Page 32 of Always, in December

Chapter Eleven

‘This. Is fucking amazing.’ Max’s voice was slightly muffled over the mouthful of hot dog he was chewing.

Next to him on the bench that they’d managed to commandeer in Tribeca Park, Liam rolled his dark brown eyes and snorted. ‘Calm down, it’s not that good.’ Though he tried to dial it down, Liam’s accent was typical New York, a testament to the fact that he’d lived here his whole life. He was dressed in what Max had come to think of as a New Yorker style too, a tailored, striped navy suit but with a deep red shirt underneath – bold and expressive, like the city itself, and offset by his deeply tanned skin. To top it all off, he was wearing a pair of stylish black trainers – or sneakers, as Liam called them – rather than the typical business shoes Max himself was wearing. The weather was distinctly warmer than it had been in recent weeks, like the city had finally decided spring was here, and while that was no guarantee that another cold front wouldn’t blast in at any moment, for today both of their coats – his old faithful that he thought was suitable for every occasion, and Liam’s long beige coat, one of many different coats he owned – were slung over the back of the bench in celebration.

Max swallowed, his throat slightly protesting against the particularly big bite he’d taken. ‘It is,’ he insisted. ‘I’m sure it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact I haven’t eaten since yesterday lunch that it tastes this good.’ He and Liam had pulled a late one at the office where Max was currently working last night, preparing for today’s meeting with a high-profile – translation, complete dickhead – client.

‘Mommy didn’t leave dinner out for you last night then?’ Liam said, chuckling to himself as he spoke, showing a flash of his extraordinarily white teeth.

‘She did, actually,’ Max said, grinning in a deliberately smug way – the grin he could wind up almost anyone except Liam with. Angel that she was, his mother had taken to cooking for him every night, even when he wasn’t sure if he’d be in, and literally never complained about it if the food went uneaten – which is what had happened last night, given he’d been too knackered to do more than change and fall into bed.

Liam rolled his eyes theatrically, but Max ignored him. He knew all too well that Liam bloody loved his mother, and the feeling was mutual being as how, on a very loose ‘family friendship’, revolving around his mother and Liam’s father having gone to school together when they were about eight or something like that, Liam had put in a word at the architecture firm where he worked last year, despite the fact Liam had never even met Max until that point. This was before Max had got the – somewhat short-lived – job at ALA and he’d done a bit of freelance for Liam’s firm last spring, luckily getting on with Liam immediately. When Max’s mother had told anyone who would listen that Max would be in New York a little longer than expected after Christmas, Liam had casually mentioned it to one of the senior partners, who had immediately given Max a six-week contract to assist on a particularly difficult project. Besides, despite the mutual and apparently instantaneous love between Liam and his mother, Max had resolutely decided there was absolutely nothing wrong with a thirty-two-year-old man camping out at his parents’ for two months, given they’d practically begged him to do just that and the alternative would be some sort of dump with a nightmare commute.

Max finished his hot dog, brushing a few crumbs off his black jumper – he tended towards the ‘casual’ of the smart-casual dress code in the office – and sighed. There was literally nothing better than eating when you were hungry. He shifted a little against a cool wind that whipped past them. With a glance up to the sky, he scowled. So much for the weather getting nicer – it was greying overhead, the clouds threatening to steal away the sun’s warmth. ‘I swear it rains here more than in England,’ he grumbled.

‘That’s definitely not true,’ Liam said, his eyes on a runner, tightly clad in Lycra. There were always bloody joggers around here – it was enough to make you feel guilty for just sitting. This particular one was a tall, slim woman this time, and Max’s lips twitched. Liam had a weakness for tall, willowy women.

‘Feels like it, given the last few weeks. Anyway, how would you know? You’ve never even been to England.’

‘I don’t have to have been there to read a weather report.’

‘Read them regularly, do you? Weekly check-up on the weather in London?’

‘It’s a hobby of mine.’

‘Is it on your profile on those multiple dating apps you have? Because that’s probably why you’re striking out there, mate.’ Liam only grinned at him. Impossible to rile, was Liam.

Max’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he slipped it out. There were a few messages and two missed calls from his mum, but the most recent message was from Erin, telling him she was just boarding the plane and couldn’t wait to see him. He stared at it for a moment, then, unable to think of anything better, typed back Safe flight xx

After deciding it was safer just to ignore his mum for now, then go in strong with apology and flattery when he got home, he lowered his phone. It lit up immediately again and he looked at it automatically. As did Liam – a reflex, Max supposed. Because it was face up, they both saw the WhatsApp pop up at the top of the screen. Just a line of x’s.

