That was how this band—this family worked. They had your back, no matter what, even if it was hard. Even if it was impossible.
“My knee is shot,” Max added with a wry, lopsided smile.
“Oh my god,” Leo exclaimed and then collapsed on the couch between Max and Diego. “Oh my god, are you going to be okay?”
Felix rolled his eyes. His brother could be so fucking dramatic.
Of course, it wasn’t like he wasn’t freaking out too. He was.
Then Leo’s gaze pinned him.
“You knew about this, didn’t you?” Leo demanded.
Felix had to shrug, trying for casual, and probably not pulling it off. “Why would I know about Max’s surgery?”
“I don’t know, you’ve always stuck to each other like glue,” Leo retorted.
Not recently, and you know it, Felix thought rebelliously at his older brother.
“I didn’t know,” Felix said. And hated himself a little, because he should have known. If he hadn’t stopped returning Max’s texts and spending every available minute with him, he’d have known. Undoubtedly. “But he’s going to be fine, I know it.”
Diego lifted a questioning eyebrow. “How do you know that?”
“He knows because he’s not stupid,” Max said. “There are risks, of course, there are always risks. But this is a good team. They do this all the time. It’s honestly a routine procedure.”
“Good,” Benji said, jaw jutting out. “Because that’s all I’m gonna accept. Unlike some melodramatic, overreacting assholes.”
Felix was often astounded at how even though he and Leo were the most stubborn people on the planet, somehow the rest of the band gave them a run for their money.
“I’m not an asshole!” Leo yelped.
It was impossible to hold back his eye roll. “You are the king of assholes,” Felix muttered.
It was amazing, and also a little jealousy-inducing, how charmed Caleb looked by this accusation. “You kinda are, babe,” he said softly, nudging Leo’s leg. “It’s so cute.”
“It’s not cute, it’s vomit-inducing,” Felix said.
What he really wanted to say was their over-the-top cheesiness made him want to vomit, but he was trying to be nicer. Nicer and more supportive. Less pathetically envious of what they’d found and what he hadn’t.
“Who’s staying with you?” Diego asked, because he was the guy who was always trying to get the conversation back on track. He never failed.
“What do you mean?” Max asked.
Diego shot him a look. “You’re having someone stay with you when you’re in recovery, right? Who is it? Felix? No—it can’t be. You’re going to Fiji with Leo and Caleb.”
He was. He’d agreed to go not because he really wanted to, even though, duh, Fiji, but because it had seemed better than sulking at home at what a disappointment his life had become.
“I think the more important question is, why didn’t you ask one of us?” Leo said, actually sounding a little hurt.
“You guys all have such big plans,” Max said awkwardly. “Break plans, you know? Besides, I’ll be fine. The house is one level, and I’ve got plenty of binge-watching planned. I’ll be fine by myself. It’s not a big deal.”
Felix wasn’t even the tiniest bit surprised. He’d known, even before Max’s expression had grown sheepish, that he was going to try to muscle through this on his own.
Guilt swamped him, but he stayed silent because of all the people in the room, he was the most likely candidate to help Max out, and also at the very same time, the least. Because he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t spend all that time with Max and not fall even more deeply in love with him. It was impossible. It would accomplish the literal exact opposite of what he was trying to accomplish—which was to move on.
“What!” Benji exclaimed.
“You can’t do that,” Diego said gravely.
“It’s a terrible idea,” Caleb pointed out.
Max threw up his arms. “I’m being smart about it, I swear. It’s really fine. I even cleared it with the surgeon.”
Except Felix knew that look that Max was currently wearing and it totally meant, I thought about clearing it with the surgeon, but I was afraid he’d say it was a bad idea too, so I never brought it up. But it’ll really be fine, it will.
There were many times Felix wished he didn’t know Max as well as he did, but this might be number one on the list.
“And who’s taking you to and from the hospital?” Leo demanded archly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“An Uber? A car service? I’m not sure. I’ll find someone though.”
Felix rolled his eyes. Like Max would even trust an Uber not to sell him out for an easy paycheck. He returned to the couch on the other side of the room. It was safer over there, and it would prevent him from actually giving in to his desire to throttle either his brother or Max. He wasn’t sure who was pissing him off more tonight.
Benji’s gaze narrowed and it was obvious he wanted to argue, but Max cut him off before he could get going. “Let’s just drop it, okay? I’ll figure it out. I don’t want to ruin this night with an argument. We’re supposed to be celebrating.”
“Right,” Leo said. “Celebrating losing, or . . .something like that.” Felix watched as he met his boyfriend’s eyes and they had one of those wordless conversations. Felix might have been annoyed (or maybe even jealous) at their apparent ability to communicate without a single syllable spoken aloud, but he was too used to it to let it bother him anymore.
What he did know was that neither of them were going to let Max go through anything alone—and Benji and Diego probably agreed.
Felix already knew what was going to happen, and also that he wasn’t going to be able to say no, even though he knew he should.
“I’m going to grab another sparkling water,” Caleb said. “Does anybody else need anything?”
“I’ll help you,” Diego said, jumping to his feet. “I need another ginger ale.”
“Yeah, because Caleb can’t carry two glasses on his own,” Felix said with an emphatic eye roll. He already knew what was going to go down in the kitchen and it had nothing whatsoever to do with beverage refills. Diego was going to ask if Caleb had everything under control with Max’s situation, and Caleb was going to say yes, because he knew that Felix could be coerced into helping.
Felix would resent Caleb’s certainty more, but it seemed that everyone except Max knew just how he felt.
“Why are you even having surgery?” Leo asked, putting an arm around Max.
“Because apparently doing all those crazy dance moves off the drum set for so many years was bad for my joints,” Max retorted dryly. “Who knew?”
“You should’ve told us you were in pain,” Leo said seriously, reaching out to gingerly touch Max’s knee. “We would’ve wanted to know.”
“It was honestly not that big of a deal. A little ice some nights. It wasn’t like I was dying.”
Felix thought that was more or less pretty accurate. He’d seen Max in pain before. Had been one of the few people he’d ice his knee in front of. He’d known this day was coming; of course he had. He just hadn’t expected it to come now, not when he and Max had this big awkward cloud brewing between them.