Connor had been the first person to offer him a break. Not just a break, but a light at the end of the tunnel.
Max shouldn’t really have been surprised that he had all kinds of complicated feelings for him.
“I think I’m bi,” Max said in a rush, right as the thought hit him. He’d wanted to say it for days, but he hadn’t been sure who to say it to.
Connor deserved to hear it first. He’d been so patient with Max’s bullshit.
And he was leaving soon, so he was safe to come out to. If Max decided he wanted to keep it a secret later, he’d only told one person, and that person wouldn’t be around anymore.
As much as Max was starting to hate the thought of Connor not being around.
Connor looked up from where he was arranging crackers on a wooden cutting board, his eyes wide.
“That came outta nowhere, huh?” Max said, scratching the back of his neck. Nerves were creeping up on him now, the urge to explain himself warring with the fact that he didn’t know how. “I just… I’ve been thinking, a lot, about you, and about… other stuff, and… I thought you should know that I’m at least getting somewhere.”
“I’m honored that you picked me to come out to first,” Connor said. “And I won’t tell another soul until you tell me otherwise.”
Max breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”
He’d come out in his own time. Now that he’d said it out loud, the whole idea was so damned exciting.
He felt more like himself already. More like he was becoming the person he was meant to be.
All thanks to Connor, and his kindness and patience.
… and his great ass, but Max wasn’t sure that part was supposed to go in the list of things he was grateful for.
“I mean, I figure you kinda knew anyway, but…”
“I wouldn’t have assumed anything until you told me yourself. Maybe you would have picked a different label, maybe you wouldn’t have wanted one at all, maybe… maybe the last few weeks have been a weird blip in an otherwise totally straight existence.”
“No,” Max said, shaking his head. “No, it’s not… it’s not just you. I didn’t see it before, I guess because I was too young and stupid to really know how I felt, but… it’s not just you. And I’ve spent a long time not quite being able to put my finger on what made me feel weird. Different, y’know? Even if all my friends are gay.”
“None of your friends are quite like you,” Connor said. “They’re good people, but… they’ve had different lives, and they’re at different stages. I don’t think it’s unusual that you didn’t figure it out sooner.”
Max blinked at him.
“Sorry,” Connor said. “I’ve… been thinking about you a lot.”
He smiled a warm, kind smile that made Max blush.
“Well, anyway… there it is, and I just wanted you to know.”
“I sincerely appreciate that,” Connor said, unpacking the last few containers and spreading everything out between them.
“Are you expecting, like, fifteen more people?” Max asked. “Because this is a lot of food.”
“At the risk of sounding like my grandma, you don’t eat enough. I wanted to make sure there was plenty.”
Max wet his lips, shifting to sit down with his back against the tree beside Connor. It was more than wide enough for both of them to lean against it, with most of their picnic between them.
Max grabbed a crusty roll stuffed with filling, peering at it in an attempt to identify the ingredients.
“It’s roast chicken, and stuffing, and an apple slaw,” Connor said. “But I didn’t roast the chicken myself. It came that way from the supermarket.”
Max chuckled. “You could have told me you roasted it yourself. I would’ve believed you.”
“I’d never lie to you,” Connor said softly. “Not even about roast chicken.”
Max hesitated, looking over at Connor. He didn’t know how to respond to that, but he knew it was important.
“Thank you,” he said eventually. It didn’t seem like enough, and he had so much to thank Connor for, but he barely knew where to start.
He focused on his sandwich instead, taking a generous bite and making a soft, happy noise as all the flavors hit him. Connor might not have roasted the chicken, but he sure as hell knew his way around a sandwich.
He seemed to know his way around all the nice things in life. Clothes, food, home decor… all the things Max had never really had time for.
It was nice to have that shared with him. Aside from the wedding itself, Connor had done a lot for Max in the process of planning it.
He’d never forget that.
“That sounded like approval,” Connor said, grabbing a roll for himself. “The other ones are braised pork belly, and I did cook that myself.”
“You’re spoiling me,” Max responded between mouthfuls of his sandwich.
“That’s the general idea.” Connor nodded, his tongue darting out to catch a few stray crumbs on his lips. “You’re like a puppy. I wanna give you treats and rub your belly.”
“Kinky.” Max grinned to himself.
Connor chuckled. “You know what I mean.”
“I think I get the idea,” Max said. “And I appreciate this. All of this. Everything you’ve done for me, everything you’ve shown me.”
“It’s been a genuine pleasure.” Connor turned to look at him. “I don’t get to share my weird little world very often. No one cares what I do, as long as I do it. It’s been nice to have someone take an interest.”
Max nodded, turning that thought over in his mind. He hadn’t really been aware of doing it, but he had definitely been interested in Connor’s world.
In Connor himself.
Even if he knew that Connor wanted more than a small town in the middle of nowhere, and a boy who’d never left it and didn’t want to. Connor was used to big things, and Max’s world was very small.
Which was a shame, but he’d never forget everything Connor had done for him, and been for him.
His friend, and his first time.
That would always mean something to Max, whatever happened after this.
