I love you, my sweet Josephine.

 

Tears began to well.

She knew her mother must be feeling a lot better if she was able to send a text message. Josie read the message once more, and those tears that formed slid down her cheeks. She reached up and brushed them away because they were tears of relief. Her mother still had strength in her to continue fighting.

And Josie believed in her.

Just like she had always believed in her mother.

Josie glanced at the time on her phone to see that it was 9:26 p.m. She had slept for another five hours. But unlike when she woke up this afternoon, she felt better. Her body didn’t feel as hot. Didn’t feel as heavy or sluggish. She had needed the additional five hours.

Now the only problem she had was that she’d be awake all night, and she was hungry. She knew the chance of Max saving the soup was highly unlikely, but she knew bread and peanut butter were in the kitchen waiting for her. After quickly texting her mother that she was feeling a little better and that she loved her, she got up from the bed and made her way out of her bedroom. Closing the door behind her, she noticed a sticky note next to the one Stella had stuck on her door. The dim light wasn’t enough for her to read it properly. She lifted her phone so that the brightness illuminated the note.

 

Josie,

Stella said I could join in on the note sharing.

Hope you’re feeling better.

Max.

 

She couldn’t stop the smile that splayed on her lips. And she couldn’t help the way her heart sped up at the memories of him on her bed, holding her so intimately.

Honestly.

He wanted her to like him honestly.

And he had promised he’d like her honestly, too.

However, that could still mean platonically, and that little reminder brought reality back to sprinkle its “come back to the real world, Josie” dust all over her. But tonight, she would let her foolish heart hope for more.

The sounds of women talking caught her attention. Josie spun around and made her way down the short hallway and into the living room to find the TV on. Then she heard the theme song and noticed Max sitting on the couch. He hadn’t heard her. She leant against the corner of the entryway and watched as he nodded his head along to the Gilmore Girls theme song. She recognised the episode. It was when Rory moved into her Yale dorm to discover that Paris was her roommate. When she had watched that episode with Stella, they would always fight over who was Paris.

To end every Gilmore Girls fight they had, they both conceded that neither were Paris or Rory. And that fight would turn into who Rory should have ended up with.

Jess or Logan.

Stella was Jess all the way.

Josie was still torn between the two.

She had her reasons.

But she sided with Jess. She just never admitted it to Stella so she could avoid the ‘I told you she has to be with Jess!’ talk.

Josie smiled when Max let out an ‘ahh’ when Lorelai noticed the ‘R.G.’ sticky note on Rory’s bedroom door. He had made the connection. It had been what sparked Josie and Stella’s sticky note messages. Pushing off the wall, she made her way towards him and smiled when he swung his gaze to her. Josie didn’t say anything as she sat down on the couch next to him. She had made sure to leave space between them, but it seemed Max didn’t want space as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.

“You sleep okay?” he asked, looking down at her. That softness in his eyes from hours ago was still there.

Soft and sweet.

His arm remained wrapped around her, and Josie rested the side of her head on his shoulder.

There had been a shift in their relationship.

Honestly could be in the makings.

It felt as if it were happening right now.

But then she pulled back. Not because she wanted to, but because she remembered she was still sick. There would be no more bodily contact with him until she was better and had a clearer, non-flu-fogged mind.

“I slept great,” she confirmed with a small smile.

“You feeling any better?”

“A little.”

“That’s good,” he said, his arm still wrapped around her shoulder.

Josie glanced over at the screen to see Lorelai telling Rory to do a re-walk-in of her dorm room since she had missed it. “You’re watching Gilmore Girls.”

Max gently squeezed her arm. “Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. Stella and I were talking, and she noticed that you hadn’t watched it. She asked if she could play the episode where Rory graduates in the background while she made you fresh soup. It’s still on the stove. I can heat you up some if you want?”

“Hmm, not just yet. I can’t believe Stella made me soup.”

“I told her about your soup going cold when she came home, and I had walked out of your room ready to throw it. She went down to the shops to get everything.”

She loved her roommate more than she could possibly love another nonrelated human being. Tomorrow, she’d have to thank her. Josie would write the corniest Gilmore Girls pun note Stella had ever read.

Josie’s brows furrowed when she realised exactly where Max was at on the Gilmore Girls timeline. “Wait. You’ve watched Rory graduate, right?” She craned her neck to see Max nodding at her. “This is season four.”

Another nod from Max. “Stella changed it before she went to bed.”

Josie’s jaw dropped. “And you’ve been watching it since?”

“I have. You don’t mind that I’m ahead?”

She laughed as Max removed his arm from around her, and he turned to face her.

“I’ve seen every episode at least three times,” she explained. “Have you ever seen Gilmore Girls?”

“Nah. I was too busy chasing girls, which is a shame because I really should have. I cannot take my eyes off Lorelai Gilmore.” He then frowned. “Who is Jess?”

