But Max would get him sorted out. In no time, Jeremy would be strutting confidently across campus, his virginity a distant memory. The kid clearly had no clue that he was sexy as hell. In other circumstances, Max would have been tempted to pop that cherry himself.
Cherry was a fitting nickname, he thought, remembering the postcard. He smiled around his electric toothbrush. Mmm, the ginger hair and adorable freckles. The way Jeremy bit his lower lip and blushed. That earnestness—like a puppy with zero chill. A sad puppy in need of a bone.
Laughing at his own dumb joke, he spit toothpaste into the sink. A white film of soap scum had built up, and it was probably his turn to clean the bathroom, but he’d deal with that later. He popped his toothbrush back on its charger, ignoring the gross ring on the bottom that also needed scrubbing.
His mind easily bounced away from any more thoughts of chores, and he went to pull on his workout clothes, thinking of Jeremy again with a smile. Jeremy needed a friend, which was why Max had left before he’d been tempted any further to see how deep he could make him blush.
He would fairy godfather the shit out of this. Build up Jeremy’s confidence and get him to relax and have fun. He’d be catnip to so many guys. Hell, they’d definitely be lining up to be Jeremy’s first.
Max frowned as he dug in his knapsack for his earbuds. There were plenty of creeps out there. He’d have to keep an eye on Jeremy and make sure his first time wasn’t with some asshole who would use him and throw him away.
In the kitchen, he grabbed a too-ripe banana, grimacing as he ate it. Bleary-eyed and groaning, Honey dragged ass past him to the coffee machine, fumbling a pod into it. He rubbed his hand over his tightly braided hair. His Raptors shirt was ripped at the collar, revealing a fresh hickey on his dark skin.
“Morning!” Max practically shouted because he was a dick.
Honey grunted.
“Good party?”
He grunted again. “You should have showed. The strippers were epic.” He whistled softly in appreciation. “There was one chick with the biggest tits I’ve ever seen. And you would have loved the Santa guy.” Honey flexed his muscular arms in demonstration. “Where’d you get to anyway? You hook up?”
“Nah. I hung out with that frosh. Jeremy. The weather was shit and I didn’t feel like going back out across campus.”
Honey jabbed the coffee machine as if that would make it dispense faster. “I forgot about that.” He frowned. “The kid’s okay, right?”
“Yeah. No thanks to you assholes.”
“Eh, who needs us when Saint Maxwell’s on the case?”
Max flipped him the finger before filling his water bottle from the ancient Brita in the fridge. “He needed a hand. Actually still does. I’m gonna help him pick out new glasses.”
“Huh. Okay.”
“And I’m taking him to the Village later, so count me out for poker.”
“Dude, it’s the last session before the holidays. Ty will be pissed if you don’t give him a chance to even the score before we pay out.”
“He’ll live. I told Jeremy we’d hang.”
After taking a noisy, grateful sip of his coffee, hands cupping the mug reverently, Honey said, “Can’t you take him to the Village tomorrow?”
“Maybe. I can ask.” Jeremy likely didn’t have any plans, so Max could leave it up to him.
“You gonna tap that?”
“What? No!” Despite his quick denial, a low pulse of desire at the idea tugged in Max’s belly. “I’m just helping. He’s nervous.”
“Baby bird got a broken wing?”
“Something like that. He just came out and his parents aren’t really talking to him.”
“Oh, shit.” Honey shook his head. “That sucks.”
“Yeah. He doesn’t have any friends. I feel bad for him.”
“You can always bring him tonight. If you’re not into him and he knows how to play, he’s cool.”
They’d had a strict no-dates policy since first year, when Tyler had brought a new girl every week and was more interested in her boobs than playing the game. “Okay. Maybe. You coming to the gym?”
“Do I look like I’m coming to the motherfucking gym?”
Max laughed and grabbed another banana on his way out, making sure to slam the door as noisily as possible.
A few hours later, his quads aching, Max spotted Jeremy pacing outside the optical store on Bloor West. As Max approached with a wave, Jeremy visibly unclenched.
“Hey!” Max called. “Sorry I’m late. Subway delay. You know, the usual with the TTC.”
Jeremy smiled but looked on edge. “Right. I thought maybe you changed your mind.”
“Nah, man. I wouldn’t leave you hanging. No service in the tunnel or I would’ve texted.”
“No problem.” He shook his head. “Sorry. I’m all…” He flapped his hands.
Jeremy seriously had some anxiety issues. Part of Max wanted to give him a hug and tell him everything would be okay, but that would probably be weird, so instead he said, “It’s cool. Come on.” He led the way into the store, a bell chiming overhead. The bright ceiling lights were augmented with garlands and white fairy lights across the top of the rows of frames and mirrors on three walls of the store. “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” played.
“Any brands you like in particular?” Max asked. The store was crowded, and the salespeople were all busy.
“Not really. Whatever looks okay.”
“You mean whatever looks spectacular.” He shot Jeremy a wink. “See what I did there?”
“Uh-huh!” Jeremy grinned, looking a little flustered, his cheeks going pink. “I wish I had contacts. It’s so hard to see myself in the new frames. Maybe I should just get them to replace the lenses in these ones.” He pushed the wire-rim glasses up his nose. “Had these for most of high school. I know they fit my face okay.”
“Yeah, but ‘okay’ is not what we’re going for. Let’s have a look.”
They perused the racks, and Jeremy found a few to try. Max figured Jeremy knew his style, although they all tended to be the thin metal frames. Jeremy carefully tucked his glasses in the pocket of his raincoat. The other pocket bulged.
Max asked, “You happy to see me, or what?”
Jeremy blinked up at him owlishly. “Sorry?”
He nudged Jeremy’s stuffed pocket. “Bad joke.”
“Oh! That’s your hat. You forgot it.” He pulled out the toque and handed it over.
“Shit, thanks. I didn’t bother with a hat today since it’s above freezing. But I’ll need this in Pinevale at Christmas for sure. Not that I don’t have other hats, but this one’s my fave.” He tossed it in his bag.
“No problem.” Standing very close to a mirror, Jeremy tried on the frames.
Max nixed one pair that were too narrow, but the other two were fine. He asked, “You ever try plastic frames? Something a little bolder?”
“No. My mom says darker frames overwhelm my face.”
“Ah. Assume you got the prescription from her?”
“Yeah.” Jeremy put his old glasses back on. “We texted. It was fine.” He grabbed one of the prospective frames. “I’ll just get these.”