Of course, she did. Mrs. Devereaux refers to herself as an adventurous woman, which I suppose is a fair way of summing up her life. She’s lived in nineteen different countries and been married four times.
Despite myself, I ask, “So why didn’t it work out?”
“Sex complicates friendships. You might tell yourself in the beginning—no strings attached, but then one day you find yourself jealous when you see him with another woman. You can’t go back to just being friends after having done the nasty with each other either. But then again, being friends with an attractive man is a difficult thing too. Someone who looks like him is bound to stir up your hormones.”
You have no idea.
“Just know what you want from him, sweetheart. And stick to one thing. Friendship or romance.”
“Friends. Romance can fall apart—it always does for me anyway, but friendships are for the long term.”
She nods thoughtfully. “That’s a very smart thing to know. I was quite a few years older when I reached that conclusion.”
Mrs. Devereaux reminds me of my grandmother, even though they have nothing in common in terms of their upbringing or past. But they are both strong, opinionated women who don’t take shit from anyone.
***
I pace around the gym after Mrs. Deveraux leaves, her words still ringing in my ears as I wait for Max, who arrives fifteen minutes after the scheduled start of our session. He walks in holding his hands up as if he knows I’m preparing myself to scold him.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says. “I was in a meeting that went on for too long.” He undoes his tie as he speaks, clearly happy to get rid of it.
“No need to strip in front of me, Bennett. You know where the changing room is.”
He winks at me before striding to the other end of the room. Five minutes later, he returns, wearing the same workout clothes as last time.
“So what kind of exercises are we going to do today?” he inquires as he paces the training room, eyeing the various machines. I can’t help notice the way his lean muscles flex when he moves. Belatedly I realize Max is watching me too. Drawing in a sharp breath, I look away. Biting the inside of my cheek, I point to one of the treatment tables.
“Lie there.?
??
He grimaces. “What are you going to do to me?”
“Max Bennett, are you afraid?” I ask while leading him to the treatment table. He walks a few steps behind me, yet knowing he is so near messes with my senses. Thank heavens there are four other people in the training room, though they are at a considerable distance from us.
He shrugs as he stands in front of the table. “I’ve seen videos of exercises done on these tables. They look like torture.”
“You are afraid,” I exclaim. “Well, well. I wouldn’t have expected that from the boy who convinced me to jump with him in the pond from the top of the cliff.”
Max grins at me, and I’m instantly reminded of that particular day.
It was a warm Saturday morning, and Max showed up at my house like a boy with a plan. I was sitting on the porch, reading a book. He convinced me to go swimming with him at the pond we regularly went to. But when we arrived at the pond, it became clear he had more in mind than just swimming.
“Let’s go jump off the cliff,” he said.
“But that’s dangerous,” I countered immediately. The pond was surrounded by high cliffs—one of them particularly high and pointy.
“Nah, it’s pretty high, but I’ve seen some tenth graders do it.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous.” I folded my arms over my chest, shaking my head.
“Why are you so afraid, Jonesie?”
I shrugged. “I’ve never been brave.”
“I think you are, but you just don’t know it.”
“But what if something happens to us?”