Twenty-Four
Max clamped his teeth together, fighting his jaw’s instinctive need to drop open. Meanwhile, Freya’s lips parted, as though she too hadn’t expected to say those words.
Her comment about him not having a mean bone in his body stood out as the most significant thing he’d heard about himself in as long as he could remember. The first compliment he sort of believed, one that acknowledged something inherent to his personality, transcending his money, reputation, and his current problems.
What she offered was a raft he could cling to. His first taste of purpose.
The only problem? He wasn’t all that used to people saying nice things about him. At least, not things that weren’t about his looks or his money, both of which he’d done nothing to earn.
He took in the details of Freya’s