“So… stop me if I’m prying, but… you were really upset over that woman on the TV, and I’m kinda wondering… what happened? How did you end up here?”
Connor snorted, biting into his sandwich again. Max stayed silent while he chewed and swallowed, figuring that if Connor was going to open up to him, he would, and if he wasn’t, there was no point in pushing.
“I quit as her wedding planner on her wedding day,” Connor said eventually. “Which was childish, because I did it over an insult instead of doing it over how impossible she was to work with. But then… well, I’d walked out on the biggest break of my career, and all the gossip magazines ran the story at the time, and it… put a dent in my career. Clients I’d had on long waitlists cancelled on me. I went from having a booming, successful business to having… nothing, pretty much overnight.”
“Jesus,” Max said. “I had no idea.”
Connor waved his hand. “It’s in the past,” he said. “Mostly, I was mad that I was the only person who was willing to say no to her. But anyway, I’d heard about this place a while back from a friend who came here one summer, and I thought, y’know, maybe I’d look it up. And the rent was cheap, and it seemed nice, so I moved out here to lick my wounds and sulk for a while. Plus, I needed time to figure out what to do next.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Max said once he’d finished the last of his sandwich.
“I was, but now I’m not,” Connor responded, running a hand through his hair. “I like to think I ended up exactly where I needed to be. If all that hadn’t happened, I would never have met you.”
Max swallowed. Connor thought meeting him was worth all of that?
That was… intense.
Not at all what he’d expected to hear.
Connor probably meant that he thought he was supposed to help Zoe. That made m
ore sense than the idea that he thought meeting Max was a fair trade for all the crap he’d been through.
Yeah, that was obviously it.
Max had been stupid to think otherwise, even for a second. Even if it had been wishful thinking.
“It’s still rough,” Max said. “You’re tougher than you look.”
“I’d need to be.” Connor smiled wryly. “I don’t look tough at all.”
Max laughed at that, his sadness at hearing what a hard time Connor had been through lifting a little. He hated that Connor had been hurt, but selfishly, he was glad Connor had ended up here, too.
He wasn’t sure where he would have been now without him.
“So… I’ve told you my life story,” Connor said after a moment. “I think that makes it your turn. If you want.”
Max took a deep breath, grabbing one of the plain crackers from the board Connor had set out to nibble on between sandwiches. “I… are you sure you wanna hear this? Because it’s kinda… intense.”
“You listened to me,” Connor said, shifting a tiny bit closer to Max. “I want to listen to you. If you wanna talk.”
Max wet his lips, unsure where to start.
“I, well… I was born here in Hope Springs. My mom worked in the town hall, my dad was a mechanic. When I was ten years old, mom told me she was pregnant, and I was so excited to have a little sister. And everything was fine until I was about fourteen and Zoe started showing symptoms. But we got it under control, and mom had good health insurance, so we were okay. And then dad got sick.”
Max jumped as he felt Connor touch his hand, but let him take it and link their fingers together. He hadn’t realized how tightly clenched his fist was until he relaxed his hand for Connor.
As much as he wanted to tell Connor all this, it was still upsetting.
“He had lung cancer. Didn’t notice for a long time, because he kind of always had a cough. By the time they caught it… it was way too late. He died the summer I turned eighteen.”
“I’m sorry, Max,” Connor said, squeezing his hand.
Max swallowed, sniffing to keep tears back. “Anyway… we were still okay for a while, but then Zoe started getting worse, and mom was still on leave after dad died, so… we didn’t have any insurance. By the time mom was ready to go back to work, Zoe couldn’t go to school every day, so… she had to be homeschooled. Mom got a job working nights at the diner on the freeway exit not far from our house. And I dropped out of college and took as many jobs as I could get to hold it all together and start saving for Zoe’s hip replacement.”
“Max, I…” Connor began, his voice breaking.
When Max turned to look at him, there were tears in his eyes.
This time, it was Max’s turn to squeeze Connor’s hand.
“Don’t cry for me,” he said softly. “I’m okay.”
“You’ve been through so much,” Connor said. “I don’t think I would’ve had the strength.”
“I’ve just been doing what I have to do,” Max said. “It sounds like a lot, but it’s been happening one day at a time.”
“You have no idea how amazing you are.” Connor shifted closer, resting his head against Max’s shoulder.
Max nibbled on his cracker. “You’re pretty amazing yourself,” he said, turning to face Connor.
To his surprise, Connor pecked him on the lips. Max blushed from the tips of his ears to his collarbones, the heat of it rolling through him.
“That means a lot coming from you,” Connor murmured. “We’re gonna win this. We’re gonna change your life.”
“You’ve already changed my life,” Max said seriously. “I mean that. What you’ve done for me has been huge, and I’ve learned so much, and I will always be grateful for that. Whatever happens. Even if we don’t win.”
If they won, Connor would leave. Max knew that.
And while he wanted to win for Zoe… the thought of losing Connor along the way was eating at him.
He wanted Connor to know how much he meant to him before that happened. Maybe he’d be back someday. Maybe they could pick up where they left off.
