Chapter 23

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Finley

"You two are stupid adorable," Max says as soon as we're out of earshot of Harlyn and Elly.

"Max," I say through gritted teeth.

"What? You are!" He shrugs. "Don't worry I was the only one who noticed. Elly was too busy telling us about all the times she and Harlyn have been to those beaches to see you staring at each other the whole time."

"We were-were not," I protest, but I'm blushing. And Max is giving me the biggest "mmhm" look ever. He's known about us for a whole three days, and he's already using phrases like "a story for the grandchildren." "Ok. Maybe we were. It's hard not to, ok?"

"I'm not judging. Never." He puts his hands up as we cross under the city wall onto High Street. "But soon she is going to notice. Or one of you is going to slip up."

"I know. She starts exams next week, and she's been working on a big final group project that's due Friday. He's going to talk to her next Saturday." I pull the collar of my coat up a little farther. "So...soon."

"Has he talked about telling his parents?"

"Not to me," I say. "I know he's thought about it, of course. But I think he's kind of hyper focused on telling Elly first."

"Makes sense." He nudges my shoulder with his. "I know I've said this before, but I'm happy for you."

I smile. "You have said it. But thank you. Again."

We walk in silence to the tattoo shop. He still hasn't told me what he's getting. But he seems very excited. He grins every time I ask about it. The woman behind the counter greets us with a smile, her lip piercing stretching over her top row of teeth.

"'Ello loves," she says. "What can I do for you today?"

"Hi, I have an appointment. Under Max," Max says, practically vibrating.

"Of course," the woman says. "I'll grab Terry. She'll be helping you out today."

We only sit in the low leather chairs to the right of the door for two minutes before a short blonde woman appears. She pulls Max over to discuss what he wants, and he makes sure to tell them that I'm not allowed to see what it is until it's done. So, when he's led back to the table, I'm surprised that he beckons me to follow him.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to see," I whisper.

Max rolls his eyes. "Yes, but I brought you along to keep me company, not sit in the waiting room for two hours."

"Two hours?" I ask.

"It won't be two hours," Terry says, gesturing at an empty table and gathering all of her supplies. "Not for what you're getting."

"That's good," I say. "I mean, I love ya, Maxie, but two hours would've been stretching it after this morning."

He shoots me a dirty look at the use of Harlyn's nickname but doesn't disagree. "It was a lot of walking today," he says.

I take a plastic chair next to Max's table. "Yeah, it was." Max starts pulling off his shirt. "Whoa, I did not sign up for a stripper show. I don't have any cash on me."

"I'm not stripping," Max says, shirt still half on. It seems to be stuck on his glasses, so I hop up to help him. "I'm getting it on my back." The shirt finally comes free and he looks up at me through crooked frames.

"Ah, you're brave. That's painful, isn't it?" I sit back in the chair and get comfortable.

"Well, all over is painful," he reminds me. Terry comes up behind him with the stencil thing - is that what they're called? - and I lean a bit to try to catch a glimpse. Max fixes me with a glare. "Hey, stop. Stop peeking. You'll see it soon."

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