Max groaned as the alarm blared, breaking the quiet of the morning. He rolled over, carefully maneuvering his injured leg to avoid jostling it too much. Today was the day he'd finally get a walking cast—something that meant progress, even if it also meant dealing with more doctors and a lot of effort.
He pushed himself up and sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. No coffee, he reminded himself. His doctor had warned him to cut back, and while he wasn't thrilled about it, he'd been trying to listen. With a deep breath, he reached for the crutches leaning against the nightstand and pulled himself upright.
In the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face, hoping it would wake him up. A glance in the mirror showed his hair sticking up in at least three different directions. He sighed, running a hand through it before grabbing a comb to make himself look somewhat presentable.
When he reached the kitchen, Mia was already waiting, keys in hand. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Took you long enough. You ready?"
"Just about," Max muttered, grabbing an apple from the counter. He wasn't hungry, but he knew better than to go to an appointment on an empty stomach.
Mia led the way to the car, helping him in before sliding into the driver's seat. The ride to the clinic was quiet, aside from the occasional tap of Mia's fingers on the steering wheel. She didn't push the conversation, which Max appreciated. He wasn't exactly in a chatty mood.
When they arrived, Mia helped him inside, and they checked in at the front desk. The waiting room was the same as he remembered—neutral walls, old magazines, and that distinct, sterile smell that all medical offices seemed to have.
When Dr. Sara Mason finally called him back, she greeted him with a warm smile. "Max, it's good to see you. Are you ready for your upgrade?"
"More than ready," he replied, easing himself onto the exam table.
She examined his leg, nodding in approval. "The healing looks good. We'll get you into a walking cast today, but you'll still need to take it slow. No running marathons just yet."
"Not a problem," Max said. He was looking forward to ditching the crutches, even if only partially.
Once the new cast was in place, Dr. Mason reviewed his physical therapy plan. Twice a week for the next month, with at-home exercises in between. He'd have to work on rebuilding his strength, but at least this meant he was moving forward.
Mia smirked as she helped him out of the clinic. "Guess this means you're stuck with me driving you around a little longer."
Max chuckled, adjusting to the feel of the new cast. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't start charging me for gas."
"Too late," she teased, unlocking the car.
Max took a slow breath as they pulled out of the parking lot. It wouldn't be easy, but at least he was one step closer to returning to normal.
As soon as Mia pulled out of Dr. Mason's office parking lot, Max stretched his leg out carefully, adjusting to the feel of his new walking cast. It was an improvement—still awkward, but better than crutches.
"So, what now?" Mia asked, glancing at him.
Max smirked. "Unless you plan on keeping me on a strict diet of apples and whatever is left in the fridge, we should probably hit the grocery store."
Mia sighed dramatically. "Fine, but if you complain while we're shopping, I'm leaving you in the frozen food aisle."
"Noted," Max said, grinning.
Before heading to the store, Mia pulled into a car wash. "Might as well get this done since someone keeps tracking dirt into my SUV," she said, giving him a pointed look.
Max raised his hands in mock innocence. "Hey, I'm injured. That should buy me at least a little sympathy."
"Mm-hmm." Mia rolled her eyes, paying attention to the kiosk before entering the tunnel.
The rhythmic whoosh of water jets surrounded them as the vehicle crept forward. Soap-suds cascaded down the windows in thick, swirling patterns, and the steady hum of the brushes filled the space. Max leaned back, watching the colors of the foam dance across the glass before shifting his gaze to Mia.
"You know," he said, his voice teasing, "this might be the most romantic place you've ever taken me."
Mia snorted. "Nothing says romance like high-powered water and overpriced wax treatments."
Max turned in his seat, resting his arm on the center console. "I don't know... it's private, just you and me, trapped in here."
She gave him a suspicious look, but the faintest hint of a smile played on her lips. "Trapped, huh?"
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Mm-hmm. No distractions, no interruptions. Just us."
Before she could respond, he closed the space between them, brushing his lips against hers. At first, she stiffened, but then she melted into him, the warmth of the kiss contrasting with the cool mist swirling outside. The thud of the rotating brushes against the car provided a steady rhythm, almost like background music.
Max deepened the kiss, his fingers grazing her jaw as the water cascaded down the windshield, enclosing them in their little world. When the final rinse cycle began, he pulled away slightly, his forehead resting against hers.
"You just made out with me in a car wash," Mia murmured, amusement lacing her tone.
"Had to cross it off my bucket list," Max teased, his grin widening.
She shook her head, but there was no hiding the blush on her cheeks as she put the car into drive and pulled forward. "Come on, loverboy. We still need groceries."
