Brad's text appears on the screen.

We're not in middle school.

Well, good point, but still.

Of course, Brad doesn't know who my ex is, or perhaps he wouldn't be so cavalier about it. Most people's exes couldn't make the new boyfriend disappear without a trace just by giving an order. Not that Max would ever . . .

Bubbles again.

If you think it's awkward, then don't. But it's not a problem for me.

OK, I text back. I'll think about it.

Brad texts back: Looking forward to seeing you, either way.

I sigh, and set my phone down on the table. Gaze out over the beautiful flower garden my grandmother has tended since before I was born.

He's such a nice guy. On paper, he checks off all my boxes. I just wish I got that rush of excitement I always feel when I'm with Max. That I felt from the first time I met him.

I remind myself that instant sexual chemistry isn't everything. And I am attracted to Brad. That kiss at the end of our first date stirred a few tingles and made me curious about more.

Yesterday we ended up stretching the day into dinner, stopping at another seafood restaurant Brad knows where he could pull up and dock the boat and we could sit outside at a table under an umbrella to shade us from the sun, and look out at the water. At least it wasn't the same place I went to with Max, although the vibe was similar.

Afterward, when he dropped me back at my grandparents, he leaned over in the Jeep and kissed me. Again, it was . . . nice. Some tingles and a hint of passions that were beneath the surface but, for now, carefully controlled. A friendly kiss with just a little bit of an edge to it.

At least now that I know he also went through a recent break-up, I don't feel so bad about insisting that we take things slow. I won't worry so much about possibly using him as my rebound guy when he's just as likely to do the same thing with me. Maybe all we will ever be is two people who helped each other get over a past relationship and move on.

Maybe we'll be something more.

My grandparents have not reappeared, so I text Martina to see if she's free, and up for a visit to the gym.

She replies instantly and says yes, and agrees to meet there in about 30 minutes, giving me just enough time to change into some workout clothes.

The door to my grandparents' bedroom is shut, and as I walk past I can hear faintly the sounds of two people snoring. Good. My grandmother usually falls asleep after one of her emotional upsets, and heaven knows my grandfather can use the extra rest. Even with me living here, his care of my grandmother still takes so much physical and emotional energy. I wish there was a way to make things easier for him, but he insists that he is fine and that having me here has really changed things for the better.

I get dressed and head for the gym, to find Martina already waiting for me. She's talking to a guy in a red t-shirt and at first I think it's Brad - similar build, same light brown hair - but when I get closer I see it's not. It's that CPA she pointed out the first time we were at the gym who she went out with a couple times. Brad was the other guy in a red t-shirt that day, and a quick scan around the gym tells me he's not here today.

Martina leaves the CPA and comes over to greet me. Moments later we're on our regular bikes, pedaling steadily to the same workout program.

"So how's it going with Brad?" she asks me.

"It's good. But I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"He's not Max."

"Well, duh."

"It's like - you know that guy you were just talking to, the CPA? Remember how you told me there just wasn't any spark for you. It was just too boring."

She looks over at me. "So that's how it is with you and Brad?"

"Not that exactly. He's an interesting guy with an interesting job, and he has some great stories. There's a spark. Maybe. But Max is like an inferno."

"Yeah, I get you. After being with Gabe, there's no way I could go back to the CPA and find him even remotely interesting."

"But the truth is, I can't be with Max. So I have to keep an open mind about being with someone else. Someone who isn't as exciting." I give her a sidelong glance. "And you never did find the CPA remotely interesting, so it's not the same thing."

"True."

Our legs pick up speed as the cadence changes. The program we chose is a bike tour through the wine regions of Italy. I'm sweating and losing my desire to ever do a bike tour through the wine regions of Italy in real life.

"The thing is," I tell Martina, "Brad invited me to go boating again the weekend after next. He said if I bought you, he could teach us wakeboarding.

"Girl," Martina says, "what makes you think I don't know how to wakeboard, growing up here in Miami."

"Even better," I say.