‘Erin’s getting on the plane,’ Max said by way of explanation. Though Liam wasn’t one to invade his personal life – one of the many great things about him – this subject had come up a few times, just by virtue of working so closely together every day.

Liam nodded slowly. He had a good scalp, Liam. Something that was a bit odd to notice, but it was sort of impossible not to notice, given he’d shaved his dark hair neatly around his head – a style which matched his carefully shaven jaw – a bit of stubble allowed around just his jawline and top lip. It looked like far too much effort, in Max’s opinion. ‘Ah yes,’ he said, ‘the Edinburgh ex. Worried things will be awkward, after she dumped your ass last time around?’

Max tapped his fingers against his phone. ‘I like to think of it more as a mutual decision. And we’re both past that – we’re just friends now, I’ve told you that.’

‘Suuuure.’ The way Liam dragged out the word made him sound even more American, and Max snorted. ‘So what, she’s flying all the way out here to visit, right before you go back to the UK, I might add, because you’re such good friends?’

‘You know, you’re trying to make that sound suspicious, but it’s really not. Just because you don’t have any friends who would travel a few hours to spend time with you in an objectively cool city, doesn’t mean the rest of us live like that.’

‘Nah, I’m just more picky than the average guy about their friends – try to avoid any hangers-on, you know.’

‘Sure, you keep telling yourself that.’ Even though, from what Max had seen, Liam made friends left, right and centre. Probably because he was so easy-going, Max thought. He didn’t pry, and it seemed to make people want to be around him. It was that very quality, Max was sure, that had stopped Liam asking him what he was doing back here for another prolonged period of time, having been off to his fancy new London job last time they spoke.

Max slipped his phone back in his pocket and frowned to himself. The thing was, in reality, what Liam said held some truth. Yes, he and Erin were friends. They’d been friends at Edinburgh together way before anything had happened, only actually hooking up in their final year. Thus ensued a classic on-again-off-again relationship that would have made Ross and Rachel proud, spanning about five years until last spring, when she’d called it off again. And now, he was pretty sure she wanted to reverse that decision, given some of the messages he’d been getting. The problem was, it was a different face that flashed into his mind now, one that had been the cause of a fair number of pleasant dreams and not so pleasant awakenings over the last few months.

Max glanced at his watch – some kind of up-and-coming new brand that Liam had told him about – and, without saying anything, they both got to their feet. Hour-long lunchbreaks were frowned upon at their office. Not that Max was complaining. He wanted to be busy, to get stuck into the work he loved again. He’d spent too much time over the last few months either obsessing over the past or worrying about his future, all because of that one fucking day last year – the day that had quite literally made his world tilt on its axis.

No. He closed his eyes very briefly. He wasn’t thinking about it. That was the new rule. That was the only way he was going to get through these months – just pretend that it hadn’t happened. Distraction – that was the way forward.

They walked back towards the office on West Broadway, dodging a near-endless stream of people, with the grey sky looming ominously above them. Next to him, Liam lumbered along in that way of his that always made Max want to smile – for someone who played as many sports as Liam did, his gait was almost laughably ungraceful, like he was somehow both trying to show off and hide his somewhat built six-foot-three figure, and had compromised with something that did neither. Without so much as a glance at each other, they swung into the Starbucks on the last corner before their office. It was a given that they’d need caffeine to get through the post-lunch meeting, given the way these clients drawled on, and the coffee at their office, despite the fancy building, was truly shite.

They joined the perpetual queue of people, and both smiled at the rosy-cheeked redhead behind the counter, who looked like she belonged in some kind of Irish novel, as opposed to serving coffee to suits in Manhattan. She nodded when Liam ordered his cappuccino with an extra shot of coffee and some sort of fancy syrup or other, then turned her smile on Max. ‘Black Americano, please.’ He smiled and her dimples winked out.

‘You’re from England?’ she asked as she rung up the order and took payment from Max. Again he nodded, and she beamed, her green eyes creasing. ‘That’s so cool. I’ve always wanted to go there. I’ve been saving up for ages to go. Is London amazing? I’ll bet it’s just amazing.’

‘It’s amazing,’ Max said, and when Liam snorted quietly beside him, presumed that his voice didn’t quite match his words. Seriously though, the number of people who just assumed ‘England’ meant ‘London’. And yeah, ok, he had lived in London at one point, but that was really beside the point. Still, he worked up a smile for the cute barista. ‘Well, I hope you get to go one day.’