Текст книги "Follow Me Back"

Автор книги: A. Meredith Walters

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

I got out of the car and followed Maxx around the side of the building. It smelled like hay and horses and a lot like manure. I crinkled my nose.

“Mr. Wyatt?” Maxx called out, unlocking a gate and going inside. He held out his hand, and I took it without thinking. He pulled me after him, and I jogged a bit to keep up.

“Hi, Maxx.” A balding man with a threadbare plaid shirt and dirt-streaked jeans came out from one of the stalls, a shovel full of horse crap in his hand.

“Is it all right if we take out Brandy and Earl?” Maxx asked, still holding my hand tightly, almost as though he was worried I’d run off.

Mr. Wyatt nodded and swung the shit-laden shovel toward the stalls at the back of the stable. “Sure thing. Now, you said you had riding experience, right? What about your friend?” he asked. Maxx nodded and squeezed my hand. I nodded, too, though the truth was, I hadn’t ridden a horse since I had gone to summer camp when I was twelve.

“Okay, well, those two are gentle beasts; I don’t think you’ll have any trouble. Just stay in the corral,” Mr. Wyatt instructed.

Maxx tugged on my hand, and we walked in the direction of Brandy and Earl’s stalls. “Have you ever ridden a horse before?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

Maxx nodded his head, his lips splitting in a huge grin. “Nope.”

“Figured,” I muttered, snickering.

“How hard can it be?” Maxx shrugged, and I finally saw some of that easy confidence of the boy I used to know.

“I think you’re about to be pretty surprised,” I warned.

“I’m a quick learner. I’ve helped Wyatt put on saddles a few times. I’ve got this.” Maxx pulled two leather saddles off the wall and lugged them over to a pretty gray mare with kind black eyes and the softest ears I had ever felt.

I cooed to her, scratching her neck. Brandy was a sweet and gentle horse, which was good, because I was beginning to think this experience was going to end up with either Maxx, me, or both of us falling on our asses.

Maxx hefted the saddle onto Brandy’s back, and she stood there patiently as he fumbled with the buckles.

He grunted as he repositioned the saddle several times before getting it right. I peered at it nervously. “Are you sure it’s on there correctly?” I asked.

“Of course.” Maxx stepped close, leaning down until his mouth was next to my ear. “Don’t be scared, Aubrey. I won’t let you fall,” he said softly, his voice low.

I shivered at the feel of his breath on my neck. I couldn’t help it. It was an involuntary reaction to his proximity.

I helped Maxx drag the second saddle over to the next stall and put it on Earl’s back. Earl seemed stressed. He pawed at the ground and didn’t act overly thrilled to have Maxx attaching the saddle to his back.

“This one seems kind of hard to handle, Maxx,” I said, eyeing the horse apprehensively.

“Nah, Earl’s awesome. Wyatt rides him all the time.”

“Mr. Wyatt has also been riding horses for years. He probably makes it look pretty easy,” I offered, not trying to be a negative nelly. But the last thing I wanted was to take Maxx to the hospital with a broken neck.

“You’ll see, Aubrey. I’ll be riding this horse like a pro in no time,” Maxx stated with enough self-assurance that I almost believed him.

He was able to attach the saddle to the back of his horse a bit more easily than he could with Brandy, but when it came time to mount Earl, the ornery horse wasn’t having it. Earl moved around, not letting Maxx get a strong grip on the reins so he could pull himself up.

“Uh, I don’t think he wants you on his back, Maxx.” I chuckled, watching Maxx try to control the uncooperative horse.

“He’s just being moody,” Maxx griped, trying to put his foot in the stirrups again. Earl took a step forward, and Maxx lost his balance, falling into a pile of horseshit.

“Fucking hell!” he yelled, and I lost it. I started laughing so hard that I couldn’t breathe. Maxx struggled to his feet and promptly lost his footing again and fell onto his back.

“You could help me out here, Aubrey,” Maxx said, holding out his hand.

“Sorry, it’s just you’re in a literal pile of shit there, Maxx,” I pointed out.

“You’re so damn funny,” Maxx muttered.

I grabbed his hand and started to pull him up, when he gave my arm a hard tug and I fell beside him in the manure.

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” I shrieked, trying to stand up but losing my footing, just as Maxx had. The crap seemed to be sucking me down.

It was Maxx’s turn to crack up, but the humor of the situation was now lost on me.

