It had been a few days since Chris had supper with Max. He was sure of it now, he'd over done it with his hand. What had he been thinking? Looking at that car and getting down and dirty with that engine?
His hand hurt but other things didn't. Not really. Not how it was with Max. Still he felt in a state of shock about it. It still worried him that he would only cause trouble for Max and nothing else. He'd decided it would be one of those things that would be slow and steady and completely under the radar. For all he knew this might be as good as it would get for a while. But he was OK with that.
It was time to get Dayton's stuff loaded up and back to him. He hated to face him, but thought it best to get it to Nancy's while everything was fresh, so to speak. And he packed everything with care, noticing there was not one snapshot that he owned of them together. He did find the picture of them that Dayton had kept, just some photo when they were drunk down at the river acting like idiots.
He took it and put it in his sock drawer. Chris was pretty sure Dayton had no use for it now. He'd soon be a faded memory. Wasn't it supposed to be like that? Perhaps this thing with Max was just about as secretive as it had been with Dayton, but he knew it wasn't like that at all. It was as if Dayton was trying to keep it a secret from himself, as well. He just couldn't admit anything was really happening between them. Chris knew he'd have to live with that. Perhaps he was taking the next step. Couldn't be in the back of the closet forever. Of course, he hadn't exactly stepped out of it, either.