Page 25 of Moving Forward

“Sounds like something I’m familiar with,” I note. Puffing out my chest, I add, “We men like stone. Carve cave drawings with sharpness of mood swings.”

She throws her head back and laughs, her eyes closing, mouth falling open, chest rising and falling. My footsteps falter. My gaze is glued to her, tracking every move she makes and memorizing it. I wish I could spend the rest of my life playing this moment over and over, reminding myself that this is life. Being with Max, laughing and talking with her, is the most alive that I’ve ever felt.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

MAX

The Millers’ farmhouse is lit up like a Christmas tree. All of the windows are open, letting the family’s chatter spill out into the night. Cain glances nervously up at the house. I can tell he’s once again reminded of my connection to Ethan. Even though the night started out a little rough, it’s ending beautifully. I can’t remember the last time I smiled this much. Cain doesn’t just dampen all the overwhelming emotions. He also magnifies the good ones.

“Thanks for walking me home,” I murmur.

His expression softens as he tears his eyes away from the house. Since he admitted to hurting Ethan, I’ve started seeing him a bit differently. I want to hate him for what he did, but I can’t seem to bring myself to do that. Whoever he was . . . it isn’t who he is today. I won’t judge him by his past when my heart tells me he’s a good man now. I want him to be in my life as much as I want Danny and Ellie to be. We’ve already grown attached to each other. I’m not ready for that to end. In two weeks I’ll be gone. While the prospect still thrills me, the thought of leaving Cain is almost crippling. Hopefully whatever light he’s brought to my life won’t leave when we go our separate ways.

He’s also a cautionary tale for who I was quickly becoming—broken, unemotional, an isolationist. I want something better than that for both of us.

“Hey,” Cain whispers. He reaches for my face but drops his hand before he touches me. “What’s crowding that pretty head of yours?” He tilts his head and his mouth quirks up at the side. His smiles are rare, and his laughs are even rarer. Throughout our walk, I’d catch him looking over at me with that small lip quirk, as if he was amused by me.

“Sometimes,” I admit, tilting my head back to look up at the stars, “I think too much.”

“Join the club.” He studies my profile. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch his eyebrows furrow like he’s trying to look right into my mind. “I know we don’t know each other well, but you know you can tell me anything, right?”

I nod. That’s what scares me the most. If we can admit to each other that living is sometimes too much, then we’re both in too deep. That’s not something you tell a stranger, sometimes not even a friend.

“Do you think the stars get lonely?” I ask in a whisper.

I expect him to ask if I’d had something to drink tonight. I’m already internally yelling at myself for saying that out loud. But he tilts his head back and follows my line of sight. “They’re light-years apart and I know from experience that even being right next to someone can be lonely. But I think for a star it’s a lot different.” He pauses and turns his head slowly until his eyes are on me again. “I think stars glow brighter than any light in the world, and just being able to see another star—to know it’s out there—is enough to soothe them. You beat loneliness by realizing there’s a whole world out there, not just you.”

I close my eyes and feel my lips tug into a smile. This man—he’s slowly entering my heart. “You’re a poet too.”

He runs his hand through his hair and grips the back of his neck. “That’s stretching it, Max.”

“No, it isn’t,” I disagree. “That was probably one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard.”

A slow, easy grin spreads across his lips, his eyes still lingering on me. My heart starts to pick up the slightest bit, sending shivers down my back. Knowing the rarity of those smiles, and that he’s already given me so many tonight, makes me feel a little drunk. It’s going to be my life’s mission to see him smile, no matter how much that scares me.

He frowns. “You’re cold?”

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