The smell was atrocious, and the squishy feeling between my fingers was making me nauseous.

I looked down at my ruined clothes and at Maxx. His eyes were twinkling, and he was grinning even though we were sitting in horse poop. He looked happy. Maybe the happiest I had seen him since that day we had gone sledding.

And then I wasn’t pissed anymore.

We managed to help each other up just as Mr. Wyatt came in to see what all the commotion was about.

“Well, that’s not exactly how you ride a horse,” he said dryly, and that set us off again.

“I’m guessing the two of you are going to need a shower,” Mr. Wyatt mumbled, shaking his head at us.

“If you don’t mind, sir,” Maxx said, calming down.

“Come on, then. I have some extra clothes. And I’m sure I can find something of my wife’s for you,” Mr. Wyatt said, inclining his head in my direction.

“Thank you, Mr. Wyatt,” I said, biting on my lip to stop from snickering.

The head stable hand led us to a shower cubicle at the back of the building that had several towels hung over the door. It was a little grimy and looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned for a while.

But it was either wash myself in there or smell like horseshit.

I’d choose the moldy shower.

“It’s going to be cold. But I’m not letting you in the house smelling like that,” Mr. Wyatt said, leaving us to our shower.

“Uh, can you turn around, please?” I asked Maxx, feeling silly, considering how many times he had seen me naked in the past.

But things had definitely changed in that department.

Maxx did as he was asked. I quickly stripped and got into the shower, turning on the water and screaming when the frigid water hit my skin.

“Fucking hell!” I screeched.

I hurriedly rinsed off and wrapped myself in a towel, exiting the shower. Maxx was still standing there, now with a pair of linen trousers and a pink frilly shirt in his hands. His eyes heated as they took in my state of undress.

“Doesn’t exactly look like your style,” I joked, feeling uncomfortably hot under Maxx’s gaze.

He blinked, as if realizing that he was blatantly staring. He handed me the clothes. “Uh, yeah, these are for you.” He cleared his throat and then went in the small shower cubicle.

I quickly got dressed and realized Mrs. Wyatt must be several sizes bigger than I was. The shirt gaped open, and I had to tie a knot in the bottom so that it fit properly. I was just putting on my socks and shoes when Maxx got out. He had wrapped a towel around his waist, and I couldn’t help but stare at the droplets of water that clung to his chest.

In my efforts to get over my feelings for this complicated man, I had conveniently forgotten the intense physical attraction we shared. The lust. The desire. The longing that made it hard to breathe.

But I felt it now. It reached out and squeezed my insides, making it impossible to move.

He looked at me, his wet hair slicked back away from his face, his blue eyes hooded.

I licked my lips, and Maxx’s eyes dropped to my mouth. I remembered this feeling. This wanting and waiting that had always consumed me.

“Here you go,” I said, breaking the moment by handing him a pile of clothing Mr. Wyatt had left for him.

“Thanks,” Maxx said, taking the shirt and jeans from my hands, his fingers brushing against mine.

I pulled my hand back and shoved it into the pocket of my oversized pants, trying to ignore the tingles in my fingertips.

Our horse-riding adventure pretty much ended after that. As soon as we were finished getting dressed and awkwardly avoiding each other’s eyes, Mr. Wyatt called Maxx over.

“Just give me a minute. Let me see what he wants and then we can get out of here,” Maxx said. I nodded and watched him go over to his boss, who had lowered his head and spoke to Maxx with an apologetic look on his face.

Maxx’s face shadowed and his mouth turned down. Whatever Mr. Wyatt was saying, it didn’t make him very happy.

What was going on?

After a few more minutes, Maxx came back, not even trying to hide the look of frustration on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, after thanking Mr. Wyatt for letting us use the facilities.

Maxx didn’t answer until we were in his car and driving down the long driveway away from the stable.

“It seems that he doesn’t need me at the stable as much as he thought. He’s cut my hours. Which means I either need to find another place of employment or take on a third job if I want to keep my electricity on,” he said resentfully, jerking the steering wheel as he drove through the streets back toward town.

“Maybe the coffee shop could give you more hours,” I suggested. He looked deflated, and I knew this had to be a major blow for him. I could see how hard he was trying.

“I doubt it. They’re scraping together hours to give me as it is.” He gave me a pained smile. “I’ll figure something out. I always do,” he said.

