Текст книги "Becoming His"
Автор книги: Mariah Dietz
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 24 страниц)
“God, you’re perfect.” He presses a soft kiss to my forehead before he lifts me up and carries me to the bed where we wrap around each other in a tight tangle of limbs.
A few hours later I wake up to find Max pacing across the wooden floors of his bedroom. A nervous panic rolls up my spine. He looks troubled and frustrated. I debate whether I should let him know I’m awake, or pretend that I’m asleep as fear resonates within me.
Before I can decide, his eyes sweep over to me and he stops, mid step. I slowly sit up, letting the sheet fall, revealing my black tank top. “What’s wrong?” I ask quietly as my heart thrums.
“Everything,” Max responds, rubbing a hand down his face.
Fear grips me as rejection and anger sear through my veins. Thoughts and realizations form faster than I can process or stop them.
I feel his eyes on me as I close the bathroom door and swiftly dress. My brain warns me of a silent countdown taking place, alerting me that I need to get out of here before the emotions I vigilantly work to keep suppressed burst. I wrench the door open, holding my bag, and throw my clutch inside before striding to the bedroom door without looking back at Max.
I’m nearly down the entire flight of stairs before he catches up to me.
“What are you doing?” he asks, grabbing my arm. I don’t turn to look at him as I jerk my arm free and make my way to Jameson’s room. I scrape my fist against the door.
“Ace, what the hell?” Max demands, reaching for my arm again. Before he can touch me I move further to the side and bang against the door with more force.
Jameson opens the door, his eyes half closed with sleep. He runs a hand over his messy blond hair, looking confused.
“Is Kendall in there?”
“Ace?” I hear her voice filled with panic. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“I just need my keys.”
“I’ll come with you,” she says, throwing back the covers.
“No, stay. I need to think,” I reply, mostly to myself. Kendall nods, looking reluctant, and I move my focus to her hands as she fishes through her purse.
I tightly grip the keys as she gives them to me and turn back to the door where Jameson stands, looking completely dumbfounded. I make a wide berth around him and Max and head straight for the front door.
Another door opens behind me, and I hear Landon ask if everything’s okay. Tears pool in my eyes as I run the last few steps out of the house, barefoot. The fact that Max doesn’t follow me past Jameson’s bedroom door answers my fear. This was a mistake. We were a mistake.
The anger that had kept the tears at bay while inside the house quickly recedes to pain as the countdown continues to fall and tears stream down my face. Traces of dark eye makeup cover my fingers and the back of my hands as I swipe at the relentless tears.
I don’t even think. My brain is on autopilot, needing comfort and security. I’m already on the freeway, heading toward the only destination that can meet those needs. Home.
I silently make my way into the house and disarm the alarm, but Zeus isn’t about to let me go unnoticed. He lumbers down the stairs, barking before he even sees me. My voice is thick with tears as I call to him, trying to calm him down.
Dad flips on the lights, following closely behind Zeus, wearing his robe over a San Diego State T-shirt and matching sweatpants. When he sees me his concern is evident and my countdown hits zero. He wraps me in his arms and my shoulders heave as I grip his robe with both hands to keep myself upright. I bury my face in the soft polyester and feel him take my weight.
“David, what’s going on?” Mom asks, coming down the stairs. Neither of us responds as she rushes over and soothingly rubs my back.
“Ace, what happened, sweetheart? Did someone hurt you? Are you okay?”
I sniff and nod, not able to formulate words yet. Each time I try to speak, the words seem to get caught in my throat and I just cry harder.
After about twenty minutes of my mom bustling about, offering different remedies and trying to coax me to speak to her, Dad convinces her to go back to bed.
He holds me, allowing me to cry until my head throbs and my eyes burn. I feel exhausted, both physically and emotionally, as he wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his chest, shielding me as he leads me into the kitchen.
He reaches into the cabinet above the fridge and extracts an amber bottle and pours two fingers in a glass tumbler before retrieving a bottle of ibuprofen. Three pills fall into my palm and he hands me the glass. I don’t hesitate, swallowing it all in one toss and wincing at the burn of bourbon.
