Текст книги "Becoming His"
Автор книги: Mariah Dietz
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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 24 страниц)
“Are you seriously calling me a liar? Call him,” I challenge, unlatching my seat belt. “Go ahead call him.”
Max doesn’t turn to look at me.
I shake my head in frustration, fighting the desire to spew the angry words forming on my tongue. Leaving my keys in the ignition I grab my purse, stalk across the parking lot, not bothering to look back as I hear Kendall’s irritated tone.
Antonio’s Pizza House is located in a strip mall with a dozen other stores, and I head into a small boutique.
I send a message to Kendall telling her to drive my car back, and that I’ll be leaving with Abby. I turn my phone off before she can respond and see Abby pull up. I climb into the passenger seat, still avoiding eye contact with my car.
Abby drives us to the movies when I tell her I’m not ready to go back home. She allows me time to work through my thoughts in silence as we sit through the previews. This is one of the many reasons I love Abby so much: She doesn’t push me when she knows I need some time to simply process.
The movie serves as a lousy distraction. By the time it’s over I’ve concluded that I’m being childish and have likely destroyed my relationship with the first person I’ve ever had this strong of emotions for with my infamous running. Then I flip to the complete opposite end of the spectrum, justifying my actions, convincing myself I haven’t done anything wrong. I dance between each possible reality half a dozen times at least.
“So do you want to talk about it?” Abby asks as we stand to leave.
“I met one of our neighbors this afternoon,” I say with a heavy sigh. She looks at me blankly. “I know him. He went to school with us. When we were leaving, he was just getting home and fired off some inappropriate comments that pissed Max off. Then Kendall decided to take a play from Captain Stupid and decided it would be a good idea to bring up a situation with Pedro. Max got all jealous and weird and accused me of sleeping with Pedro.”
“Pedro from Dante’s?” I nod and watch as she absorbs the information.
“I did think Pedro liked you.” She glances at me nervously as I groan.
“It doesn’t matter! We’re just friends! And more importantly, I didn’t sleep with him!”
“He knows you didn’t. He’s just jealous. I’m sure he was recalling the way Pedro checked you out at Dante’s and with this guy saying inappropriate things, he just overreacted.” She gently shoves me with her elbow as we step outside. “Don’t chicken out now. You like him. You like him a lot. You said yourself love is all about feeling extreme emotions, what is it? Big gesture, stalking, crazy-jealous, life-sacrificing … I’m missing one.”
I shake my head and climb into the passenger seat, feeling nervous at the prospect of discussing things with Max.
“Craving!” she yells, shutting her car door, “Craving! That’s the one!” She looks over at me with a smile. “So are you craving to go and get things settled between you two love birds?”
“Abby, he wants me to move because Nate lives there.” She looks taken aback.
“What in the hell did this guy do?” she asks.
“Nothing, he was just trying to get a reaction.”
“Well, first things first, let’s get you to Max so you guys can talk.” My fingers absently fidget with the hem of my shorts as I consider what Max’s reaction to me will be. “Hey,” Abby says, taking my hand in hers. I glance up at her big brown eyes as she scans over my face. “Harper, he’s crazy about you. Don’t worry. This is just normal couple stuff. It will be water under the bridge.”
I pray she’s right.
When we arrive back to our apartment my eyes scan the parking lot and quickly locate my car parked beside Max’s Jeep. Noticing that both are empty, I fish out my phone and impatiently wait for it to power on. When it finally comes to life, it informs me that I have twelve text messages and four new voicemails. My chest is tight with nerves, not certain that I want to read or hear any of them. Abby stands beside me, encouraging me with a tight squeeze to my left hand.
I open the texts, and pull up Jameson’s first.
Jameson: Y didnt u take me with u????!!!!
I grin, grateful for a comedic introduction. Next I open Kendall’s.
Kendall: I cnt believe U ran away, wut is this-middle school?
That one hurts a little.
Kendall:UR going to screw things up.
That one hurts a little more.
Kendall:Im sry, Ace, I shouldnt hve mentioned Pedro.
Kendall: I luv u 2, the boys will b at my apt, plz C us when U get home. LOVE U 2!
Max’s are next.
