Page 105 of Scandalous Lover

My mouth falls open. “How do you know any of that?”

Max just sips his drink, calm smile still plastered on his face. “It’s written right across your face.”

I rub my hand over my face absentmindedly, as if I could feel my darkest secrets written there in braille.

Max’s smile widens. “This is a wound from your childhood that you need to heal in order to move on. If you want to move on, that is. You don’t have to.”

“What do you mean I don’t have to?”

He looks at me pointedly. “You don’t have to do anything. That’s the beauty, and the curse I suppose, of free will. You have made a nice place for yourself here in this life. You have the resort, and you have your friends. You have comfort and financial security. Many people would be very happy to live out the rest of this lifetime in your position, not rocking the boat.”

I can feel the but coming. I don’t even bother to ask for it.

“But if you’re not content with what you have, then boat rocking is your only option.”

The truth of his words strike through me with actual, physical pain. I feel myself grimace as I look down at the straw between my fingers.

I already knew this.

I already took inventory of my life. Found it overflowing with opportunity and happiness and blessings.

And found itlacking.

“But…” I start, not having any idea what question to ask to get the answer I need.

“But what if you get wet?” Max offers.

I nod.

He shrugs. “A special design feature of human beings.” He taps the skin on his arm with two fingers. “We’re waterproof. And we dry quickly.”

“Hi,” Naomi says, climbing back onto the bench beside me.

“Hello, my dear,” Max coos at her, rising a bit to extend both hands across the table toward her.

Naomi’s face cracks into a smile as she takes them both and lets him hold them.

“It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

I grin at the look on Naomi’s face. It’s not uncommon for people to fall so quickly under Max’s spell. She’s smiling at him wide eyed, still holding both of his hands.

When he releases her and stands, she turns her head up, forehead creasing. “Do you want to join us?” she asks.

Max shakes his head. “Alas, my own boat is waiting.”

We watch him walk away in silence.

After a long moment, Naomi turns to me. “Who was that guy?”

I smile up at the bartender as he sets two plates of blueberry pancakes, scrambled eggs, and crispy bacon in front of us. “Max. He and his wife live on Merit Island where the guys have another house. He’s a bit of a local counselor.”

“Ooh,” Naomi says, mostly to her steaming plate. “Did he offer you any advice?”

I shove my loaded fork into my mouth to buy myself some time. I’m not sure how much of what Max said is worth sharing or how much I’m brave enough to share.

What would it mean to admit all this to her? All myfeelings and fears? How deep I am in the pit of worry about what’s going to happen between us?

And what will happen to me if I end up making the wrong choice?

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