LITMIR.BIZ

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were going. Angus still wasn’t home, so I just nodded a good-night to Max and headed to my huge, half-empty room. He surprised me by following, pausing in the doorway as if waiting for an invite.

      “You can come in,” I said.

      “I wasn’t sure. But I just wanted to tell you to be ready by seven.”

      “Oh, my God. It’s already midnight. Go to bed, Max.” After setting my alarm, I got ready, packed a backpack and followed my own advice.

      In the morning, Max tapped on my door as I was lacing up my boots. I’d packed a black dress and some flats, along with clean panties and a few spare T-shirts. The cargo pants would have to last until we got back. Fortunately, riding on the back of his bike wouldn’t even faze my hair, no need for curling iron or straightener. That made it easier to travel light.

      “Ready?” he asked as I stepped out.

      “Yeah. Let’s go.”

      “Thanks.”

      “You said that last night.”

      “I want to be sure it comes across. There’s no way I could go back by myself.”

      A small, curious part of me noticed that he didn’t say home but it seemed like the wrong time to dig into his motivations. Pausing in the kitchen, I rearranged the fridge magnets to read: Gone. Back Later. I’d text Angus at a more respectable hour and explain the situation, assuming this wasn’t top secret for reasons unknown to me.

      “We can’t do this in one day,” Max said as he stuffed our bags in the top box. “Or you’ll be too sore to move afterward.”

      “Promises, promises.” It was the sort of joke I always made, expecting him to goof back with me.

      Max paused, frowning. “I don’t think that’s hot. Or funny.”

      “Huh?”

      “Fucking a woman so hard it hurts her. The idea makes me sick, actually.” That was more sincerity than I generally got from Max in a week, but it was too early for me to parse.

      “There’s a difference between being pleasantly tender, the result of good, rough sex, and crawling away from the bedroom all bruised and bloody.”

      “I know, sorry. That’s just...one of my hot buttons.”

      Pausing, I wondered about that story, but it wasn’t the time to ask. “No problem. Shall we roll out?”

      The weather was perfect for taking to the open road, sunny sky in summer blue, not a cloud in sight. After two hours on the bike, I understood what he meant, though. It wasn’t like riding in a car; my arms were tired from holding on to him and my ass was numb, both from the pavement and the vibrations. Just past ten in the morning, he pulled off at a rest plaza in Ohio. The place was huge, almost like an auto-mall, plenty of parking, three fast food places, picnic tables, a strip of green for pets. I stumbled as I swung my leg over, and it hurt when I straightened my back; I had been leaning forward, pressed against Max for too long.

      “Sorry. I should’ve stopped sooner. You hungry?”

      “Yeah. I didn’t have anything before we took off.”

      “Me, either.”

      “I need the bathroom first, so I’ll meet you in the food court.”

      I used the facilities, washed my hands and stopped, drawn by my reflection. Mirrors were too honest, showing me a woman with a sharp nose and deep-set eyes. I used the purple hair to distract from my face, like a male bird strutting his colorful plumage. My body wasn’t bad, though I carried extra weight in trunk and saddlebag. I’d long since come to terms with the fact that I didn’t attract looks from across a crowded room. In fact, I was pretty used to being the grenade a wingman would fall on in order to give his buddy a shot at my hot friend.

      But on a global scale, problems like that were minuscule, and I was smiling when I found Max waiting with my favorite breakfast sandwich. Pretending to check it over, I sat down across the table from him. “Hmm. Bacon. Egg. Cheese. This passes inspection.”

      “Glad to hear it. I didn’t know if you wanted coffee or juice so I got both.”

      “Then I’ll drink both. How’re you holding up?”

      “You make me sound decrepit. We haven’t been riding that long.”

      Dropping my voice, I leaned forward, as if I was about to whisper a dirty secret. Max met me halfway. “I meant emotionally.”

      “Oh. Then I’m wrecked.” The flat tone belied the truth I glimpsed in his eyes. “I don’t even know if my brother will talk to me.”

      “What happened?”

      “You want my sad life story in a travel plaza?”

      Put that way, it sounded wrong, but I couldn’t deny my curiosity. So I ate my breakfast sandwich and followed him back outside, where I stretched for, like, five minutes. Max did the same, then we continued the trip. Though he was considerate and stopped every two hours so I could move around, by the time we hit the middle of Pennsylvania I was ready to call it quits. I’d have paid big money for a hot tub, but we stopped at an interstate motel, no Jacuzzis to be had, and I’d rather eat a bug than risk a yeast infection by soaking in a strange bathtub.

      Max offered to spring for my room, but it seemed stupid for him to pay double. “Just get one with two beds. It’s not a big deal.”

      “Thanks. I’m doing this on a shoestring budget.”

      I could’ve told him that I had plenty of money and a decent limit on my plastic, but I suspected he’d be offended. It was a point of pride for Max to pay my way since he’d asked me along for reasons I didn’t entirely understand. Arms crossed, I waited by the motorcycle while he went into the office, and when he came out, he had the room keys.

      “Come on, we’re around back.”

      Climbing on the bike made me wince, so I could only imagine how I’d feel tomorrow. Worth it for a friend, I told myself. Max parked and handed me the keycards.

      “Go on up, I’ll bring dinner. Are you in the mood for anything in particular?”

      I shook my head. “Get my backpack? I’ll shower while you’re gone.”

      “Good idea.”

      “Some women might find that offensive, Cooper.”

      “You know what I mean.”

      Grinning, I took my bag and jogged stiffly up the rusted external steps. This place was a step down from a Red Roof Inn, and the room was about as depressing as I expected: dated decor in overly bright hues with hutch, tiny dining set and grubby, striped arm chair. But at least there was a coffeepot and a relatively new TV. Usually the smell gave away the worst places, and this only gave off a musty scent, like a room that had been closed up too long. The windows didn’t open so I turned on the air conditioner, which banged to the point that I imagined tiny gnomes inside the radiator with wee hammers. The added ventilation helped, though, and I got my pajamas, then went into the bathroom.

      Water pressure was decent, and I took my time scrubbing off the road dust. By the time I came out, drying my hair on a scratchy towel, Max had pizza and beer waiting at the chipped table. He’d seen my pj’s countless times before, so he didn’t blink as I came over to get a slice of extra cheese, extra mushrooms and peppers.

      “No meat?” I asked.

      “Seems safer this way since we’re traveling tomorrow.”

      I grinned. “Your forethought is both impressive and disturbing.”

      The pizza wasn’t bad for a random dive, certainly not the worst, though it didn’t compare to the deep-dish Chicago-style I’d grown up on. After dinner, I propped up on my bed and checked my phone for the first time all day. I had a text from Angus and two from my mother. Angus

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