Max: Im sorry for being an ass, can we plz talk?
Max: Im trying to respect ur space, but we need 2 talk.
Max: Dammit, Ace, will u plz talk to me?
Max: I’m going to be at Kendall’s, we need to talk.
I silently groan, looking up at the night sky and reciting another prayer that Abby is right. I catch sight of the full moon, which glows full and bright, almost taunting me as it says, “Yes, I do have this kind of power.”
I don’t bother with the voicemails.
Assuring Abby that I’ll be fine so she doesn’t feel guilty for leaving me to visit Jesse, I head over to Kendall’s apartment with my heart thrumming as though I’ve spent the last hour sprinting.
I enter the apartment without knocking when I hear music seeping from the door and look around to see several familiar faces and many more that aren’t as I try to find Kendall or Max. I finally catch sight of Max standing casually by the kitchen table, holding a drink in his hand, looking completely relaxed, surrounded by three girls. I quickly notice one of them, an attractive blonde, has her hand on his arm, awakening my insecurities.
I turn back to the front door and am engulfed in a tight hug. My face swims in long, dark hair that smells like it was saturated in musky vanilla perfume. I hate the smell of vanilla perfumes. The scent’s permanently ruined for me when I’d witnessed too many girls from high school trying to get a guy’s attention by bathing in vanilla.
I pull back to see who my squealing hugger is: Kristy Barton. Kristy’s a nice girl, but she’s a chameleon; anytime she’s around someone new she changes. She also speaks with her voice a few octaves higher than my ears appreciate and wears clothes that don’t leave much to the imagination.
“Oh my gosh, it’s so great to see you, Harper! You look amazing!” I’m not sure if she’s being sarcastic or not as I look down at my gray V-cut blouse and maroon shorts and then to her sequin dress.
“Thanks, so do you. I forgot they were having party,” I fiddle with the hem of my shorts.
“I met your boyfriend! He’s ridiculously hot! If he has any friends, I’m interested!” Had he introduced himself as my boyfriend? Or had Kendall?
“Yeah, I was just coming to talk to him,” I lie. “Nice to see you, Kristy.” I run a hand through my hair, hoping to add some volume to it, and walk over to where Max stands with his entourage of girls that has grown by two in the few minutes I was talking to Kristy..
“So how do you know Kendall?” A nasally brunette purrs, placing a hand on Max’s chest.
I stop, waiting for his reaction. Max looks down at her hand and then to her face, “She’s my girlfriend’s sister,” He responds, taking a step back and bringing his drink to his lips.
My lips lift into a smile. Moving to stand directly behind him, I wrap my arms around his waist. Max’s torso twists around and his bright blue eyes relax as he sees me. His mouth slowly curls into a smile as he pulls me into an embrace and bends down to kiss me. I’m not a big PDA person, however some possessive impulse flares inside of me, and I push myself closer to his body and deepen the kiss.
We reluctantly pull apart and I notice that the fan group has disintegrated much to my satisfaction. Max leans down and softly kisses my temple and gives my hip another gentle squeeze.
“I’m sorry, Ace. I was just, I don’t know …” he says, letting out a long breath through his nose. “Insanely jealous. I know you haven’t lied, and I’m sorry about the accusation. I was an ass.” I take his palm and press it to my lips.
“I appreciate that, and I’m sorry for my escape. It was childish and not the right way to resolve things.”
“But …”
“You know Nathan Hudson means absolutely nothing to me. Nothing,” I repeat to add emphasis. Max nods and runs a hand over his hair. “I don’t want someone to be the reason we fail before we’ve hardly begun, especially not him, because I really like kissing you, Max.”
“I really hate that son of a bitch.”
“And you really like kissing me too,” I say, pushing up on my toes to kiss him again. I feel the smile on his lips before he kisses me back with more force.
I turn as Kendall slaps me on my ass. Her chin tilts and her blue eyes connect with mine, and just like that we’re okay. Growing up with as many arguments as we did, we’re both quick to forgive and forget, and usually smart enough to know when to be mad and when to let things go.
Heading back to my apartment, I’m feeling the effects of not eating enough and drinking two shots and a beer that was promised wouldn’t taste like beer, but did. I’m feeling silly and giggling about absolutely nothing.
