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In case it wasn't obvious, the Lahey genes in Max come out on two occasions. He's either drunk, or aroused. Lol.


"Fuck, it's cold here," Lucas wrapped his coat tighter around himself as we stepped out of the Uber in front of a restaurant that we frequent when he visits.

We walked through the door that sat between two enormous glass panels. One way windows that were tinted. I appreciated that. It meant we could sit beside the window and eat without people on the street watching.

The lighting was dim, polished wood floors and an open kitchen in the middle of the room.

It smelled like sizzling meat and herbs. But there was a subtle scent of beer and spirits in the air too.

The maître D recognised us and led us straight through to our table. Lucas did most of the talking and I caught her looking at our arms for a clue as to which name she should use when she thanked us for her tip.

In short sleeves, there was no mistaking who was who anymore. Both of Lucas's arms were sleeved with ink.

But tonight we had long sleeves on, even under our coats. I wore torn jeans with a fitted crew neck sweater and beanie. While Lucas had product in his hair, a hoodie and jeans on.

We sat across from each other and started out with a garlic bread and a soda while we waited.

Abby wasn't here. So there would be no illegal drinking in a dinge bar because she knew how to sweet talk herself into whatever she wanted.

"How's the season going so far?" I asked, leaning my forearms on the table.

"Not bad. There's this dumb fuck on our team. Total asshole. Swear he thinks he's the fucking god tier of football," Lucas ran a hand through his hair. "He's not the captain so I wish he'd shut his fucking mouth."

I raised a brow. "Sounds positive."

"Yeah, well, apart from that, it's going good. Just keeping up with studies and all of that. Milly's a great help. Ya know, especially when it comes to tension."

I picked up the menu and browsed it. "That's great, Luc."

"I really fucking love her, man."

I looked up at my brother who was staring off, zoned out with a dopey grin on his face.

Honestly, I'd been concerned for a long time that he wouldn't sort himself out. But he'd come a long way.

He was still himself. Rough around the edges. But he had a good heart and no one could accuse him of lacking passion.

"I'm happy for you, Luc."

He sighed with content and nodded. "She let me put it in her back door last weekend."

The table's on either side of us clattered. Dropped forks or a knife. One woman sounded as if she was attempting not to choke on her Pinot.

"Gees, Luc," I pinched the bridge of my nose and felt sorry for not only the diners but myself as well. "Does the entire restaurant need to know that?"

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