Chapter Text
"Sinclair," Max snidely greets as Lucas walks alongside her to lunch.
"Mayfield," Lucas replies with ease. "Hope you're ready to lose the debate in last period."
Max laughs. "You mean the debate class you've missed six times this semester for basketball practice?"
"Hey, I'm not getting a full ride to Syracuse for nothing, Red."
Max rolls her eyes as they turn into the cafeteria, looking for their usual table. "Still pulling a higher GPA."
"Fuck off," Lucas replies, the usual fire in the statement lesser than it was months and years ago.
“Believe me, I would love to, but I don’t feel like being bossed around by you.”
Lucas gapes behind her dramatically. “Oh, I’m being bossy? Have you seen you at debate practice?”
Their table grows nearer as Max replies. “If the dumb freshmen are going to be dumb freshmen, they’re asking to be yelled at, that’s all I’m saying.”
“You are aware that Erica is one of said ‘dumb freshmen,’ right?”
“I don’t see how that affects me,” Max shrugs, seating herself next to El.
Lucas, sliding in next to Dustin across from her, glares. “It affects me more. She makes fun of me every day for hanging out with a ‘cool person’ like you.”
“Aw, I’m cool?” Max asks, fake pursing her lips. “I don’t even hang out with you by choice, Sinclair. It’s because our stupid best friends decided to start dati-”
“Are you guys done yet?” Mike asks, snapping at them.
“No,” Lucas and Max reply in sync.
Dustin groans and drops his sandwich on the table dramatically. “Son of a bitch. You guys never stop fighting, do you?”
Max glares at Lucas. “He started it.”
“What do you mean, I started it?” Lucas asks, throwing his hands up. “You were the one who threw your shoe at me in seventh grade for getting a point higher than you in Clarke’s test!”
“You deserved it,” Max seethes, fueled by the rage from that event.
El stops Max from continuing with a small touch on her forearm. “Max, sweetie, can we please have just one lunch without you two chewing each other out? Please?”
Max stares at Lucas, who stares back for a solid second before they roll their eyes simultaneously. “Fine.”
“Fine,” Lucas echoes.
Lunch goes by slowly, with Mike and El discussing their upcoming date and Dustin chatting with Lucas and Will about a new D&D campaign. Because, well, they’re nerds.
Max takes this time to get an early start on her calculus homework, taking it out and beginning her work.
At some point, Lucas’s face grows closer and closer to her paper in front of her, and while it’s still far enough away to look like he’s simply stretching, Max can feel the looming. “What?” She snaps.
“I think you’re doing that wrong,” he replies simply, pointing at a certain equation.
Max looks away from her math problem and at Lucas. “Kiss my fucking ass, Sinclair.”
Her brain immediately goes to the worst possible of places when she watches Lucas’s pupils expand the slightest bit. Shit. “And what, catch what disease you’re possibly carrying?” Lucas shoots back, keeping his eyes trained on Max, and oh God .
Max instead slams her pen down on the table. “You know what-”
“Just fucking make out already,” Mike mutters under his breath as Will hides his smile.
El sighs. “Mike, be nice.” Her eyes dart to Max and Lucas. “You guys too.”
Ms. Nickels’ gavel slams on the sound block, once, then twice. “Okay! Max and Lucas, you guys are done for today. Maybe for the week. God, what a Thursday.” She sounds phenomenally exhausted, and Max cannot blame her. Today’s mock debate was intense (even more so considering the argument was about unequal pay), and Max spent a solid ten minutes refuting and countering Lucas’s evidence before the freshmen started to scoot their desks back.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Lucas says politely. Max gives him the finger where Nickels can’t see, and Lucas gives her the most subtle glare.
“Whatever. Class dismissed.” At barely forty-five, Nickels looks like she’s ready to retire because of the two seniors. Everyone stands up to leave, and Max is only stopped by their teacher’s voice. “Max, Lucas, stay back a few.”
Max meets Lucas’s eyes, also filled with curiosity, before heading over to Nickels’ desk. “Yeah?” she asks.
“Well, that’s awfully polite,” Lucas remarks.
Max swats at his arm.
“Kids,” Nickels speaks, sighing. “I wanted to talk to you guys about your final.”
“That’s not for another four months,” Max points out.