He fills my now empty cup up with water, and we wordlessly trudge up the stairs.
“Il sera bien ma belle fille,” Dad says quietly when we reach the top of the stairs. I want to acknowledge his words that everything will be okay, but I don’t. I can’t.
“Do you want me to stay with you? Or you can lie with mom?” I shake my head, needing some space. “Je t’aime mon, Ace,” he says quietly.
“I love you too, Dad,” I whisper. He hugs me close, placing a kiss in my hair before he watches me turn into my room.
I gather some clean pajamas and head to the bathroom where I turn the shower on and wait for it to get hot enough that the steam billows out. I strip out of my clothes, noticing a small trace of blood on my underwear, and kick them aside, making a new rivulet of tears to fall. I step in the tub, letting the hot water flow over me, joining my tears as I begin washing Max from my body.
The next day I wake up with a dull headache that feels worse than any hangover and find Zeus lying in front of my bed protectively and my mom holding a tray filled with food.
“Daddy thought some chocolate chip pancakes might sound good. I thought maybe some ice cream would be preferable,” she says with a weak smile, running a hand over my hair. I take in the stack of chocolate chip pancakes, cold and without syrup—the way I prefer them—along with a container of Ben and Jerry’s and a steaming cup of coffee. None of it appeals to me, but I rip off a small piece of pancake and swallow it to placate her.
“Max came by this morning. He said that there was a misunderstanding.” My heart races at the mention of his name, filling with hope until I recall he was already planning on coming home this weekend to get his motorcycle and is likely trying to clear the air between us since our mothers are best friends, and my sister is dating his best friend.
I shake my head and take a sip of coffee.
“You know, sometimes you have to listen to your heart and block out this,” my mom says, gently tapping my temple with a pink, perfectly manicured finger.
“I have to go to a meeting, but I’ll be back later this afternoon. If you need anything call me, sweetheart.” I nod and gently set the tray on the floor as she leaves.
I lay my head back down and close my eyes which feel weighted.
Raised voices echo from downstairs, waking me. I sit up to see Zeus stand from his spot beside my bed. His nails click on the stairs as he goes to investigate, and I strain my ears to listen.
“Dad, he needs to talk to her.” Kendall’s agitated voice is easy to make out.
“I don’t know what’s going on right now; but I do know that she came home in the middle of the night and …” He stops and I know he’s protecting my outburst from last night and feel eternally grateful. He starts again in a calmer voice. “I’ve never seen her like that, Kendall. If he’s the reason she’s hurting I don’t even want him in my house.”
“I know how this looks, and I’m pretty sure I am the reason she’s upset, but I need to fix it. She took something I said out of context, and I really need to see her. Please. If she tells me to go I’ll leave.”
My eyes grow from shock at hearing Max’s voice and anxiously wait for my dad’s response. I want to see Max, but I also dread the prospect.
My head falls to my pillows, my hair splaying as I internally fight with myself and the eternal war of heart versus head as I smother myself with another pillow so I can’t hear any more of their conversation.
When I wake up again my room is dark from the night. I blink a few times trying to rid the scratchiness from my eyes and turn over to see what time it is. A solid object covers my feet, and I expect to see Zeus. A gasp fills the silence as I jump, realizing it’s a person. I scramble backwards, nearly falling off the side of my bed, before realizing that it’s Max.
My legs instinctively fold against my chest. Although I’m fully dressed, I feel extremely vulnerable and exposed. My poor heart begins racing again as I feel the adrenaline course through my veins, my palms prickling with sweat as I wrap them around my legs.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Max says quietly, holding his hands out to me like I’m a wild animal, unsure of whether I’ll attack or run.
“What are you doing here, Max?” I try to sounds defensive, but my voice comes out strained.
“You left your phone, and your dad wouldn’t let me talk to you.”
I shake my head. “What are you doing here?” I repeat.
“Ace, last night was a mistake.”
“Yeah, I understood that message loud and clear,” I state coldly as my chest begins to ache and the familiar burn of tears returns.
