He wasn’t supposed to be back in DC until Sunday night, but he changed his ticket to go back on Saturday instead. He couldn’t take one more night in that house, in that city, with Olivia right there and not there with him, especially after that text she’d sent him. He’d thought the cakes would be a sweet callback to how she’d first agreed to go out with him, and would make her realize all the good times they shared, and that she couldn’t throw it all away. Apparently not.

He let himself into the DC apartment and sighed in relief. He was so happy to be in this generic, boring apartment, a place Olivia had never been.

He dropped his suitcase on the floor of his bedroom and went back out into the kitchen to see if either he or Wes had left beer in the fridge before they left for recess. At least luck was with him today—there was an entire six-pack. It was alone in the fridge with a bottle of sparkling water, a jar of pickles, and three different kinds of mustard.

Just as he opened the bottle, the apartment door opened and Wes walked in.

“Max! What are you doing here?”

Shit. He’d been really looking forward to this night alone, before he had to pull himself together and talk to people in this damn city again.

“I could ask you the same question,” Max said. “I assumed you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night.”

Wes shook his head and came into the kitchen.

“Give me one of those, will you?” Max pulled the cap off a second beer bottle and handed it to his friend. “No, I got back late last night—they booked me on one of the Sunday morning shows, so I came back early to prep. And so I wouldn’t be so fucking exhausted first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Congratulations,” Max said. Getting booked on a Sunday morning news show was a big coup, especially for a freshman House member. But God, did he wish he had the apartment to himself tonight.

“What are you doing back so early? I thought you’d spend every moment you could in California with your girl. Or did she come back with you?” Wes looked in the direction of Max’s bedroom with a smirk on his face. Max probably would have thought that was funny before.

“She broke up with me.”

God, did it suck to say it out loud.

“What?” Wes dropped his beer on the counter, and it tipped on its side and spilled everywhere. “Shit, wait.” He grabbed a dish towel out of the drawer and mopped up the mess as he stared up at Max. “Are you serious? Are you okay?” Wes looked at Max and answered his own question. “No, you’re definitely not okay.”

Max took a swig of his beer and sat down on the couch.