"Right, right. Priorities." He smirked, settling back in his seat. "But I'm gonna be distracting you in the produce aisle."
Mia groaned. "I regret everything."
They spent the next hour weaving through the grocery store's aisles. Mia took the job seriously, inspecting labels and comparing prices, while Max reluctantly tossed things into the cart.
"You realize you grabbed five different kinds of chips, right?" Mia asked, eyeing the cart.
"Yeah, I like variety," Max said, unbothered.
She huffed. "And exactly zero vegetables."
"That's where you come in." He shot her a wink. "I believe in teamwork."
Mia muttered something under her breath but didn't fight him on it. When they loaded the groceries into the back of the freshly washed SUV, she turned to him with an exasperated expression.
"You are exhausting."
"And yet, you keep me around." He grinned.
"Yeah, yeah," she said, shaking her head as she started the car.
As they drove home, Max couldn't help but think that despite the chaos, today had been a good day. And maybe things between them were shifting into more than playful teasing.
By the time Mia and Max pulled into the driveway, the SUV was packed with bags of groceries, and Max was feeling the weight of the day settling into his bones. His leg ached—not enough to complain, but enough to make him grateful that he didn't have to hobble around on crutches.
Mia parked and let out a sigh. "Alright, let's do this. And by let's, I mean you sit your butt down while I unload."
Max scoffed. "Hey, I can carry a few things."
Mia shot him a look as she climbed out. "Right. You carrying things means I'll be carrying you when you inevitably push too hard."
He rolled his eyes but didn't argue. Instead, he grabbed some lighter bags and entered while Mia hauled the heavier ones. He set the bags on the counter, watching Mia work her way back and forth, unloading everything like a woman on a mission.
"You're disturbingly efficient at this," he noted as she stacked a box of pasta in the pantry.
She shot him a smirk. "Someone has to be, considering you'd probably just shove everything into the fridge and call it a day."
"That's... fair." He leaned against the counter, pulling a loaf of bread from one of the bags. "Speaking of food, I vote we make something quick before we pass out."
Mia raised an eyebrow. "We?"
"Yes, we," Max said, grabbing a cutting board. "I'm injured, not useless."
Mia sighed but didn't fight him. Together, they settled on something simple—turkey and cheese sandwiches with sliced fruit. Max did the more manageable tasks, cutting strawberries, while Mia handled the rest.
Once everything was ready, they sat at the small dining table, and the fridge hummed, the only sound for a moment, as they ate.
"This might be the best sandwich I've ever had," Max said dramatically after his first bite.
Mia rolled her eyes. "You just kissed me in a car wash, and this is what impresses you?"
"Hey, don't underestimate a good sandwich."
She laughed, shaking her head as they finished their food. When the last crumbs were wiped away, Mia stretched and sighed, satisfied.
"Nap," she asked.
Max didn't even hesitate. "Absolutely."
They made their way to the couch, but the second Mia sat down, Max grabbed her hand and tugged her toward their room instead.
"The couch is fine," she protested, but he was already climbing into bed and scooting over to make room.
"It's a nap," he said, patting the spot beside him. "Might as well be comfortable."
Mia hesitated for half a second before slipping under the covers beside him. She settled on her side, facing him, her body warm against his. Max exhaled, feeling a deep contentment as he relaxed into the mattress.
"Don't get any ideas," Mia murmured, her voice already laced with sleep.
Max smirked, draping an arm lazily around her waist. "Too late."
She huffed but didn't pull away. Within minutes, the steady rhythm of her breathing evened out, and Max let his eyes close, sleep pulling him under with her.
And for the first time in a long time, everything felt exactly right.
Mia stirred, blinking against the soft afternoon light filtering through the bedroom window. For a moment, she was disoriented, the warmth of the blankets and the steady rhythm of Max's breathing pulling her back toward sleep. But then her phone buzzed on the nightstand, vibrating insistently against the wood.
With a quiet sigh, she reached for it, careful not to disturb Max, who was still cold beside her. The screen lit up with a missed call notification—and a voicemail from Heather. Curious, she pressed play and held the phone to her ear.
"Hey, Mia! It's Heather. Jessie and I were talking, and we thought it'd be nice if you and Max came over tonight. The kids have been asking about their future Uncle Max, and we figured it's been a while since we all had dinner together. Nothing fancy, just a little family time. Let me know if you guys are up for it!"
Mia smiled as the message ended. It had been a while since she'd had dinner with Heather, Jessie, and the kids, and she knew Max would love spending time with her nieces and nephew.