There was a gasp behind them, and they both noticed Stella in her pjs with her palm to her chest. “You don’t know who Jess is?”

“He’s going to meet Logan first, Stella,” Josie teased.

Her best friend shook her head. “No. That cannot happen. You have to watch this from the start, Max.” Then Stella scurried over to the cabinet where all the DVDs called home. She pressed her foot on the switch of the tall lamp next to the cabinet and searched inside. Seconds later, she pulled out handfuls of Gilmore Girls DVDs. “You don’t have plans for this weekend, do you, Max?”

“Stella,” Josie hissed.

“What?” her best friend asked as she walked over and set the DVDs on the glass table. “He can’t just ask who Jess is right before he meets Logan. That’s not fair, and you know it.”

Max chuckled next to her. “I’m guessing she’s a Jess fan?”

“She is. Now, you have to be prepared if you want to start a Gilmore Girls marathon. Once you start, you can’t stop—especially if Stella is watching, too. And trust me, she hates the first season because it drags and because of Dean.”

“Dean?”

And on cue, Stella groaned as she lowered herself onto the other leather couch. “I can’t stand Dean. It’s torture watching the first season.”

Josie watched as Max nodded along with Stella. “But we like Luke, right?”

Her heart had all but given up the absurd fight it was having.

Max had said we.

Not just her and him.

But we as in her, him, and Stella.

And that had her falling for him quicker than Lorelai convincing Luke for a cup of coffee with her wit and charm.

Stella looked over at Josie and gave her that squinted look. The “he’s too perfect” look. It was the same look she had given her when she had first started dating West and had introduced Josie to him. Josie hoped the expression she was giving back was the “Don’t get any ideas. We’re friends!” look.

Stella jumped off the couch and nodded as she picked up the first season of Gilmore Girls. “Oh, we are so Luke for Lorelai.”

Max leant back on the couch. “Good. I like Luke.”

“Then you’re going to love Jess,” Stella remarked as she opened the DVD and got to work introducing Max to the first season of one of TV’s finest shows.

It was just after 1:30 a.m. when episode four and the first disc ended.

Max hadn’t said much during the four episodes they watched with Stella. He had his little remarks. Stella’s favourite had been, “This Dean kid has a hidden agenda. Yeah, I don’t like him.” She had also shot Josie that “you have to be with him” look when he had excused himself to go to the bathroom. Then halfway through the second episode, he had heated Josie and Stella a bowl of Stella’s—but actually Stella’s mother’s—perfect every time chicken soup. Stella had practically forced Max back into the kitchen to make himself a bowl.

And when she asked him for his opinion, he had told her that the title of “perfect every time” was justified. If he was lying to impress her best friend, Max did so flawlessly.

“She’s asleep,” Max pointed out.

Josie glanced over to find Stella sprawled out on the leather couch. She smiled at the peaceful-looking, Jess-loving best friend of hers.

“Should we wake her up?”

She got up off the couch, flinching when the aches in her head returned. They weren’t as painful as earlier in the day, but they were still troublesome.

“You feeling okay?” Max asked.

She glanced down and gave him a reassuring smile. “I am. I’ll get her a blanket from the linen closet. Helpful hint—never wake up a sleeping Stella Weller.”

“Wait,” Max said between stifled chuckles. “Stella’s last name is Weller?”

“Yeah. You didn’t know that?”

“No.” More laughter from him. “I would have remembered. Julian is going to piss himself. He’s gonna wanna meet her.”

Josie rolled her eyes. “Of course, he does. Her father was the one to name her Stella. He thought it would be adorable. She got teased a lot, apparently. But it never hurt her because, to this day, she loves that her name rhymes. She’s already vowed never to take West’s name if they ever get married.”

“I like that,” Max said as he got up off the couch. “I’ll turn this off.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back in a second. I’ll just grab the blanket.” It took her a matter of minutes to grab the spare fluffy blanket from the linen closet in the hallway. She could have grabbed the thin blanket in the trunk by the window, but the fluffy mink blankets were Stella’s favourite. When she returned, the TV was off, and Max took the blanket from her and gently covered her best friend with it.

It was sweet and unnecessary of him.

But she appreciated it wholeheartedly.

Josie had walked over to the lamp and turned it off before she led Max away from the lounge room and to the dimly lit hallway. Josie had left her phone on the couch she and Max had sat on, but she knew it was too late for him to drive.

“Do you want to stay the night?” she asked in a soft voice.

Max’s eyes widened. “Is that okay?”

She lightly laughed. “We’re adults, Max. If you want, you can sleep in my bed, and I’ll sleep in Stella’s. That way you won’t catch what I’ve got.”

Max stepped a fraction closer, stealing the little air between them as he set his hands on the nape of her neck, drawing her closer. “I’ve had a flu shot, Josie. I’m okay with sharing a bed with you.”

“Like with a pillow between us?”