“No, Ace, you aren’t understanding.” Max says. He reaches forward, touching my hand briefly before I rip it away and glare at him.
“Ace, please listen to me. I wanted last night to happen. Hell, I’ve wanted last night to happen for years, but it wasn’t supposed to happen like that! I felt so disappointed and frustrated with myself and with you because I’ve been thinking about that moment for so long. Planning out how to make every detail perfect, and last night wasn’t it. Nothing went like it was supposed to.”
Before I can stop it, a small part of me feels elation and hope surfacing, accompanied by pain at hearing disappointment and not supposed to. I move my eyes up to him, refusing to talk, not trusting myself or my emotions.
“This isn’t coming out right,” he says with a sigh. I watch his hand run over his hair a few times before wiping down the front of his face.
“Ace, I care about you, a lot,” he says, looking at me like this should offer me clarity. I tilt my head slightly, focusing on his words, as I try to listen with both my head and my heart. “I can’t stop fucking thinking about you.” Max’s eyes are wide as they search mine. “It’s not that us sleeping together was a mistake. You were perfect. I just wanted it to be perfect for you.”
Slowly, I start piecing the last twenty-four hours together with a new perspective.
“I didn’t want last night to happen like it did. I wanted it to be the most romantic night of your life. I wanted to have flowers and music and tell you how important you are to me.” I feel the vise wrapped around me slowly release. “Please say something,” Max whispers.
I push off the covers and crawl toward him, stopping when there’s only a few inches left between our bodies. “Last night was the single most romantic night of my life thus far because of what happened, Max. It was being with you that made last night special.” I hesitantly reach out and set my hand on his.
“I am head over heels for you, Max, but if you—”
Max grabs my face between his hands and before I’m able to finish my threat, He presses his lips to mine with a sense of need.
I kiss him back as the fear and heartbreak seep away with every second.
“You should go home. Come back tomorrow and kiss me like that once I’ve showered, dressed, and my hair doesn’t look like a rat’s nest,” I say, leaning my forehead against his shoulder, breathing in his warm scent.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are,” Max replies, moving his body and holding my face so that we’re face to face. “I just need to be with you right now. You scare the hell out of me when you run.”
I nod in understanding. Max has told me about his father leaving one night and never returning. I feel the same desire to be close to him. Max pulls me down so we’re lying with our faces mere inches apart.
“I’m sorry for my reaction. You were so perfect and amazing. I was just caught up in my anger. And then you ran, and I didn’t know what to do.”
“You look tired,” I whisper, stroking his unshaven face.
He nods and pulls me closer so my head rests on his shoulder. I wrap my arms around his chest and bury myself into him.
“You have to stop running from me,” Max whispers in my hair. “I’m not letting you go.” He squeezes me once more and warmth floods me.
Soon the sound of Max’s soft breaths and the even beats of his heart lull me into a peaceful sleep.
“Harper Jo! What is going on in here?” The piercing shrill of my mother’s voice breaks me from my peaceful dream and my head snaps up. She’s standing in my doorway with a shocked expression conveying disapproval. I feel Max’s leg move from between mine and recall the events from last night. My face flushes as she stares at me with her large blue eyes.
For some reason words jumble and collide in my mind, not allowing a coherent thought to string together. My dad rounds the corner, breathless, obviously rushing from Mom’s shrieks. His eyes are wide as he takes in the room. When his eyes fall to me, words are completely lost as I stare at him like a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar.
“It’s my fault. I’m very sorry. This was—” Max begins as I remain completely mute, making me feel even worse about things.
“A situation that needed to be resolved,” my dad finishes, surprising all of us. His eyes fall to me. “I expect you guys to keep visiting hours during the day going forward.”
I look from my dad to my mom and see shock flash across her face. It obviously isn’t the reaction that she was expecting either.
“David, she’s—”
“She’s nearly twenty, lives independently, and has a boyfriend that we like. We’re not making this into big deal, mon moitié.” My parents turn to look at one another, having one of their silent arguments for a brief moment before my mom turns her eyes to me.