We didn’t say anything else to each other. The surprisingly enjoyable day appeared to sort of fizzle out, as neither of us seemed in the mood to try to continue making useless conversation.

“Do you want to come over for a while?” he asked, and I found that the suggestion didn’t irritate me in the slightest. It was actually almost appealing. But I knew that I couldn’t. No matter how much fun I had with him today. I shook my head.

“I should get back. I have homework I have to get done for tomorrow’s class,” I said as an excuse. Maxx’s face darkened briefly before smoothing out. He gave me a short nod and didn’t say anything else.

A tension radiated from him that made me nervous. I opened my mouth several times to say something to dispel the uneasy energy, but could never think of anything to say.

I was relieved when he pulled up in front of my apartment building. Maxx’s change in mood reminded me so much of the man that I remembered.

I turned to say thank you for our day, when he reached across the seat and cupped his hand around the back of my head.

I pulled back from his grip, ready to push him away. My heart slammed in my chest, and my breath came out in short, erratic puffs.

“What are you doing?” I demanded. Why was he ruining our perfectly good day?

Maxx’s hand curled around the back of my neck, his fingers threading into the hair at the base of my skull, the slight pressure causing my pulse to race.

“Don’t tell me to stop. I just want to remember what it feels like to get lost in you, back when it all made a crazy sort of sense,” he begged, pulling me toward him, capturing my lips before I could object.

I startled in response, tensing, ready to pull away again.

“Please, Aubrey. You can deny what’s between us later. You can tell yourself that you’ve moved on. That you want nothing to do with me. But you and I both know that’s not the truth. And I had hoped we had finally stopped lying to each other,” Maxx murmured against my mouth.

Then he was kissing me again, and I didn’t stop him.

The fight left me. The anger, the bitterness, the purposeful isolation disintegrated instantly.

Kissing Maxx was like waking up. Like stepping through the mist into a clearing. It was love and lust and passion. It was pain and anguish and gut-wrenching turmoil.

It was everything.

My lips parted almost involuntarily, and his tongue swept in, tangling with mine. He moaned, intense and low, and wove his fingers in my hair, burying deep. I couldn’t help my body’s response as I melted into him.

My lips had missed kissing him.

My fingers had missed touching him.

My heart missed beating only for him.

I gave up fighting the inevitable and wrapped my arms around him, holding him as tightly as he held me.

The feel of him in my mouth was familiar and intoxicating.

This is what oblivion tasted like.

Slowly, his lips became less frantic until he stopped kissing me altogether and he rested his forehead against mine.

“I know you’ve said you don’t want this. But I’m all in, Aubrey. I always have been.”

I closed my eyes and tried to get my breathing under control.

“I have to go,” I whispered, trying to move and failing. Finally, I was able to unwrap my arms from around Maxx and pulled myself away.

With shaking hands I opened the door of his car and got out. I walked up the steps to my apartment building, escaping to the safety of my own four walls.

Escaping the truth that reverberated through my body.

I loved Maxx.

What was I going to do with that?

chapter

twenty-one

maxx

i didn’t want Aubrey to go home. I knew that if I let her leave when I felt like this, I couldn’t trust myself alone. Having my hours cut at the stable had left me reeling—I had no idea how I was going to manage to scrape by without that money. My immediate thought after receiving the unwanted news was that I wanted to get high. Really fucking high. And forget about how much my life sucked.

I could have called a hotline or one of the numbers the counselors at Barton House had given me. But I didn’t want to call a fucking hotline.

I only wanted Aubrey.

And so I’d kissed her like a man drowning. And she hadn’t pulled away. She took everything that I gave her.

I felt it. That moment when she surrendered herself to me all over again. The taste of it was sweet on my tongue as I took exactly what I wanted.

It had been a while since I hadn’t asked permission to fucking breathe. I grabbed her, and I held on like my life depended on it.And maybe it did.

But then it was over and she was leaving and I was left alone.

Always alone.

I drove home, feeling depressed and not entirely sure what the hell I was going to do and whether I had the energy to try.

I walked up the stairs to my apartment trying to figure out my next move. Finding another job seemed like the most sensible plan. But the thought of pounding the pavement attempting to find someone who would be willing to give me a chance made me want to smash stuff.

I thought again about the art gallery and how royally I had screwed it up. I had been holding the golden goose in my hand, and I had lost it. And now here I was trying to find a way to survive without falling back on the easy solution. The club. The drugs. Quick cash in my pocket.