There was no way he could back out now—Connor would hate him for it, and this was his best chance to help Zoe, but…
Right now, he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that all this was coming to an end, and that he still wanted more.
The best he could do was savor what he had, while he had it.
“Ditto,” Connor said. “I’ve had more fun doing this than I have in a long time. You reminded me of what I love about my job.”
“Good,” Max said. “Because you’ve given me so much.”
“Only what you deserve,” Connor said, rubbing his thumb over the back of Max’s hand. “Now eat your other sandwich.”
Max laughed, taking the other sandwich as instructed. “Yes, sir,” he teased, biting into it and making a happy sound as the perfectly-balanced flavors hit his tongue.
He’d never really been on a date before, but future dates would have a hard time topping this one in terms of catering and emotional intimacy.
However this all ended, Connor had changed his life, and Max would never, ever forget him.
But deep down, he would have preferred it not to end at all.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Of course, I understand,” Connor said, his head spinning. “Please, tell her to take care and not to worry, we’ll be okay. Thank you for letting me know.”
He hung up the phone, panic rising in his chest, making it feel tight.
He needed to sit down.
Connor grabbed a chair from one of the front tables, cursing under his breath as the legs got tangled, yanking it out hard enough to knock the centerpiece over and practically collapsing onto it.
He tried to take a deep breath, but he felt as though he was suffocating. Blood pounded in his ears, the rush of it deafening.
This wasn’t happening. After all his hard work. All of Max’s hard work.
“Connor?”
Connor looked up at the familiar voice, finding Max standing directly in front of him. He hadn’t even heard him approach, too busy spiraling into panic to pay attention to his surroundings.
“Are you okay?” Max asked, pulling the other chair away from the table and swinging it around, sitting down right in front of Connor, close enough that their knees touched.
The simple contact with Max was just enough to bring him some of the way back. Enough to explain what was going on.
“The celebrant isn’t coming,” he said, his voice trembling. “That was her wife on the phone. She has laryngitis. I can’t… I don’t…”
“Shh,” Max soothed, putting his hands on Connor’s knees. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay!” Connor said, louder than he’d intended to. “Everything’s falling apart and I can’t fix it.”
“Now would be a bad time to tell you that Marcus’ delivery van broke down, huh?” Max asked.
Connor stared at him. “Yes! Yes, it would be a bad time!”
He didn’t intend to snap at Max, but he was right on the edge of running off into the woods, screaming at the top of his lungs, never to be heard from again.
He’d forgotten how stressful it was when things went wrong, and when it was his own wedding, even if it was fake, thinking past the stress to find a solution felt impossible.
“Don’t freak out,” Max said.
“Way too late for that,” Connor responded, a wave of nausea washing over him, his head light.
He wanted to cry. He wanted to go and sit in the corner and cry until everyone left, but he knew he couldn’t do that.
Not after they’d come this far.
All the same, he could feel tears welling up in his eyes, making them sting. He wasn’t going to get a choice about whether or not he ended up crying.
Max squeezed his knees gently, pulling Connor back to the real world.
“Hey, look at me,” he murmured, his voice so low that Connor could only bare
ly hear it. Connor looked up at him, meeting his striking blue eyes.
Normally, he could have gotten lost in Max’s eyes for days. Right now, it was a struggle to even look at them.
“Now close your eyes and focus on my voice,” Max said, to Connor’s relief. He followed Max’s instructions, happy to take orders from anyone who might know what they were doing right now.
He felt so damned incompetent. Normally, he would have had backups for his backups.
He’d forgotten. Or he’d been too optimistic, and assumed that everything would work out just because he really wanted it to.
Maybe Dominique was right. Maybe he had no business being a wedding planner after all.
“Take a deep breath,” Max said. Connor obeyed, filling his lungs as much as he could, pushing aside the urge to gasp for air. “Now let it out,” Max continued after a moment.
“Breathe in, breathe out,” Max said, pausing between instructions to force Connor to take deep, calming breaths.
He’d obviously done this before.
Connor sat back in the chair, resting his hands in his lap and letting himself breathe, count to five, and then let it go over and over.
After what felt like hours, he opened his eyes again, ready to face Max. There were tear tracks drying on his cheeks, and he probably looked like crap, but at least he didn’t want to die anymore.
“You must think I’m an idiot,” he said, sniffing as one last tear rolled down his cheek.
Max reached out, wiping the tear away with his thumb.
Out of everything they’d shared, that may well have been the most tender, intimate gesture yet.
“I don’t think you’re an idiot. I think you’re stressed, and overworked, and having a normal reaction to extra stress on top of everything you’re already dealing with.”
Connor sniffed again. “I guess,” he said.
Max had a way of being nice to him that made it hard to keep beating himself up. If Max believed in him, Connor figured he should believe in himself.
“I’m gonna figure this out,” Max promised. “You’ve done enough. It’s time for me to have your back.”
Connor swallowed. He was supposed to be planning this wedding, not Max. None of this was supposed to be Max’s responsibility.
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