Page 34 of Sparks Fly
“Yeah, alright,” Miles said. “If you say he’s good then I trust you. But if he fucks this up, Max—”
“He won’t,” Max said. “Trust me.”
Miles stood and reached across the desk to dap up Max.
“I do,” Miles said when he pulled back. “I’ll catch you later. No more surprises, alright!”
“Promise,” Max said, and as Miles left his office, Max wondered why he said that when he knew it was a promise he couldn’t keep.
Seventeen
Skyler had gotten Max drunk.
He wasn’t supposed to be drunk. It was the middle of the week, and he was expected in the office tomorrow because he was the CEO and a good CEO was in the office to show his employees that he was a good CEO.
Why did he keep saying CEO?
Oh right, he was drunk.
It took Max approximately three times to get his key into the door and unlock it.
He then proceeded to stumble his way out of his shoes and coat, before promptly falling face first into his couch. This was why he didn’t drink. Or more accurately, why he didn’t drink with Skyler.
When it came to identity markers, Skyler tended to see themselves as a beer pong champion first and a nonbinary person second. Tonight, though, they’d insisted on doingshots because whenever they were together, Skyler seemed to think they were still in college and not in their thirties.
The first time Max had met Skyler, it was at a party during freshman orientation and they’d handed him a cup of jungle juice. At the time, Max didn’t know what jungle juice was. The few times he’d drank during high school it was always a beer; therefore, he was very unprepared and hardly remembered that night.
Still, he knew that Skyler got him back to his dorm, and the next day they reappeared with a bag containing Excedrin, Pedialyte, and a sandwich. They were pretty much attached at the hip after that. Many people assumed they were dating, because back then Skyler was more femme presenting than they were now, but Skyler had told Max early on they were a lesbian, which led Max to, for the first time, confess he was bi. That only bonded them even closer, and he was grateful when Skyler decided to move to New York rather than go back to their hometown of Tulsa, Oklahoma.
Now, though, Max was wondering why he’d wanted them around and swore he would never go out with Skyler again. It was a lie he’d said so many times it was almost comforting, like a familiar blanket.
In the pocket of his slacks, Max’s phone began to vibrate. He slipped it out and rested it on the arm of the couch, putting it on speaker so he didn’t have to hold the phone up to his ear.
“¡Hola!”
Her soft laugh came through first, and Max knew it was Stella.
“Hi,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“I’m slightly inebriated,” he said.
Alcohol always made him too honest.
“Ah,” Stella said. “That explains the texts.”
This made Max blink his eyes open.
“What texts?”
Stella laughed again. “Well, most of them were nonsense. A lot of keyboard smashes with a smidge of actual words in there. And then one that just says, ‘What flower do you smell like?’ It’s lavender, by the way.”
“Oh,” he said. “You may have to remind me tomorrow.”
“Will do,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “So, what were you doing tonight that got you so inebriated?”
Max was drunk, so he couldn’t be totally certain, but he was pretty sure he heard a twinge of jealousy in that question.
“I was with my friend Skyler,” he said. He turned over on his back and placed his phone on his chest, closing his eyes again. “I was supposed to see them last night but got caught up with work things so we rescheduled for tonight.”
