Max likes you. A lot. Which is saying something, because the only thing he can compare his feelings for you to, is how he feels about racing, but even that feels like it is lacking. Doesn't capture the depth of his feelings. With racing, there is nothing but anger. A desire to win. A way to release pent up stress. He is competitive there. Rude. Mean. All the things be tries not to be around you.

He also, knows that you don't know he likes you. This is not a new thing, because you are so utterly oblivious that he has just resigned himself to hoping you will open your eyes one day and realise how foolish he is around you. How insane he is. That he would probably do just about anything you asked him to, as long as you pouted at him in that whiny way you always do and grabbed at his arm to persuade him.

'hey, you guys look good together. happy for you.'

Which is exactly why he is very confused why he is getting this text from you. Max hasn't really thought about who he's talked to anyone the whole hangout, but clearly, you have. '..Happy for me, why?' he scans the room, seeing you sitting there, your phone in hand with the prettiest frown he's ever seen on you.

'i just picked up a vibe between you and her?'

'Do you often hallucinate when you are jealous?'

'im not jealous.'

Oh, if only you knew how bad he wanted you. He supposes now isn't such a bad time to tell you. 'The only vibe you should pick up is between us. I am too busy looking at you to care about anyone else.' Maybe it is the two drinks he's had today, but there is a rush of confidence bursting in his veins. 'oh, would you look at that, someone is calling me. gtg, max! see you later!'

Max rolls his eyes. How could you escape when he was sat right there? He stands up, walking across the room. "You think I will leave you alone after you admitted to being jealous, schatje? Do not be stupid." he glances at your friends, before tugging you off to the closest bathroom. He couldn't have his.. friend be jealous, could he?