Abby’s still out and I reckon she will be all night when I see her message on our dry erase board hanging on the fridge:
Good luck! Love you, be safe tonight! XOXOXO Abs.
I make my way over to our small living room and drop onto the couch, thoroughly amused by the simple act, and the sound that accompanies my graceless maneuver. “Let’s go!” I proclaim slapping both sides of the couch as Max wanders around the kitchen.
“Where do you want to go?” he asks, opening several cupboards before retrieving a glass.
“I want to do something crazy!” I stand, and go to the fridge where he’s filling the glass with water.
“Something crazy?” he asks, smiling, “Like being crazy and drinking some water so you don’t have a hangover tomorrow? The crazy being that you’re being amazingly responsible?”
I frown at him, making him laugh. “What kind of crazy do you want to do?” He sets the glass on the counter and wraps me in his arms.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Remember, I don’t do crazy very often. You’re going to have to help me out.”
“Let’s get you a jacket,” Max leads me to my room.
“What are we going to do?” I cry, bounding over to where he stands in front of my overly stuffed closet.
“You’ll see,” he replies, looking lost.
I smile and grab a black, light weight jacket and turn, pressing my lips firmly to his. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and dig my fingers into his shirt as my entire body melts into him. “I really enjoy kissing you, Max. Like really, really enjoy it.” I take his hand in mine and drop back to my heels with a small sigh. “Okay, show me crazy!”
Max pauses, a small smile playing on his full lips red and swollen from our kiss. His cobalt blue eyes are full of light as he looks down at me. He wraps his arm around my back, once again pulling me to him, and kisses me hard on the lips then looks at me with a satisfied grin.
Max drives a little over thirty minutes while we talk and laugh about every random thought that enters my slightly inebriated mind. Finally we pull up to a small brick building that I can tell is a bar by the beer bottle-shaped neon lights adorning the windows. A dingy sign informs me we’re at O’Tooles.
“I should’ve asked you this, but do you have a fake ID?”
“Fake ID, huh?” I pluck a card from my wallet and hand it to Max.
“You took Kendall’s license?” he asks quietly, as we approach the door.
I shake my head, grinning. “She told them she lost it.” I wink as I pass him and walk into the small, slightly dilapidated building that reminds me a bit too much of the tattoo parlor.
No one bothers carding either of us, and looking around I’m not surprised. The place is a hole-in-the-wall. Granted, it’s a really packed hole-in-the-wall.
I stay close to Max as he leads us to one of the only vacant tables located near the center of the room. There’s a large stage at the front of the bar where a man is brutally mutilating “Cry” by Aerosmith.
I look from the stage to Max.
“Is this the crazy you had in mind?” he asks with a smile.
“Is the crazy part listening or singing?” Max laughs and I smile, watching the ease and beauty behind his joy.
“Have you ever sang karaoke?” he asks.
“I’m tone deaf,” I say, pointing to my right ear. “I don’t even sing in the shower, let alone in front of …” I look around at the crowded room cheering as the guy hits a note that has me flinching. “This is crazy,” I whisper to myself, taking it all in.
“You said you wanted crazy.” His voice holds a note of a challenge that makes my eyes grow at the prospect of really doing this.
“Alright, if you go with me! I’m going to get us a couple of shots. I need some more liquid courage!”
I get back to the table as Max is returning from the stage, grinning as he reaches for the tray crowded with four shots and two beers.
“I thought you didn’t like beer?”
“This is a hard cider,” I answer with a shrug. “I figure in case I need to nurse something, I can drink it. Otherwise, you can.” I take a seat and lean forward so I can talk over the noise. “I know you like whiskey, but I just learned there’s big difference between the different kinds, so I got us each a whiskey sour and a malt. I heard you tell my dad you like lager beers, which I also had to ask the bartender to explain, and he guaranteed me you’ll like this!”
When Max doesn’t reply, I look up to ensure he’s able to hear me. He’s staring at me, his eyes warm, yet guarded, like he’s waiting for me to tell him the bad side of things. I open my mouth to say something, I’m not even quite sure what, when he grabs my arms and pulls me out of my seat and into his chest and roughly kisses me.
