I sensed Maxwell’s mountain of questions and confusion when I suspect he put the pieces together about Liam and me. He led me to the floor, turning me to face and snaking a confident arm around my waist with his other holding my hand.
“Are we going to talk about what that was or is that sacred ground?” Maxwell asked, leading me across the floor with smooth, skilful dance moves. I didn’t have to worry about him stepping on my feet but I had to learn to keep up.
I pulled up my shoulders not bothered sharing it with him. I haven’t talked or thought of Liam in ten years. When he left me, I joined the Marines and never looked back. I only heard over the years that the Bengals of Ohio drafted him as their quarterback and that he was Maxwell’s nemesis.
“We dated in high school,” I shared wi
