As soon as he saw the state of his apartment, Max wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have suggested taking her to a hotel instead. He’d warned her, of course. He’d known that there were beer bottles on the coffee table from Thursday and his all night meeting with Brady and Jonathan about the marauders coming in from Tulsa. He’d remembered the boxes of weapons stacked in the corner he was storing for Central, some of them half-opened to show nasty implements of violence. He’d forgotten, however, about the laundry he probably should have picked up a week ago, and the pretzel crumbs he needed to vacuum out of the sofa cushions.
To her credit, though, Serena didn’t say a word. Her gaze just swept over the room, taking it all in.
“I don’t have much to eat or drink,” Max said, sidestepping the wor