“Thank you!” he says, looking at me with his intense blue eyes. I smile before I lean forward, kissing him again.
The night passes too fast as we laugh and sing along with others on stage. We chat with another couple that briefly joins our table when the place is too packed for any empty tables, and we kiss. We kiss a lot.
By the time we get home we’re both exhausted and I’ve had too much to drink to not start sleeping soon. Max leads me to my room before heading back into the kitchen. I brush my teeth and shuffle into my room where I peel off my clothes and change before Max appears with two glasses of water. I drink them both and lay my head on the cool cotton of my pillow as my ears ring in the quietness of my apartment.
“Where are you going?” I mumble, hearing the quiet swish of fabric. I look up to see Max standing in my doorway with his back to me.
“The couch.”
I shake my head and pat the bed beside me. “Come on, you can sleep above the sheet if you don’t trust me,” I say, sticking out my bottom lip.
“That pout could make world leaders sign peace treaties.” He sighs in defeat and pulls off his T-shirt. The sight of him unbuckling his jeans has me swallowing. Maybe this was a bad idea. Max stands before me in his boxer briefs.
I’ve seen him in his bathing suit dozens of times, this is no different, I repeat to myself as I pull the blankets down. “Don’t worry, I’m too tipsy to try much. I feel like I’m about to sleep for twelve days.”
“I’m worried about my self-control, not yours,” Max admits. He hesitates another beat before I see the resolve cross his face, and he slides under the covers.
I snuggle myself close to him and shiver, feeling the warmth of his skin radiating against mine. Max reaches over and pulls me closer, wrapping an arm under my neck so my head rests on his shoulder. He then hitches my leg so it lies between his thighs, my foot between his knees. I drape my right arm across his chest, and take deep breaths of Max as his hand lightly combs through my hair.
“Thank you. That was the best crazy I’ve ever had,” I whisper, closing my heavy eyes as sleep pulls me under.
The next afternoon I patiently sit on Kendall’s couch as she wraps up a call to Jameson, huffing about us being on our way.
I lift an eyebrow as she throws her phone in her purse like she’s pitching a softball. “Everything okay?”
She looks over at me and we silently stare at one another for a long moment before she lets out a loud sigh and follows me down the apartment stairs where our shoes slap against the metal. I silently climb into the passenger seat of her car, watching as the words work through her mind. Usually Kendall speaks through her thoughts, rather than processing them first like I do, making me feel slightly anxious for what she’s about to tell me.
Her head leans against the headrest, gazing into the parking lot, while holding her keys in a loose fist. “I think I love him.”
She slowly turns to face me, and I see the fear etched across her face. My sister has used the “L” word in nearly half of her relationships, but I can tell this is different. This is sincere. I remain silent, allowing the words to penetrate the air as we both digest them.
“I love him,” she repeats with more conviction, turning to look at me. I smile at her reassuringly. “We’re dating best friends and I love him. What if something turns bad?”
I shrug, not even wanting to consider the possibility. “We’re all adults, and we’ve been friends, so we know if something happens, we can always go back to that.” Her lips turn down in a grimace, and I reach my hand to grip hers. “Right now everything is going great. You can’t worry about something happening that hasn’t. You’ll drive yourself crazy. Stop acting like me.” Kendall breaks into a grin and lets out a small laugh.
“Seriously, I am becoming you.” She groans, sliding her eyes back to me. “Really, though, I’ll always choose you first. I promise. Nothing will ever come between us.”
“I would never make you choose.”
“You’ll never have to. You’re more than just my sister. You’re my best friend.”
“I love you too,” I say, squeezing her hand. “You should tell him you love him.”
Kendall squeezes my hand in reply and then makes a flippant comment about my boobs looking bigger, and we spend the short car ride joking and laughing.
“Are you kidding me? For the love of all things holy!” I look up from my phone and see Max’s Jeep and Jameson’s car, then take in the moderately-sized tan house that looks too nice to have college students living in it, even if it is a rental. I look back to her in confusion and see the scowl on her face. I follow her gaze out the driver’s side window to see three scantily-clad women doing yard work.