Nickels nods. “Yes, but you two are the only seniors in this class. And this is a final for seniors specifically. See, you two are the top two in the running for valedictorian. There has to be something important that you’ve put aside to focus on this, yes?”
Suddenly antsy, Max finds herself nodding hesitantly. Out of the corner of her eye, Lucas does too.
“Your final is simple. Well, technically it’s not an official final, but Principal Anderson requested me to assign you guys the task of writing your valedictorian speech. But I figured it’d be fun for you guys to write two instead. One for valedictorian, and one just for me. Your speech for this class is simple. I want you to answer this. ‘Is fighting this hard for valedictorian worth it?’” Nickels grins wickedly, as if she is unable to contain her excitement to read their papers. “Due on June 6th. Dismissed.”
Max blinks and slowly backs out of the classroom, with Lucas in tow. They walk towards their lockers in silence before she speaks. “So.”
“The final kind of seems-” Lucas starts. “A little too easy.”
Max nods. “Well, easy A then. That 4.0 isn’t gonna manifest itself.”
“In your dreams, Mayfield. We all know I’ll be valedictorian.”
Scoffing, Max makes a turn for her locker. “You’re the actual worst.”
“That’s not what you were saying last night,” Lucas says, his voice dropping low and smooth.
Max feels heat rise in her cheeks. “Shut up,” she hisses.
“Again, not what you were saying las-” Max elbows him in the side, and finds her locker.
“Shut. Up. No one can know. And both of us would like to keep it that way, so shut it.” She takes out her textbooks and puts them in her backpack, turning around and jabbing a finger into Lucas’s chest. “Got it?”
Lucas nods, serious even with the teasing glint in his eye. “Yeah. Yeah, obviously. Sorry, it’s fun riling you up.”
Max gives him the finger and slams her locker shut. “Bye.”
“Is Lucas coming over tonight?”
Max jolts from her slouched position at her desk. “He-huh?”
“I asked, is your boyfriend coming over tonight?” Steve asks from the doorway.
“He’s not my boyfriend, Steve,” Max mumbles, finishing up her math homework.
Steve laughs, walking in and sitting on the edge of her bed. “Don’t give me that bullshit, sis. You can’t lie to me.”
Max throws a pencil at him. “Shut up. We’re not dating.”
“Come on. You’re the only family I have left, and I intend on keeping everything out in the open.”
Steve’s parents decided to travel the world again, leaving him with the house. At 22 though, Steve has become a retail manager and is fully capable of both parenting her and making money. After Billy left for college and never came back, Neil also ditched them, and Max and her mother were left alone. They moved in with a newly lonely Steve, only for Susan to enroll in nursing school three months later and move to Chicago for it.
With Steve as Max’s legal guardian (well, not anymore now that she’s 18), it seems like the man has all his priorities circled around the redhead. And while she doesn’t complain, it does get a bit…mothery.
“We’re not dating, Steve,” Max says again.
“So what, you two are just sleeping together for the hell of it?”
Max’s head snaps up, and she whirls around in her chair to look at Steve’s smug face. “What.”
Steve gives her an oh, please look. “I’ve seen him sneak out of your room window twice this month. How long has this been going on?”
“Like…” Max fidgets with the pen in her hand. “Since June.”
“June?” Steve echoes. “This has been going on for eight months?”
Max rolls her eyes at her brother. “We’re using protection if you’re worried about that.”
Steve stands up and paces around her room. “I’m sorry, you’ve been having sex with the guy you absolutely hate for the past eight months?”
Hate is a strong word. Max finds that she doesn’t associate the word with Lucas Sinclair anymore, but if it’s to save face, especially in front of her brother, she will.
So she ignores it.
“No one can know. I’ll let you know everything you want, I’ll let you give me The Talk for all I care, Steve, just do not. Let Anyone. Know,” Max hisses.
Steve nods, still pacing. “Who else knows?”
Max pretends to think. “Oh, you know, just uh….you.”
“Robin’s gonna find out if I know,” Steve mentions, bracing himself for the paper clip Max immediately throws at him. “What? You know she won’t tell anyone.”
“She’s gonna tell everyone!” Max tries not to yell. “So do not. Tell. Her.”
Steve puts a hand on his hip. “Or what, Max? You’re gonna throw a shoe at me?”
“I can get away with murder.”
“Not this again. Max, just because you know how lividity works doesn’t mean you know how to-”
“I’ll frame you for the murder.”
