The Summer Proposal by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

While that all sounded great, I knew the other shoe was about to drop.

Max swallowed and looked down. “But this was supposed to be just the summer.”

“And I was supposed to be getting married in the spring. Things happen. Things change. What might’ve been the right answer a few months ago might not be right today. I’m just realizing how important it is to not lock yourself into a decision forever.”

“I’m sorry if I led you to believe this was more than it was.”

I shook my head. “I don’t understand, Max. Why can’t it be? If everything you just said is really true, if you have as strong of feelings as you say you do, then why can’t it be more than we planned?”

Again, he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I just can’t, Georgia.”

“Can you look at me, please?”

Max raised his head and met my gaze. I wasn’t sure what I’d wanted to find in his eyes, maybe something I’d missed—that he didn’t have feelings for me like I did him. But what I saw was just the opposite. His eyes were filled with love, but also sadness, pain, and anger.

Which only confused me more.

“Are you upset with me because I asked you to leave the night Gabriel showed up?”

“No.”

“Because nothing happened between us. We had lunch the next day at a restaurant and talked. That’s all.”

“I’m not upset. I know nothing happened.”

“How? How did you know nothing happened?”

He looked into my eyes. “Because how could it?”

That seemed like a non-answer, but it was also exactly the truth. How could something happen between either one of us and someone else when we had what we had? It seemed like a physical impossibility.

“Do you have feelings for me?” I whispered.

“Of course I do.”

“So why, Max? I need a reason. I feel like I’m missing a piece of a puzzle, and you know how I am. I’ll spend forever trying to figure it out.”

Max was quiet a long time. Eventually he took a deep breath and shook his head, looking down. “I don’t want more than what we have.”

“Look at me, Max. Say that again.” I reached out and touched his face, making his eyes meet mine.

He held my gaze before finally speaking. “I don’t want more, Georgia. I’m sorry.”

It felt like I’d been smacked across the face. I jumped out of the chair and stumbled back from the momentum. Max reached out, like he wanted to steady me.

I put my hands up. “Don’t.”

“Georgia…”

I felt tears brewing like a storm about to hit. But I refused to allow them. Instead, I swallowed and straightened my spine. “It’s fine. Just…just go sit down. Let me have a minute, and I’ll finish making us dinner.”

“Would you rather I go?” Max asked softly.

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. I just need a little space right now.”



• • •



Dinner was awkward, to say the least. I responded when Max spoke, but I didn’t have the energy to carry on any real conversation. After, we cleaned up in more silence. I stood at the kitchen counter and refilled my glass, while Max declined more wine.

“Thank you for making dinner.”

“You’re welcome.” I stared down into my wine. “Do you still want to see each other until you leave in a few weeks?”

Max frowned. “The selfish asshole in me wants to say yes, but I don’t want to make it harder for you. I’ll do whatever you want.”

I wasn’t sure it made a difference if we said goodbye today or in a month. The damage was done. I’d fallen for him. “I think I’d like to enjoy the time we have left.”

Max let out a big breath. He looked physically relieved. “Can I hold you?”

I nodded.

He walked over hesitantly, almost as if he was waiting for me to change my mind, and then looked into my eyes, asking silent permission before wrapping me in his arms. My head pressed against his chest, right over his heart. As crazy as it was, being in his arms made everything feel like it would be okay, even when he’d caused the hurt in the first place. For now, I could let him make me feel better, putting off the day that nothing could help because he was no longer here.

Later that evening might’ve been the first time we climbed into bed like normal people. Typically, we’d fall in, stumbling to rip off each other’s clothes as we went. But tonight, Max took off his own clothes, and I changed in the bathroom like I’d do if I were alone. Slipping into bed without that passion actually reminded me a lot of my years with Gabriel.

I turned to my side, giving Max my back, and he curled up behind me. Even though my mind just wanted to drift off to sleep, having Max’s hard chest pressed so close made my body betray me. My skin prickled, and my nipples hardened as his warm breath tickled my neck. I stayed still with my eyes shut, trying to ignore the urge to turn and dig my nails into his back. But when I felt Max harden against my ass, it became all but impossible. I took a deep breath in and let out a frustrated rush of air.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I’m not trying anything, I swear. I thought I could control it, but apparently I have as much restraint as a twelve-year-old boy.”