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“I told you not to call me that. And yes, I mean it. Don’t call me again.” I dropped my voice even lower, painfully aware of Arne’s eyes following me. “It’s over.”

Tobias inhaled sharply, and his energy shifted. Anger bubbled under his gooey surface the way it had always done. Ever since I’d been picked for the Klagenhofener Kojoten, and he had left for his working holiday in New Zealand. He would bug me and say, ‘You hang around all these hot guys all day. How am I supposed to feel about that?’

No matter how many times I said I was only interested in him and too busy with my sports to cheat, Tobias never believed me.

Now I know why.

He had been the one cheating on me. I knew about a guy in Klagenhofen, but there probably had been other guys in New Zealand, too.

“You’ll be crawling back to me, you pathetic loser. You know you will. There is nobody who will love you like I do, Maxi,” he tried to shift the tone one more time.

“And by ‘love’ you mean ‘cheating on me’, right?” I was done. He did this every few weeks. Every time I hoped that this timehe’d actually stay away like I told him to, he called, and I answered as if on autopilot.

“Fuck you, Max. I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you, and you know it. You’ll stay alone forever.”

“Shut up, Tobias!”

Arne got up suddenly from the couch. It snapped me out of my head. He came over to me and gripped my forearm. His blue eyes met mine, so much tenderness and care in them my voice hitched in my throat. Then I remembered what had happened right before I had accepted the call.

He almost kissed you.

I turned away, bracing myself.

“Don’t call me again,” I snarled and hung up.

Eleven

Arne

Watching all the colour drain from his face would have looked comical, but it was the least funny thing I had ever seen. My eyes tracked him closely as he paced my living room.

Being unable to help him sucked. I was used to assisting. It was my job as his captain, his friend, and the dumb guy whoknewthat it was the worst idea but who was still dying to shove his tongue down his throat again.

Max stood with his back to me for a long moment, his shoulders tense. Then he turned his phone off, flung it down on an armchair, and walked us back to the couch. He clasped my hand in his.

He lowered himself on the cushion next to me and, despite my better judgement and despite what I knew I was supposed to do, I rested my forehead against his sharp cheekbone.

He froze for a few seconds before turning his entire upper body around and wrapping me in a hug.

“What are we doing here?” Raven whispered into my brow.

“I don’t know,” I murmured, my lips moving against his skin with every word.

“Are we drunk?” His breath brushed the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

“Maybe tipsy, but I don’t think we’ve had enough to use that as an excuse.”

Max exhaled a shuddering breath, rested more of his weight on me, and kissed my temple. “I don’t want an excuse, Arne. I don't need one, either.”

Neither do I.

My arms slid around his waist, bringing me closer to his chest.

Our hearts hammered as we sank into the other’s embrace, finding the ways our bodies fit together. My brow found the perfect resting spot at the curve of his jaw. His upper body was longer than mine, so he could hug me comfortably around the neck. Max’s strong fingers spanned the entirety of my head, and mine slid into his soft curls.

“Please don’t turn into a bird now, okay?” I mumbled, holding him a little tighter.

Silent laughter shook his body.