Steve throws a hand up. “Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut. Is Lucas coming over though? Just so I can turn up the music in my room.”
Max throws a paper clip at him again. “We have thick walls, and your room is downstairs and across the house from mine.”
“Still. I don’t need to hear anything if it gets…loud.”
“You’re dismissed.”
Lucas doesn’t end up coming over that night, but the next one instead.
There’s never a set schedule per se, but Lucas sneaks over at least once a week. Normally once, but there’s the occasional extra visit. Just like when he sneaks in her window on this chilly-adjacent night, without any warning. Somehow Max already knows he’ll be over, and is settled on her bed with a book when he enters.
“Hey,” he says, from his spot by the window when he finally walks in, taking his shoes and socks off.
“What took you so long?” Max asks, immediately tossing her book aside and pulling him to her bed.
Lucas’s shirt is off first, then Max’s. His lips are on hers throughout, his tongue sweeping in her mouth in the way he knows she loves, and hell would freeze over before Max admitted this is her favorite part of her day.
But it is, and even as they lower themselves onto her bed, Max knows this isn’t going to be a thing. Even if everything Lucas does is driving her fucking insane with hormones, she’s not going to let it go much further than this.
She’s not going to complain as he spreads her out and worships her body, though. That is all him, and Max is just here for the ride.
Max wouldn’t necessarily call having sex with Lucas a part of her routine, but it’s been going on for months on end now, so…technically yes?
Sure, it’s mostly comprised of one of them (normally Lucas) sneaking into the other’s room at night, moans muffled into pillows, touches and words that just send Max into a euphoric kind of high, and of course the usual banter in between.
She stares at the far corner of her room as she idly draws patterns on Lucas’s chest. His hand is slowly moving up and down her back, and even though they’ve both been awake for a few hours now and the sun has long been shining through her window, neither of them make a move to get out of bed.
This happens a lot on the Saturday mornings when Lucas is over, considering Steve has work and both Max and Lucas rarely have plans on a Saturday morning.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Lucas mumbles, his voice reverberating through her. “Care to share, sweetheart?”
Max adjusts her position so a leg is thrown over Lucas’s hip. “Just thinking about how my debate final is going to shred yours,” she lies.
Lucas pokes at a sensitive spot at her back that he knows better than her at this point. She kicks him in the leg, and he pokes another spot in her side. “Ugh. We should probably get out of bed though. To, you know, make food. Drink water.”
As hard as it is to admit, Max really doesn’t want to leave her bed. It’s a warm morning, the sky is blue, all her homework is done, and she wants nothing more than to just stay in.
But obviously, she needs food. And lying in bed naked with the boy she hates(or not?) more than anything isn’t the greatest way to spend a weekend morning. So she leans her head up to plant a short peck on his lips before reaching down to the floor and pulling on her bra, underwear, and Lucas’s large Hawkins High sweatshirt.
Lucas doesn’t protest her wearing his shirt, since it’s a frequent occurrence. Instead, he simply pulls on his boxers and joggers before following her into the kitchen. Max just makes them some eggs and lets him wrap his arms around her stomach and kiss her neck. Because at this point, it’s pretty normal for them.
Max isn’t sure if this is a good or bad sign. But after they finish their breakfast and Lucas’s hands start wandering up her bare thighs, she lets him take her to her room and fuck her senseless.
Spring break is (thankfully) uneventful. Mike is out in California with Holly, visiting Nancy. El and Will, along with Joyce and Hopper, have gone to Jonathan’s studio opening in New York. Dustin is also in California with Mrs. Henderson as they tour CalTech.
Even fucking Erica is out for spring break, going with Lucas’s parents to Florida while he stays behind for basketball conditioning camp.
Obviously Max isn’t complaining. She would totally go visit Eddie and Chrissy in Chicago if she weren’t swamped with assignments and had to work. Besides, she’s housesitting while Steve is on a two-week long business trip to help some expansion in Michigan, and the empty house is all the more reason to have Lucas over.
So of course Max lets Lucas move in for the week.
Break ends up involving a lot of Max withholding herself from jumping Lucas’s bones while he returns from practice covered in sweat (and often shirtless).
It’s a sort of domestic and blissful week they create for themselves (which in turn kind of makes Max wonder if this is what a day-to-day life with Lucas would be like, until she snaps out of it and flicks his arm for no reason), with the two of them finishing up a few leftover assignments and actively avoiding their debate final.