She turned her head to find Max still fast asleep, his face relaxed in a way she rarely saw when he was awake. He always carried himself with a bit of mischief, always ready with a sarcastic remark, but like this—peaceful, breathing steady and slow—he looked different. Softer.
Mia hesitated, then gently brushed a hand over his arm. "Max," she murmured.
He grunted but didn't wake.
"Max," she tried again, this time nudging his shoulder.
He groaned, shifting slightly before cracking one eye open. "Why are you waking me? I was having a great dream where I could run again."
Mia smirked. "Well, dream time's over. Heather called. She and Jessie invited us over for dinner tonight. The kids want to see their future favorite uncle."
Max stretched, yawning. "Favorite, huh? As if there's any competition."
"Pretty sure it's by default because you are more fun than my brother Mark," Mia teased.
"Hey, I'll take the win." He rubbed a hand over his face before looking at her. "You wanna go?"
She nodded. "Yeah. I think it'd be nice."
Max grinned. "Then let's do it. But only if Jessie doesn't let me wash my dishes afterward."
Mia chuckled. "No promises."
She quickly texted Heather, confirming that they'd be there, then set her phone down and stretched.
"Guess we should get up and get ready," she said.
Max groaned dramatically. "Or we could stay here forever."
Mia rolled her eyes, shoving the blanket off. "Come on, loverboy. Family awaits."
With another exaggerated sigh, Max sat up, ruffling his hair. "Fine, but I'm driving the 4x4 this time."
Mia raised an eyebrow. "It's been killing you to have me chauffeur around all the time."
"What can I say? I like being in control of everything," Max shot back, smirking as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
Mia shook her head, regretting agreeing to him driving the 4x4, but deep down, she couldn't deny she was looking forward to the night ahead.
Max flexed his fingers against the steering wheel, a slow grin spreading across his face as he settled into the driver's seat of the 4x4. The familiar hum of the engine beneath him sent a thrill through his system—something he hadn't felt in far too long. Ever since the accident, he'd been stuck in the passenger seat, relying on Mia or someone else to cart him around like an invalid. But not tonight.
Tonight, he was driving.
Mia stood outside the truck, arms crossed, giving him a skeptical look. "You sure about this?"
Max scoffed. "It's just next door, Mia. It's not like I'm taking it off a jump."
She sighed but climbed into the passenger seat anyway, shaking her head. "I swear if you mess up your leg even worse—"
"Relax," Max interrupted, adjusting the mirrors out of habit. "I got this."
He eased the truck into gear and pulled out of the driveway, his hands steady on the wheel. The motion felt foreign and instinctual, like muscle memory waking up after being dormant for too long. As soon as they reached the main road that led to Jessie's house, Max hesitated, then smirked.
"What are you doing?" Mia asked warily.
"Taking a little detour."
"Max."
"Come on," he said, flashing her his best charming grin. "First time back behind the wheel—I gotta stretch its legs a little."
Mia huffed but didn't argue as Max veered off the main road onto the dirt trail that ran through part of the family's ranch. The tires kicked up dust as they rolled past the open fields, the fading sun casting long shadows across the land. The scent of warm earth and fresh hay drifted through the open windows, and Max felt free for the first time in weeks.
He kept the speed slow, testing how the truck responded and ensuring his leg could handle the pressure of braking and accelerating. It wasn't perfect—he felt the occasional twinge—but it was his again.
Mia must have noticed the shift in his mood because she finally relaxed, resting her elbow against the door. "Feels good, doesn't it?"
Max let out a content sigh. "Better than I can explain."
They passed the old barn, where Jessie's horses were grazing in the nearby pasture, and followed the fence line until the house came into view in the distance.
"Alright," Mia said. "You had your fun. Let's get to dinner before Heather sends out a search party."
Max chuckled, finally turning back toward the driveway leading to Jessie's house. "Fine, fine. But admit it—you missed me driving."
Mia gave him a sideways glance, smirking. "I'll admit it's nice not being your chauffeur for once."
He pulled into Jessie's driveway and shut off the engine, taking a moment to savor the fact that he'd finally done it—one more step toward returning to normal.
He stretched as they climbed out of the truck, rolling his shoulders. "Alright, let's go before the kids tackle me the second we walk in."
Mia laughed. "You mean before they make you play basketball on one leg?"
Max groaned. "I swear if Jessie lets them—"
Mia was already halfway to the door, throwing him a mischievous grin over her shoulder. "Better keep up, loverboy."
Shaking his head, Max followed, but there was no denying it—tonight already felt like a win.