Sam's got a crush. Max just got dumped. And they're about to spend three weeks in a tour van.
I know it’s time to address the elephant in the room. I am hopelessly, irrevocably head over my fucking heels in love with my best friend.
My completely straight best friend. I’m such a fucking cliche.
Sam never asked to fall in love with Max. They’ve been best friends ever since the baby music class where Max crawled across the floor and stole Sam’s tambourine, and now they’re about to leave for a three-week tour with their indie punk band. Max is great. He’s funny and loyal and sweet—but Sam’s not an idiot. He’s not going to throw away twenty years of friendship and blow up their tour for a stupid crush.
Max isn’t going to let anything ruin his summer. Sure, he just got brutally dumped, and he’s pretty sure he’s never going to get it up with a girl again. But he doesn’t need that shit, right? He has Sam, and Sam’s the best friend anybody could ask for. Max doesn’t even mind that everyone always thinks they’re boyfriends, because Sam is smart and thoughtful and goddamn pretty and—
Wait, what? Um, nothing to see here. Tour makes you think weird things, that’s all.
Max is definitely straight. And Sam’s going to keep his mouth shut. That’s how it’s always been, right? Right.
A high-heat MM friends to lovers romance featuring mutual pining, grungy basement floors, a healthy dose of punk nostalgia, and a guaranteed HEA.