Some sick, twisted part of her wants to consider Lucas her closest friend, with the exception of El. He knows her better than she knows herself, and Max absolutely hates how he knows everything about her, even things she hasn’t gotten to tell El yet.
“You sure you’re okay alone at home?” Steve is asking, concern and worry lacing his voice. “Sorry it’s been a while, but I’ll be back in four days, okay?”
Max laughs. “I’m fine, Steve. Still alive, haven’t burned down the kitchen yet, I promise.”
Steve sighs. “I know, but you’ve never been home alone this long before.”
“I’m fi-” The door to Max’s bathroom opens dramatically, and Lucas walks into her room in nothing but a towel around his waist and water droplets slowly cascading down his chest. “Jesus fuck.”
“Don’t cream your pants,” Lucas replies dryly, walking over to the latest load of laundry to retrieve some clothes. He gives her a wry smile before disappearing into her bathroom again to change, as if Max hasn’t seen it all before.
Max forgets she’s on the phone with Steve and is very ready to drop everything to barge into that bathroom and cast aside that damn towel when she hears an awkward cough.
“...You’re not home alone, are you?” Steve asks bluntly. He sounds somewhere between disappointed and exasperated, as if he can’t believe his sister is spending spring break with a guy.
To be fair, she wouldn’t have believed it a year ago either. “No,” Max confesses.
Steve is definitely running his hand through his hair as he speaks again. “Use protection.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Bye.” A click sounds as Steve hangs up, and Max puts the phone down while trying not to drown herself in the darkness her hand provides her eye when she covers her face.
“So-” Lucas enters her room, and Max glares.
“You have terrible timing.”
Lucas sighs dramatically. “Want me to make it up to you, babe?”
(There really isn’t much point in asking when her legs have been opened up since he walked in.)
Max knows she has zero right to be disappointed when he leaves to go back home the day his family comes back. She was the one who started this whole arrangement back in June, anyway.
But later as she sits in front of her still-empty paper for her debate final, the realization that this final is going to be fucking difficult finally sinks in.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Max mumbles, quickly jogging into the Byers-Hopper house and hoping she’s not tracking a puddle behind her. The Indiana rain, more intense than she anticipated, has left her hair wet and her clothes sticking to her skin. She quickly greets El’s dad and Will’s mom, who are leaving for a date, and heads into El’s room, only to find it empty.
“You are soaking,” a familiarly annoying voice speaks from behind her.
Max turns around, rolling her eyes at Lucas. “No shit, Sinclair. Where’s El? And everyone else?”
Lucas shrugs. “I think El and Mike are getting some snacks. Will told me to wait in here while he gets a book for me. Apparently Hopper is doing some renovations in the house and the rooms here minus El’s and Will’s and the parents’ are under some sort of beautification?”
“Where’s Dustin?” Max asks.
“Getting a movie. Probably the fucking Breakfast Club again.”
Immediately Max’s nose wrinkles. “Again? It's game night, not movie night.” She peeks into El’s room. “Ugh, I’m just gonna borrow a shirt or something.” Max grabs a sweater that El definitely hasn’t worn in a while, and a pair of sleep shorts. She looks over at Lucas. “Shit, I forgot El’s door doesn’t close all the way.” It’s clear Lucas really doesn’t have anywhere else to go, and neither does she, so Max sighs. “I’m just gonna change now. Turn around.”
“I’ve seen it all, babe,” Lucas replies cheekily.
“Shut up.” Max waits until he actually turns around before she peels off her jeans, pulling on the shorts and she swears Lucas is resisting the urge to look. To be fair, if he were undressing, she would too.
Oh God. Max shakes the thought out of her head and takes off her jacket and t-shirt. Her bra isn’t as wet as her shirt, so she leaves it on and tugs on El’s sweater.
“I’m decent,” Max calls, shoving her wet clothes in her backpack.
Lucas turns back around. “Thank God. I was about to make sure you were doing okay over there.”
“You are so fucking insufferable, Jesus Christ.”
“Hey guys!” Will greets as he opens the door. He's definitely gotten used to their arguing, and has become a pro at interjecting with nonchalance.
Max puts on a smile for the one boy in her begrudging friend group that she actually likes. "Hey. Sorry if I got the floors wet, I didn't know it would be this rainy."
