Max dropped my hand. “I’m sorry. Shit.”
I shook my hand. “No, no. It’s okay. It’s--it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. Not if you get hurt. I hurt you.”
He ran his hands through my hair and turned his back to me.
“Max, look at me.”
He shook his head.
“Max, come on.”
He shook his head again.
“Don’t make me bust out the big guns, Buckaroo.”
He snickered. “Now I’m curious to know your big guns.”
I balled up my fist and punched him in the butt cheek. Before I could even think, my knuckles connected with his butt. And holy crap, it was rock solid. He whipped around with surprise in his face and I shook out my hand, murmuring ‘ouch’ underneath my breath. He took my hand back in his and massaged it softly, trying his hardest to swallow down his laughter.
“That uh… those the big guns?”
I snorted. “I hate you.”
He smiled. “I really don’t think you do.”
I sighed at the beauty of his smile before I stepped closer.
“Why don’t you smile often?”
It fell from his face. “Don’t have much to smile about, I guess.”
“What makes you smile?”
“You do.”
I blushed. “What really makes you smile?”
“You punching my ass does.”
I giggled. “You’re a jerk.”
“And you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
I felt my blush work down my neck. “After I was done swimming laps, he was there. Benji. I tried to get out, but he--”
“He won’t bother you again. You have my word.”
I paused. “Don’t you want to know what--”
“Not at the expense of hurting you, no. All I ask is that if he does mess with you ever again, you need to tell me. All right?”
I nodded. “All right.”
The wind kicked up and something cold on the edge of my eyelash made my eyes water again. Max’s hand came up to me, wiping away the tears still clinging to them. I sniffled again as his hand cupped my cheek. Another tear worked its way down. Then another. And another still. Only, they weren’t tears of sorrow.
Nevertheless, it didn’t stop Max from brushing them away, erasing their existence as his warmth kept me company.