I burst into laughter and climb out of the car with my bag in hand as Kendall follows me to the door, muttering under her breath. When the door opens Landon stands before us holding a bottle of beer and smiling.
“Hey, ladies! Do you need help with those?” he asks, lifting his beer in greeting.
“I think your neighbors are begging for help,” Kendall snaps, pushing past Landon who raises his eyebrows and looks at me in confusion. He takes a couple of steps forward and peers out the open front door to see a girl in a pair of shorts that look like she outgrew when she was seven, along with a bikini top and cowboy boots, mowing the lawn.
“If that does anything for you, please don’t tell me,” I say, taking a couple of steps inside.
Landon chuckles and closes the door as Max comes in the room, hair still wet from showering and a short layer of scruff on his jaw from not shaving today. He looks sexy as hell. I hoist my bag further up on my shoulder and lean forward to kiss him.
“What’s Kendall talking about? Rabid skanks?” he asks, taking my overnight bag from my shoulder, a smile playing on his lips.
“Your neighbors. They’re working pretty hard to get your attention.” I nod toward the large picture window beside the living room which is mostly bare except for a foosball table. “Tell her they look desperate and trashy.” Max walks to the window and peers out.
“Okay, tell me they look desperate and trashy.”
He closes the shade with a pull of the string and faces me with a growing smile. “Rabid skanks for sure.”
Landon laughs, retreating down the hallway. Max leans forward and gives me another quick kiss, taking my hand in his, and proceeds to give me a tour of their house.
It’s apparent it’s been well taken care of, with newer updates that were obviously done with care and precision. It’s clean, but feels slightly empty with sparse furniture and nearly no decorations. We finish upstairs where there’s a large room for storage and Max’s bedroom. He opens the door and I feel relieved he looks as nervous as I feel.
Max’s room is painted white, like the rest of the house. His king-sized bed sits against the far wall, covered in a navy blue comforter with a nightstand on each side, each adorned with a matching lamp. A large bureau sits across from the bed with a TV sitting atop it and a couple of framed pictures I zero in on immediately. There’s one of us from this summer, wearing our bathing suits. I’m sitting on his lap, my back pressed against his chest, wearing matching smiles so big it looks like our cheeks should ache. I don’t know where he got the picture and can’t even remember that moment, but a thrill goes through me seeing I hold a place in Max’s room. Beside it rests a picture of his mom, brothers, and him, all looking much more serious in a beautiful black and white image.
My thoughts break, hearing a soft thud. I turn and see my bag leaning against the armoire. Max has an undefined look in his eyes as his bare feet pad against the hardwood floor, stopping when he’s standing inches from me. He bends slowly, too slowly, and kisses me.
My arms wrap around his neck on their own accord, possibly his. Max’s hands sit on the curve of my hips, holding me securely to him as he pulls back and his eyes scan over me, reading my thoughts.
“I like this.” I gently brush my fingers along the length of his jaw; the sharp shadow from not shaving has favorable effects on my body. “I’d like to see you with this in four weeks and six days.”
Max grins and presses his lips to mine and gently lays me on his bed. He climbs over me, kissing his way along my neck until we hear Kendall yelling for us.
I groan as Max stops and lifts himself off of the bed, looking down at where I refuse to stand, not sure my legs will be able to support me after that kiss.
“God you’re beautiful,” he says, his head shaking as he leans down to give me a chaste kiss.
That night I triple check that I have everything for classes the next day. I’m on a waiting list for two classes: Philosophy and Bio-Chemistry. My mom was reluctant to allow me to sign up for the diverse smattering of classes ranging from political science to anatomy, however my dad encouraged it saying it was good for me to experience as much as I could to make an informed decision. Mom never seemed to fully buy it, but after I picked up another science course she seemed a little less hesitant.
I arrive to Philosophy fifteen minutes early and feel grateful I do when I see the class is already quite full. I quickly scan the room and elect to take an empty seat in the front row, directly in front of the podium.
“Well, what do you know, it’s my neighbor! We could be carpool buddies.” I look up from my laptop to see Nate approaching. I frown and busy myself as he slides into the seat beside me.