"It's okay, Max." Will holds up a book. "Here's the one you wanted to borrow, Lucas." He hands the book over to Lucas, who takes it gratefully.
"Thanks, Will."
Will, who has finally gotten rid of his horrendous bowl cut, runs his hand through his hair. "No problem. Uh, you guys wanna set up for tonight? We're probably doing some trivia game again."
Max nods. "Sure," she says, following Will into his living room, where a few large bowls have been already laid out on the coffee table.
Lucas follows immediately behind her, and pokes the spot on her back again. Max turns to him. "You fucking-"
"Guys," Will lightly chastises.
"Sorry."
(As soon as his shirt is off later that night, Max makes good use of poking him back.)
Everyone’s staring at Max at lunch, and even though everyone’s been doing that all day, she finds this finally starting to get weird. “What?” She snaps at the table of curious looks.
“You had a wild night last night?” Mike comments. Max snaps her head towards him. No way he knows.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Max demands, hoping her voice isn’t shaking.
Mike nods over in her direction. “You got a little something there, Mayfield.” Max isn’t exactly sure where there is, but El saves her by handing her a compact mirror.
“You’ll see it when you see it,” El whispers.
Max snaps the mirror open, seeing nothing wrong with her face before her hand lowers and fuck.
A reddish-purple bruise has formed on the left side of her neck, and it most definitely looks like a love bite. “What the hell,” she says flatly, stepping on Lucas’s foot under the table to signal to him that it’s directed to him.
“You got a boyfriend?” Mike asks. El swats at his arm lightly.
“Shut up, Mike,” Max barks, wondering how many people saw the hickey already today.
“Nothing to be embarrassed of,” Dustin says, still very clearly shocked.
Max glares at him. “Drop it.”
Mike and Dustin hold their hands up in surrender, and Max feels a tap at her shoulder. El holds out a tube of concealer with a lopsided smile in hopes that it’ll help. “Use this?”
Max knows El’s concealer won’t be the right shade, so she shakes her head. “It’s fine, thanks. I’ll just see if I can find a bandage to cover it up or something, maybe.”
Lucas pipes up. “If you’re heading to the nurse’s office, can you stop by the library to pick up the books for debate? I’ll meet you there to check them out.”
There are no books for debate, Max knows. And she knows the exact hidden meaning of Lucas’s words. She’s about to refuse when she realizes she can use the quietness of the library to chew him out for leaving a visible hickey on her. “Fine. Meet you in ten.”
“Good girl,” Lucas replies smugly, and Max is endlessly grateful that she’s sitting down right now because her knees are completely and utterly weak.
She has to take her time packing up her bags to recover from that line, because oh lord is she turned on right now. These exact words he spoke to her for the first time three weeks ago, and it has proved to be a phenomenally strong weakness.
Max is leaning back already, ready for whatever Lucas brings on tonight when he leans close to her stomach, tapping her completely bare thighs. “Open up for me,” he says huskily, and she immediately complies. “Good girl.”
If Max weren’t already naked, she would’ve undressed for him right there and then. She lets out a whimper at those words, and Lucas grins wickedly up at her.
“And I have discovered yet another thing on my list to drive Max Mayfield crazy.”
He is not wrong, but Max refuses to acknowledge it, even if it is obvious he’s correct. Besides, whatever he’s doing to her right now is much more important.
God, the way he makes her come undone.
Max finds Lucas in the darkest and emptiest section of the library, one luckily empty. It’s been unofficially coined their spot, tucked away in the shadows between the Westerns and space operas.
“What?” he asks innocently when she settles into straddling him and ends up glaring a hole into his face.
“I told you, hickeys only where no one can see!” she hisses at him. “I have pale ass skin!”
Lucas only grins. “I know, babe .”
Max flicks his forehead. “Everyone can see if you leave marks, dumbass.”
“Fine, I’ll stop,” Lucas says, holding a hand up as if swearing an oath. “Besides, it was just this one time. What can I say? I got carried away last night. Please just don’t flick me again.”
A solid ten seconds go by with Max pretending to debate whether or not she will. “Fine.”
She knows what’s immediately coming next, but is not prepared either way. “Good girl,” Lucas whispers into her ear, and it’s all it takes for Max to press Lucas into the floor under them and force him silent with her mouth. Heat rushes up and down the apex of her thighs every time Lucas says the two words, and whenever she can do something about it, Max will.