But what would be the price?

“Where the fuck have you been?” a voice growled from the shadowed recess beside my door. Marco stood up from where he had been sitting on the floor and gave me a look that could break bones.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, wondering about my chances of knocking his ass out and getting into my apartment. The last thing I wanted was to deal with Marco and whatever he had come here to say.

“Oh, I don’t know. How about the fact that you dropped off the fucking Earth and Gash is ready to roast your ass on a pike?” Marco shouted, his voice echoing down the hallway. My meth-head neighbor opened his door a crack and peeked out. I could see one bloodshot eye watching Marco and me as we squared off outside my apartment.

“I’m not doing this shit out here,” I replied, shouldering past the guy who had been my friend for over five years, and put my key into the lock.

“Then we’ll talk about this inside. But I’m not fucking leaving until you give me some goddamned answers!” Marco roared, pushing past me and into my apartment.

I flicked on the light and figured I might as well have this out with him now. I had avoided it long enough, and I knew Marco wasn’t going anywhere until he got what he wanted.

And right now that was a small dose of truth.

Marco tossed something at me and it smacked my chest. I grabbed it before it could fall to the floor. I held it up and saw that it was a plastic bag with a dozen or so pills of all different colors.

My only salvation and my greatest nightmare.

“I don’t want this shit, Marco,” I said, holding out the bag for him to take.

Marco shook his head. “I figured you needed some incentive to tell me what’s been going on with you,” he said, sitting down on my couch and putting his dirty boots up on the clean coffee table.

My hand shook as I held the pills. My ears buzzed, and I couldn’t see anything but the drugs in my hand.

“Have you become a housekeeper or something? Your place is seriously clean. I’d be impressed if I didn’t want to rip your nut sack off and shove it up your ass,” Marco was saying, though I barely heard him. My mouth had gone dry, and my heart started to pound.

I’m right here, Maxx. I’ve never really left you. Not like everyone else. You can always count on me.

The goddamned voice was back. I heard it as clear as if it were a real person whispering in my ear.

I could barely control my fingers as I twisted the bag into a knot and shoved the pills into my pocket. Nausea erupted in the pit of my stomach, and I felt bile crawl up the back of my throat.

“Have you gone deaf as well as stupid since I saw you last, fuck face?” Marco threw a pillow at my head, and I didn’t even bother to catch it.

“I don’t have time for your crap, Marco. Say what you want to say and get the fuck out.” I gritted my teeth and swallowed the urge to punch him in the face. This guy had been my closest friend for years. But it wasn’t what you’d call a “healthy” friendship. Our relationship had thrived on the worst of each other. He was the one who could undo everything I was trying to accomplish. And he didn’t even realize it. And I doubted he’d even care.

Marco’s face darkened, and I knew that we were dangerously close to coming to blows.

“You’re a dick, Maxx. You disappear for over a month, leaving me in the fucking lurch. You took off with Gash’s money and his fucking drugs, and then you don’t answer my calls? I’ve been by this shithole every week since you up and took a trip to la-la land and this is the crap I get from you? I’ve had your fucking back for years, X. You and me, we had an agreement. And you flaked. Pretty hard core, too. I deserve some answers as to where the hell you went.” Marco swung his feet to the floor and sat up, no longer lounging like he owned the place.

I thought about telling him where I had been. That I had almost died and had gone to rehab. I probably should have. It would have been the smart thing to do. To be honest with the only pathetic excuse for a friend I’d ever had.

But Marco wouldn’t get it. And more important, he wouldn’t give a shit, because in the end, I had bailed. There weren’t enough excuses in the world to make him okay with that.

“I had stuff going on with Landon,” I lied, hoping it would be enough of an answer to let me off the hook without going into specifics.

“What was up with Landon?” Marco asked, as cold as ever. Of course he knew my brother. He had spent time at my house before I had graduated high school and Landon had been much younger.

“It was a bunch of drama with David. You know how it goes. I had some things to sort out and square away.” I had forgotten how good I was at lying. It was effortless, like sugar on my tongue.

Marco’s face smoothed out marginally, and I knew he had bought my story. “Well, you’d better get your kneepads ready, because you’re going to have to do some serious sucking in order to make it up to Gash. And I hope like hell you have his money. Otherwise you’ll be eating out of your asshole for the rest of your life.”