"So what's the problem? I can tell by your tone there's a problem."

"He said you're welcome to bring a date."

There's a pause.

"Oh. Hmmm. Interesting."

"I don't know how I feel about double-dating with you and Gabe. It feels weird. Like he'll be going back and reporting everything to Max."

"I'm sure he will, but it's not like you're going to make out right in front of us."

"It just feels weird for Gabe to see me with another guy. And if he does tell Max, which I agree he will, then am I just hurting Max? I don't want it to seem like I invited Gabe along as a double-date to, you know, rub Max's face in it."

Martina considers as our pace on the bikes slows down slightly and I have a chance to catch my breath.

"We haven't known each other very long," she finally says, "but I really feel like we are best friends."

There's a sudden lump in my throat.

"I feel the same way too."

"I'm also really serious about Gabe. I mean, I think he might be the one."

I look over at her. "Seriously?"

She nods, just as the program speeds up again. I feel the muscles in my calves burning.

"I think," I say between breaths, "this is a conversation . . . .for the juice bar."

Twenty minutes later we have our smoothies and we've grabbed one of the small tables off to the side, instead of our usual spots at the counter. Sometimes people in this gym are a little too friendly and I really don't want anyone sitting next to us right now and striking up a conversation. Hopefully at our little table in the corner that only has two chairs, that won't be a problem.

"So," I say to Martina, "spill. I thought you and Gabe were just having fun. When did it get serious?"

"We made the decision about a week ago to be exclusive." Her eyes get all dreamy. "Neither of us actually saw anyone else since the first night we had sex, but now it's official."

"You had this conversation with Gabe a week ago, and you're only now telling me?"

She looks down. "I know, I know. But you've been so torn up over the breakup with Max, I didn't want to start going on and on about how happy I am with Gabe."

"Yeah. I get that. But Martina, are you sure this is the life you want to have? With a man who does dangerous things and could end up in prison?" Or worse, I'm thinking, but there's no point in saying that.

"He makes me happy," she says simply. She sits back in her chair, toys with her straw.

"It's different for me, Hadley. I'm not a lawyer. I don't have those ethical issues you do. I don't have a license with the Florida Bar that I could lose."

"Still, there are risks if you are thinking about long term with a man in that . . . line of business." And my thoughts are going to Angelica, who lost both her parents as an infant because someone in the Mafia put hit on her father.

I know I don't have to explain all this to Martina. She's not stupid.

"I don't care," Martina says, and I feel a momentary stab of envy. I wish I could just say I don't care and be with Max. But my life is complicated.

"Do you have any meetings coming up with Max? You know, on legal stuff?"

"Not that I know of, unless there's something new. Why?"

"Because maybe you ought to ask Max whether you should have me bring Gabe along on that boating thing."

"Oh, god." I'm imagining the conversation where I ask Max for advice on my dating life. "Seriously?"

"You're worried about what Gabe will or won't tell him, how he's going to react to the four of us doing basically a double-date, yeah, I do think you should just ask him."

She puts her hand on my arm, her eyes full of empathy.

"It's going to happen sooner or later, Hadley, because I'm planning to stay with Gabe and you're my best friend. Whether it's Brad or some other guy, us all spending time together is going to happen at some point. Don't you want to just get it behind you?"

No, I want to scream, I don't want to get it behind me. Because in my heart I really don't want to move on. And going out with a date with Martina and Gabe somehow makes it all the more real.

What I want is to be on a plane going far away somewhere with Max and leaving all my problems behind.

Except that's not really what I want, not entirely. I've just rediscovered my grandparents, and I have an amazing job and a future with the law firm my grandfather built. I have a father who loves me. I don't want to just disappear from my life, with Max.

I wish there was a way I could be with Max without losing myself.

But that doesn't seem possible.

As I drive back home from the gym, I decide to take Martina's advice.

I call Max.

"Hadley. Are you -"

"I'm fine, Max." I take a deep breath. "I have a question to ask you."