“There’s no way I’m going on a date with you,” I scoffed, making my way deeper into the house.I knew I wanted to—God, I really did—but I wasn’t about to let him know that. Not with the smug way he looked at me.Max trailed behind, calm and unbothered, like he had all the time in the world. He followed me all the way to my bedroom. And he made no hesitation into entering my room, like boundaries were something meant for everyone else but him. “So you‘d rather go on a date with a complete stranger, than go out with me?” He asked, his voice hitched with jealousy.I turned back to face him, my brows raised. “Last I remember, you said you had no interest in me. So what does it matter who I go out with?” I pressed on, I knew what I wanted to get out of him.I didn’t even want the date with kelvin. That whole thing was just—ugh. But I just wanted him to admit he actually had some interest.He let out a quiet groan, dragging a hand through his hair and finally lowering his pride. “Quincy…w
“Do you want to talk about what happened yesterday?” I asked as I entered the living room, where Max was comfortably sitting, looking like he had no worries in te world.Since all the chaos of yesterday, my mind hadn’t stopped spinning. From the almost-kiss with Max almost to the dramatic entrance of his ex- wife—everything had been whirlwind. And he had gone silent with me since then, like nothing happened.Without glancing at me, he responded flatly. “No.”My jaws dropped slightly. “Not even a thank you for saving you?” I wasn’t trying to sound petty—I just wanted some kind of acknowledgment. I needed to know I wasn’t invisible too him.He finally took his eyes off the TV, offering me a glance that barely lasted five seconds.“Thank you for what?” He asked, his tone calm and reserved as if we were talking about the weather.My brows shot up. “For keeping your secret from your wife.” My pitch rose with a sharp edge of frustration. I didn’t bother hiding.I hated that he has stirred
I have been at the penthouse for a while now, and I haven’t really had any proper section with Max. Honestly, it didn’t feel like he needed one. He worked around like a man on holiday peacefully and entirely unbothered as though he had escaped reality instead of recovering from an injury.It wasn’t like he’d fractured anything. Just a minor sprain in his leg. Nothing serious, nothing pressing.I had just finished putting together my enormous room— it was so big, I still got lost in it sometimes— and I was getting ready to head out to the hospital. I needed to pick up some files and equipment, just in case Max's ‘little sprain’ turned into something more demanding. Then I heard it.“Hey, Quincy.”The words barely landed before the door to my room flung open, no knock, no warning.I turned quickly, startled— and there he was. Max stood in my doorway, like a scene from a daydream I wasn’t ready for. The morning light kissed his skin, making his already-golden glow even more dazzling an
Quincy’s povThe doors slammed shut behind him loudly. Maxwell had left and I stood there, suspended in confusion, my heart pacing faster than my thought could keep. “Why didn’t he kiss me? Does he feel nothing for me?” I questioned myself, her mind swirling with different thoughts.I turned slightly, my eyes falling once again on this scattered magazine, still curious about what was written on that paper. Skeptical of checking it out again, I shook my head and just walked away.I made her way down the hallway. The penthouse sprawled out around me, luxurious and intimidating. Still, my mind wasn’t in the room anymore__ it played scenes like reels, imagined kisses and slow embraces with Max, scenes that had never happened but felt dangerously close to real. I wasn’t sure what to think, or what my next move would be. Before I could make sense of anything, I was already outside.I arrived home after a long ride of distance, my drive home was full of delusions and loved scenes with Max
QUINCY POVThe last time I saw Maxwell Russo, we were seventeen and both barefoot on a wet football field. He kissed me and promised me forever. His family sent him overseas after that… or so I heard, and forever was only a week long.He sat before me now in a cinched grey T-shirt, sling across his arm, looking nothing like the kid I had once known—and somehow, exactly the same."So… you're a nurse now," he'd said, after an awkward pause."And you're… not actually crippled, are you?" I said, raising my eyebrow.His mouth quirked. "You were always quick.""I work with orthopedics. That's not an actual brace, Max."He held up his hands. "Okay, okay. You caught me. Let's just say this was a strategic misdirection."I crossed my arms. "Does the hospital know you're lying or you’re faking this whole…?""Apparently, I’m not lying ," he corrected. "And yes. Ashley's involved. This was the least messy way out of that damn marriage." He murmured the last part.I blinked. "You faked an injury t
MAXWELL POVI had to admit, Dr. Ashley was dramatic. "You want to fake an injury," he stated flatly, holding a foam neck brace in one hand and a roll of gauze in the other."No," I started, "I want to speed up the inevitable. If Nora believes I'm no longer 'public-worthy,' she'll sign the divorce without turning it into a Broadway spectacle."Ryan raised an eyebrow. "You're playing on her vanity."I shrugged indifferently. "It's not manipulation if it's the truth."He tossed the brace on the couch and let out a sigh. "Most people break up over one-night stands and texts. You stage a car accident and bribe a doctor."“Well, something has to work," I muttered.He laughed sharply. "You need help.""Guess, you’re my help."Ashley adjusted his stethoscope around his neck. “Lucky me.”He examined the fake reports he had drawn up—dislocated shoulder, minor back strain, nerve compression. All believable. All temporary.I slipped on the sling. “Convincing?”Ashley studied me, then nodded. “Co