It was good that I had put the wad of cash from that last night at the club in my dresser before heading to rehab. I had sold the entire supply Gash had given me to sell. I had made the fucker his money before taking enough smack to stop my heart.

I walked back to my room and got the bundle of cash I had stuffed into a sock in the back of my drawer. I came back out to the living room and handed Marco the money.

He quickly counted it and looked relieved it was all there. “Shit, you actually did what you were supposed to for once. You’re damn lucky, X. Gash has been livid since you pulled your Houdini act. He wants you back at the club immediately. Like, now. He’s been on a hair trigger lately. He fired Randy and got rid of three of the bartenders. He’s tearing through staff like crazy. Someone’s lit a fire under his ass, and he’s ready to rip us all a new one.” Marco scratched the douchey goatee he had grown in my absence, looking as nervous as I’d ever seen him.

“I don’t think I’m going back to the club, man,” I said, ready for the fireworks.

And Marco didn’t disappoint. His face went molten red, and he looked like he was ready to spit nails. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he demanded.

“Just what I fucking said! I’m done with the club! I’m gonna try to play it straight for a while,” I said, hating that I sounded like such a pussy. And hating that I wished I could take back the words as soon as I had said them.

“Why in the hell would you want to do that? We’re making a mint! So because you’ve developed some sort of sudden moral fucking center, I’m going to have to suffer because of it? You really are a selfish prick, you know that?” he yelled, kicking over my coffee table.

“Dude, if you’re going to break shit, go somewhere else and have your hissy fit,” I told him dryly.

Marco gave me a dirty look, but leaned down and picked up the overturned table. He sighed and pulled at the silver hoop in his lip. “Do you have something against cash, Maxx? Because I know you can’t be so stupid to think you can get that sort of scratch at a nine-to-five. We’ve got a great little operation going on. And now that Gash is cutting down on people, he’s less focused on what I’m doing at the door. He’s more interested in his other side projects. He’s been meeting a lot with those dudes from Mexico. He won’t give a shit about some money missing from the door every night. We could even increase the amount if we’re careful. This is the time to make some serious coin, man.” Marco’s eyes snapped, and he was a man with some intense conviction. He made it damn hard to say no.

Because he was right. I couldn’t make the kind of money I did at the club anywhere else. I’d had my chance to make something of myself and had blown it. My art, even school, had become nothing more than wasted opportunities in the wreckage of my life. I fingered the bag of pills in my pocket, feeling their familiar round smoothness.

“Just come by the club this weekend. Talk to Gash. See what he has to say. If you tell him what was going on with your brother, he probably won’t use your face as a punching bag,” Marco suggested, and I smirked.

“Golly gee, you make that sound so appealing,” I responded sarcastically, even as I was already considering his offer.

“Just come by. Don’t fuck yourself because of some newfound scruples. Screw that shit. That’s not who you are. You’re fucking X, dude. Don’t forget that.” Marco pointed at the bag of pills I had unconsciously taken out of my pocket and held between my fingers.

“You need to take the edge off. I can tell it’s been a while,” he said, and walked out the door.

I crumpled the bag in my hands and headed to the bathroom, before I could talk myself out of it. I lifted the toilet lid and held open the bag, watching as a handful of pills fell into the water. Before the last of them could fall, I quickly stuffed it back into my pocket.

I flushed the toilet and then hurried down the hall to my bedroom, shoving the bag into the back of my drawer.

I slammed it shut and fell back against the dresser, breathing heavily. My skin was clammy with sweat, and my throat felt tight with the overwhelming urge to swallow the last two pills in the bag. I wanted them.

I didn’t think I had ever wanted anything so much in my entire sad fucking life. I couldn’t. I wasn’t going to crawl back to that, no matter how much I craved it with every cell, every molecule, in my body.

I’ll be here whenever you need me, they whispered.

I covered my ears with my hands and wanted to scream for them to leave me the hell alone! That I wasn’t that guy anymore! That I wouldn’t let myself be him! I had people who were counting on me. People who needed me to be someone different.

I slid down to the floor and closed my eyes. And then I leaned over and threw up onto my carpet. Acidic bile dribbled from my mouth, and I wiped it away with the hem of my shirt. My head was pounding and my ears were ringing as I forced myself to forget about the drugs I had stupidly hung on to.

The drugs, now that I had them again, I couldn’t let go of. I wanted to, but I had learned a long time ago that want and need were two entirely different things.