Page 134 of Downforce

He curls his fingers around my pointer finger and bounces it up and down, grinning. My heart.

“You are the bravest little boy, aren’t you?”

He giggles when I tickle his belly.

“Are you sure? My uncle said when I was a baby I cried because of a clown. Do you think he’ll pick that up from me?” my sister-in-law asks, looking worriedly at the unbothered little boy in her arms.

Her Uncle Theo sidles up beside her, saying, “And I wish I’d never told you that story,” as he wraps an arm around her shoulders. “You were fine after a little while, and this one will be, too.”

“And if he isn’t, it’s just another story for him to tell at his kid’s first birthday party,” her other uncle says, coming up on her right side.

“Oh my god, what if he remembers this and never forgives me or Travis for scaring him at his first birthday?”

“Impossible since I’m pretty sure the part of his brain used for long-term memory hasn’t fully developed yet.”

Her Uncle Theo tips his half-filled glass of wine in my direction. The three of us laugh.

“He’ll be fine,” her uncle reassures her. “This kid is probably the most loved person on the planet right now. If anything, he may hardly notice the clown with how many other people want to get pictures and be around him. He’s today’s superstar.”

A noticeable murmur overcomes the people around us. The hairs on my arms stand on end as goosebumps rise on my skin. I turn in the direction that feels as if it’s pulling on me like a magnet.

My heart kicks against my ribs when I see Max dressed in a red linen button down and a crisp pair of white linen shorts. The top button of his shirt is undone, showing off the very tops of his sculpted pec muscles. The sleeves of his shirt grip his biceps the same way I recall holding onto those very arms just a few nights ago. They highlight the veins that line his arms, and oh my God, I think I might have just drooled a little.

Damn, I’m worse than Lucky.

But is it really my fault when he waltzes in looking like my summer dreams come to life?

“He really invited him?”

The whispered question causes me to turn in the direction of its owner. A woman who’s supposedly the girlfriend of one of the Amato engineers. But the way she’s looking at Max makes me unreasonably possessive. I actually visualize myself walking over and kissing him square on the mouth to stake my claim, publicly.

Instead, I take a large gulp of the Aperol spritz in my hand.

“I’m glad he came,” Alyssia says. “I had some doubt that he would even after I told Travis he better invite him or I’d make him sleep in the spare bedroom for a week.”

I almost choke on my drink.

“You did what?”

She watches as Max greets a few of the other guests and is led over to the food table.

“What? You think your stubborn ass brother relented out of the goodness of his heart? You know he likes to hold grudges.”

I nod. “I thought it was my very reasoned argument that finally made Travis see the light.”

“It was that, too. But the threat of seven nights without any was just enough of the push he needed to stop being such an ass.”

“Who’s an ass?”

We all look over to see Travis. He plucks Lucky out of Alyssia’s arms, kissing him before leaning in to kiss his wife.

“You,” she answers, but gazes up at him with stars in her eyes.

“Oh? What about now?”

Alyssia juts her head to the newly arrived guest. Travis’ smile drops.

“He’s late.”