So if their library makeout is a little hotter than usual, it’s all Lucas’s fault.
(But yeah, he makes sure to leave hickeys only where the two of them can see from there on out.)
“Well?” Nickels asks Max one afternoon after class. “Do you have an idea for the final yet?”
Max sighs. “Kind of.”
She’s not sure if valedictorian is worth anything anymore. Especially considering her simmering not-hatred of Lucas.
But she gives Ms. NIckels the answer she wants anyway. “I mean, I know what I’m going to write. I only kind of have an idea on how I’m gonna write it.”
Nickels smiles. “I look forward to reading your essay.”
Max feels sick to her stomach as she walks away. She’s not entirely sure why.
An obnoxiously cheery Lucas sidles up to Max on the way to lunch, as he normally does. Max is too tired to fend him off.
“What?” She asks, trying to get through the muddy pulsing in her head. “I’m not in the mood.” The immediate realization of the secondary implication makes her wince. Which makes her head pound. Which in turn makes her wince harder.
At that, Lucas stops in his tracks and steps in front of Max, a finger on the bottom of her chin forcing her to look at him. “You’re sick.”
Max shakes her head and curses herself for making the pulsing worse. “I’m not. I’m fine.”
Her eyelids feel burning hot as she blinks, and she can feel them dragging down.
“I swear,” she adds, as if it’ll help. “I can walk in a straight line?”
“That’s bullshit,” Lucas says. Max is thankful this particular hallway is empty, because she doesn’t want anyone to see them like this. “Your face is pale, your eyes are unfocused, and you are-” He puts his hand on Max’s forehead, and she almost moans at the relief of his cool hand. “Burning. You have a fever, don’t you?”
Max shakes her head, stubborn. “I’m not. I’m fine. I have a calc test after lunch, and I can’t miss it.”
She immediately knows Lucas will roll his eyes. (He does.) “Max.” Her eyes are definitely drooping, because he taps her cheek lightly. “Max. You can miss a calc test. You can retake it. I’ll make sure of it myself, okay?”
“Why would you do that for me?” Max asks, letting the words slip past her puddle of a brain. “You hate me.”
“Now that is also bullshit, Red.” Lucas crosses his arms, and Max’s eyes, despite being exhausted, immediately fall to his very visible biceps. “Go to the nurse. Call Steve. Go home. Sleep.”
Again, Max shakes her head. “Go away, let me-”
Her head somehow pulses again and when she blinks, she’s in an awkward position kneeling on the ground. Lucas is kneeling in front of her, giving her an I told you so look. “Well?”
“Fine…” Max says. “I’m not feeling that great.”
“Wanna tell me what you feel?” Lucas asks gently. Oh, how Max wishes she could hate him. But his eyes are soft and genuine, and she wishes she could melt in his arms.
A wave of nausea hits Max, and she lets it pause before she speaks. “Head hurts,” she gets out. “Nausea. Uh, heavy head. Kind of dizzy.”
Lucas’s eyes widen. “Y-You’re not pregnant, are you?”
Max’s head snaps up so fast she feels whiplash. Because that was a very real possibility that she genuinely had a breakdown over from the moment she woke up until about an hour ago.
What’s worse, her brain managed to conjure up some fantasy where Max ended up creating a family with none other than Lucas Sinclair. Somewhere sunnier, maybe California? A two-story house with a large front yard. Red hair and dark skin flashing as the daydream flew by fast enough for Max to realize that fuck, she wants that.
She obviously can’t say that to Lucas’s face, so she simply glares at him. “Is that the first thing you’re worried about?” She snarls.
“No! I just want to rule it out.” Lucas holds his hands up in defense, only to put one back on Max’s shoulder when she leans forward and almost topples over.
Max narrows her eyes as best she can, before sighing. "I took a test this morning. I'm not. Promise."
The boy in front of her nods. “You probably have a fever. I’m taking you to the nurse, and I don’t care if you’re walking or kicking the air while I carry you.”
“Fight me, Sinclair.”
Lucas chuckles. “I would, babe, but you’re not even strong enough to curl your hands into fists right now. Come on.”
Max rolls her eyes (God, that hurts too) and stands up, letting Lucas take her backpack onto his back. “I hate you.”
“I know.”