He nodded in agreement. “If that makes you feel more comfortable.”

They were going to share a bed.

Her bed.

His body covered by the same blanket as hers.

The thought that his strong arms might wrap around her had her shivering.

“Josie, you all right?” His hand shot up and pressed against her forehead. “Okay, let’s get you to bed. Your fever’s still there.”

His touch was soft and calculated.

Not too much pressure.

Enough to make tingles flutter over her skin.

Oh, she most definitely was delirious from him.

The thought had her correcting her softening posture. When she was sure she wouldn’t fall over, she nodded. She was glad that the dimmed lights hid her heated cheeks.

Max’s hands left her face, and he turned in the direction of the hallway that led to her bedroom. Taking a small breath of air, Josie began to lead him to her bedroom. It dawned on her that this was the first time a man would ever share her bed. She had a strict no-hookup-sleepover rule. Her apartment was too lavish to trust some of her previous boyfriends or casual flings to be left alone in. It also cheapened her wild persona to have a place bought by her father. Her rebelliousness would be questioned. And she didn’t want Stella to see or have any contact with the men she had slept with. Nor did Josie want her to hear the lacklustre sex she was having.

When she stopped at her bedroom door, Max reached over and grasped the handle. It took him no trouble at all to open and hold the door for her. Josie stepped inside and stood at the foot of her queen-size bed. A flick of the light switch by Max had the room brightening.

Then she took in her bed.

It was a mess.

The blanket she had laid on top of was all wrinkled.

And the pillows no longer perfectly aligned.

“Right or left?” Max asked once he closed the door behind her and stood by her side.

Josie peeked up to find him staring down at her. “What?”

“Do you sleep on the left side or the right?”

Her lips made an ‘O’ as she understood his question. “I sleep in the middle most of the time.”

“And the other times?”

“The side closest the window.”

Max nodded as he walked around her and to the side of the bed she had just slept on. She watched in amazement as he flung the covers back and readjusted the pillow.

“Are you also gonna tuck me in?” she teased as she made her way to him.

“If you want me to,” he said in a throaty voice.

Josie shook her head. “No, I can manage.”

Max stepped back and gave her space to climb on the bed and lie down. Before she could even reach out for it, Max had covered her with the blanket.

“Not too warm?”

She shook her head as her eyes began to droop. “I’m good.”

A yawn left her as she wiggled in the bed to get comfortable.

“Can you turn off the light and get in here?”

A sweet smile spread across his perfect lips. The same lips that had pressed against her forehead. “No pillow between us?”

“We’re both adults,” she answered softer than she would have liked. Then she rolled onto her left side and tucked her hands under her cheek. Her eyes drifted closed seconds later.

Josie heard the light flick off and then Max’s tepid footsteps. The bed dipped under his weight, and then he whispered, “Josephine?”

“Yes, Max?” Eyes still closed, she willed her lungs to commence a normal sequence of breaths.

“You don’t mind if I take off my shirt, do you? My pants are fine once I take the belt off.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, hating that she loved the idea of her friend—who had spent the day looking after her—being shirtless as they slept.

“I don’t mind.”

“Thanks,” he said, and she heard him begin to undress.

Josie blinked her eyes open, only seeing the darkness of her room.

She waited.

Memorised each breath he took.

Cherished the way those small sounds made her heart beat his name.

She knew she was long past the fall.

She was currently spiralling out of control.

And there was no way to stop it.

Josie heard the belt buckle hit the carpet and then another sound. It was softer, and she assumed his shirt had joined the belt on the floor.

Then the bed dipped once more, and she felt the tug of the blanket.

She was tempted to see just how he slept. If he faced her or his back was turned to her. The urge to peek made her restless. Josie wiggled once more in the bed and finally found comfort.

“Josie,” Max said into her dark room.

Josie had held her breath for a long moment before she released it. “Yes?”

She waited for him to speak, wondering if he was still awake or if he’d whispered her name in his sleep.

The covers moved, and she felt him turn next to her. “Can you face me for a second?”

Exhaling, she readjusted herself so that she now lay facing Max. She couldn’t see the features of his face, but he had reached out and set his fingers on her jaw for a long moment. Josie said nothing, too afraid her voice would betray her and expose her feelings. All she could do was wait and be thankful the darkness around them hid her face.

Max’s fingertips slowly made their way down her jaw and along her neck. Then his touch disappeared until his palm found her hip.

“I don’t want to be Max,” he whispered as his thumb circled her hip, causing the almost audible gasp to escape her. “Not to you, Josie. I don’t want to be Max.”

“What?” she asked once his thumb halted its movements.

“I watched the start of season four. I don’t want to be the Max to your Lorelai. I want to be Luke,” Max revealed. “Your Luke.”

After that, Max said nothing more, his revelation met with silence, and his soft inhales.

And sleep took a long time to find Josie.