“I didn’t see you around last night. Don’t tell me you guys are that serious. It might break my heart.” I roll my eyes, keeping them forward. Apparently ignoring him isn’t giving him the satisfaction he’s looking for, because only a few seconds tick by before he reaches out and flicks a few strands of my hair.
I grab my laptop, preparing to move, when the door opens again and a man that doesn’t look much older than us but is distinguishably a professor dressed in a brown suede sport coat and loafers. He takes a few long strides to the front of the room and stands behind the podium where he quickly scribbles something on a sheet of paper and then stalks back to the door. He opens it and tapes the note on the outside before turning to face us again.
“Alright, welcome to Philosophy. I understand there’s a waiting list to be in here, so I’ll congratulate you all on making it past the first step, which was getting here on time.”
Class is riveting. Professor Parker is incredibly intelligent and has a very dry sense of humor that I enjoy immensely. There’s something about him that draws me to him.
“Since this is Philosophy, and the oldest philosophical question that seems to be asked is which came first, the chicken or the egg, I’d like you to go and ask your friends, family, strangers for their opinions and answers on this question. Then I want you to shape your own answer and be ready to defend it on Friday. Then we’ll know who will be staying and who will be leaving.”
When he dismisses us I remain seated waiting for Nate to gather his things and leave. He makes it obvious that he has no intention of hurrying, so I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder, making a wide berth around his seat, and follow the trickling line of students out the door.
As I arrive in the science ward, I pull out my phone to check the time and notice I have a text from Max. The edges of my lips go up in an involuntary grin as I open it.
Max: I h8 philosophy. I want U here.
Bio-Chem is boring—painfully boring—mostly attributed to our professor who speaks about three words per minute with the most monotone voice I’ve ever heard apart from Ben Stein. My mother, being from Texas, speaks slowly and with a drawl, but she’s a speed talker in comparison.
When we’re finally excused, my body itches to move and my mind feels half numb. I’d tried numerous times to make myself focus on the syllabus and what we’d be learning, but my mind wandered around faster than a pinball while she droned on. Max, and my birthday, occupies my thoughts and whether I should tell him about Nate being in my Philosophy class, and pretty much everything, other than Bio-Chem.
The warm September sun pours down on me. My eyes float to the clear skies, noting the morning clouds that seem to frequently make an appearance in San Diego mornings have lifted, and it’s another beautiful day … then I spot him.
Max leans against the wall, his foot casually propped up, while a girl from my last class talks to him, wrapping strands of her hair around her fingers. Max’s eyes skip past her and dance along the other students that mill past. I grin, gripping the strap of my backpack and approach them.
His face lights up as I catch his attention. He turns and quickly says something to the girl and pushes away from the wall to meet me as I launch myself into his arms, like it’s been weeks rather than hours since I last saw him.
“God, I needed to see you.”
I lean back to look at him. “Bad morning?”
He shrugs, obviously wanting to avoid it. “On the bright side it looks like good camping weather. How were your classes?”
“Bio-Chem was pretty mind-numbing.”
Max laughs and nods in understanding. “What about Philosophy?”
“It was good.” I hear my voice go up at the end, almost as if I’m posing my statement as a question, and feel Max’s eyes turn to me. “It was good,” I say, nodding with more conviction, “But Nate’s in the class.” I look up to gauge his reaction to the news.
“Nathan Hudson is in your class? Are you serious?” I watch the muscles in his neck and arms tighten, making his veins bulge. He runs his free hand over his head a couple of times, and I wait for him to process the news.
“Why do you call him Nate? It sounds like you guys are old pals,” he says, his eyes turning darker as they harden.
I shrug. “Because he hates it.”
Max shakes his head, trying to fight a grin and grabs my bag. “It will all work out. What is it your dad says? Let it be?”
“Actually he generally says it and then breaks into song, but yes, let it be,” I say with a laugh, watching as the rest of the tension seems to roll away from him. He reaches a hand up and strokes the left side of my face with his thumb, looking at me with his beautiful blue eyes that I’m sure Mother Nature wishes she’d painted the skies with the color. I smile and grip his fingers in mine and bring his palm around to my lips.
