“Uh-huh. Okay!” Jeremy squeaked. “So, that’s exciting about going to law school,” he said, clearly eager to change the subject.
“I guess.” Now it was Max’s turn to be reticent.
Jeremy frowned. “You don’t sound too sure.”
Busted. He laughed it off. “Just stressed about the LSAT.”
Truth was, he hadn’t discussed his doubts with anyone, not even his sister or Honey. But Jeremy had told him all sorts of things. He’d trusted Max with his secrets even though they’d just met. Maybe Max could confide in him too.
It was kind of nice that Jeremy was new—that he didn’t know all about Max already and have preconceived notions. He wouldn’t judge him the way Max’s family and friends might. Not that they were judgy. Max was probably being totally unfair to them.
But he was supposed to be Jeremy’s fairy godfather—confident and in charge. Captain of the team. He wasn’t about to dump all his internal drama on the kid he was helping out.
Jeremy said, “I get not wanting to talk about it. There’s a lot I usually keep to myself. Until I basically have a nervous breakdown and unload all my crap on unsuspecting good Samaritans. You’re welcome.”
Max smiled. “Oh, you’ve done that before?”
“Actually, you were my first.”
The words were innocent, but they stirred a tug of lust that made Max’s balls tingle. He’d never had a virgin kink, but he had to admit there was something about Jeremy that drew him in. Maybe it was because Jeremy was physically smaller, and Max typically went for muscular guys more his own size. He wanted to take care of Jeremy in a way he wasn’t used to. Not paired with sex, at least.
He’d always been a mentor on the field and in the locker room, but that was about brotherhood and the team. He’d never let himself think of teammates as sexy. But it was different with Jeremy. The idea of being his first made his dick throb.
“Have you always wanted to be a lawyer?”
“Yeah. Probably a boring story.”
Jeremy shrugged. “We’re going to be here a while.”
Metal screeched as the streetcar slowed at Dundas. All the restaurants and shops had signs in Chinese and English, and people thronged the sidewalks at the heart of Chinatown on a Saturday afternoon. Some pushed their way off the streetcar as others squeezed on. A bulky purse smacked Max on the head, the woman apologizing profusely as he waved her off with a smile.
He realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d told someone about his mom. The guys knew she died when he was a kid, but it wasn’t like they’d sat down and had a deep and meaningful conversation about it. Not that there was any reason to have one now with Jeremy on the Spadina streetcar. Weird that he kind of wanted to?
“The thing with becoming a lawyer has a lot to do with my mom. She died in a car accident when I was nine. She was a lawyer with Legal Aid.”
“Oh. I’m really sorry.” Jeremy quickly added, “That she passed away—not that she was a lawyer.”
Max gave him a smile. “I knew what you meant.”
Jeremy grimaced. “Sometimes I say the wrong thing, or I just think I do, and I make everything worse by being super awkward. Like now.”
They were sitting closely—streetcars were built for unrealistically small people—and Max gave him a friendly nudge with his shoulder. “It’s cool. You don’t need to be so worried. We’re just talking.”
“Easy for you to say. But yeah, I’ll try. So, your mom was like a public defender?”
“Right. She worked her ass off to help people. My grandparents were originally from Goa in India, and they came to Canada before she was born. They gave everything to help my mom get to law school, and she worked so hard. She was top of her class, and there was pressure to become a Crown Attorney. But she was determined to represent people who really needed her help.”
“Even if they were guilty?”
“Yep. But the justice system is so fucked up. She really wanted to fix it, you know?” He breathed deeply, thinking of her passionate speeches about racial and gender inequality at the dinner table. “Easier said than done, but I wish she’d had the chance.” Before he could get stupidly emotional, he said, “Anyway, my dad was a part-time marketing manager, and he did the school runs and cooking. Now, he and my stepmother run a maple syrup farm.”
“Cool. Or should I say, sweet.” Jeremy wrinkled his nose. “That was bad.”
That was adorable. “I’ll allow it,” Max said in his best judge voice. “How about you? Your parents, I mean.” Shit, sensitive subject. He added, “Where’s your family from?”
“Originally Glasgow and Cork.”
“You’d never guess from looking at you,” Max teased.
Like he’d hoped, it made Jeremy laugh. “Shocking, I know.” He pushed up his sleeve and jacket to reveal the lower half of his pale, freckled forearm. “Part leprechaun for sure.”
Before Max knew what he was doing, he skimmed his fingertips over Jeremy’s skin. “So many freckles.”
“Um, yeah.” Adam’s apple bobbing, Jeremy tugged down his jacket.
Max made himself look anywhere else and jumped to his feet. “Shit! This is us.” He announced, “Excuse me!” and squeezed a path for them to the middle doors. They escaped into the fresh air and headed down Queen Street. Max checked the address on his phone. “You know, we probably should have taken Bathurst down. Sorry.”
“S’okay. You can tell me more about being a lawyer. And I’m really curious about how a maple syrup farm works.”
“Didn’t you take a class trip as a kid?”
“Nope. Not really a BC thing, I guess? They probably make maple syrup somewhere in BC, but I’m not sure.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. There’s a lot of production in Ontario, but Quebec is the epicenter. Maple syrup is very intense there. The business, I mean. The syrups vary.”
Jeremy stepped into the doorway of a fabric store to make room for two mega strollers coming toward them. “Do you know how to make it?”
“Yep. My stepmother’s the boss, but Meg and I helped out when we were in high school. Meg’s my sister. Technically my stepsister—Valerie’s daughter from her first marriage. Valerie’s my stepmom. She’s cool. She and my dad got married when I was twelve and Meg was ten. Dad and I moved from Scarborough to the farm near Pinevale.”
“Sounds nice.”
“I didn’t think so in grade seven, but I came around.”
“You and Meg get along?”
“Yeah, I lucked out there.” He smiled, wondering what Meg would think of Jeremy. He decided she’d really like him. “She’s the best. Your little bro sounds cool too.”
“He is.” Jeremy’s smile was tense. “And that’s really cool your mom inspired you to be a lawyer.”
From one sore spot to another. Not that becoming a lawyer should be a sensitive topic the way Jeremy’s brother was. Max should be excited about it! He shouldn’t low key feel like puking. As they reached a corner, a streetcar rattled by. A taxi horn blared and a guy in front of the Tim Hortons yelled about cows eating grass.