“We love you. Both of you, but please, no more sleepovers while you’re here.”
“Sorry,” I finally reply.
“It won’t happen again,” Max adds adamantly.
“We’re heading out to meet the Prestons for brunch, and then we’ll be home. We’ll see you both for supper,” Mom says, not posing it as an invitation to Max as she runs a hand over her perfectly-styled hair. They leave after ensuring my bedroom door is as far open as it can go.
Max’s head falls to the pillows with a quiet train of curses as he covers his face with both hands. I feel dazed, shocked at how calm they were. After Jenny got pregnant at seventeen, my dad became overtly aware of all of our interactions with the opposite sex.
Suddenly I giggle. I giggle so hard I can hardly breathe.
“Your parents are going to hate me. This strikes you as funny?”
“If they hated you, you wouldn’t still be in here.”
“Then why are you laughing?”
“Do you remember asking if everyone would know when we … yeah, I’m pretty sure they’re all going to know.” This doesn’t seem to be nearly as amusing to Max. He shakes his head and looks up to the ceiling as more quiet curses leave him in a breath, making Kendall’s vulgarity seem childlike, which only serves in making me laugh harder.
Max leaves shortly after my giggle fit ends, kissing me several times before retreating to his own house for a few more hours of sleep and a shower.
I take my time getting dressed as I replay the events of this weekend again and feel myself blush, thinking back to Friday night. I slept with Max Miller.
A quiet squeal of delight rips through my throat, and my cheeks ache from the giant smile that I can’t stop. I pull on some clothes I find shoved in the back of a drawer and head to the backyard with a book and coffee.
“You know, you’d be super tan if you sat in the sun as often as you read.”
I look over as Kendall sits on the lounge chair beside me, looking nervous as she tucks a few strands of blond hair behind her ear.
Ignoring her comment, I set my book down and sit up. “Thanks for sneaking Max in.”
Her shoulders visibly sink with relief. “I love you, Ace, and I know I should have waited and talked to you first. It’s just … I’m really glad Max makes you so happy, and I didn’t want you to completely push him and the idea of him away without listening to him first.” She gently knocks her knee against mine, giving me a knowing look. “He was a freaking idiot to brood like that, but I think it’s only because he really is in deep for you. He left right after you did, still shirtless, and went to your apartment where he apparently pounded on the door like a crazed maniac for fifteen minutes before Abby let him in. Then he nearly got in a fight with Jesse to get into the apartment because he didn’t believe them when they said that you weren’t there.” My jaw drops and Kendall nods, pursing her lips slightly. “Yeah, he may need your help mending that relationship.” She nods, agreeing with her own assessment. “Then he came back to the house and started going crazy, worrying about if you were okay and where you’d be if you hadn’t gone home. In all honesty it’s not like he had a lot of options, but he did connect the dots pretty damn quick. He got dressed, grabbed some things, and took off at like four in the morning!”
“I’m sorry for involving you and Jameson.”
“Ace, I’m your sister. I want to be involved.” Kendall grips my fingers within hers. “Seriously, I never want you apologizing to me for involving me in things, especially if you need me. Anytime, I’m there. No questions asked. I love you, Ace, and for all the million times that you’ve been there for me, I’d like to be there for you once in a while.” I get up from my chair and perch on the edge of hers, hugging her tightly to me.
“I love you too.”
“So since the boys were up most of the night, I have a feeling they’re going to sleep most of the day, and Mom left a note in the kitchen asking you to make three batches of spaghetti sauce, so I’m guessing everyone is coming tonight.” I nod, glancing to see what time it is.
“Oh my gosh, did you hear?” Her back straightens and her eyes become bright.
“Hear what?” I ask.
“Paul’s coming tonight.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t know! Jenny was super vague about it all. She just mentioned that he’s coming. So I don’t know if they’re dating again or what?”
“I hope not,” I grumble.
“I know, right?”
“Who are you ladies shit talking?” I look up to see Jameson approaching us with one of his quick smiles. He places a kiss to Kendall’s temple before dropping into a chair beside us.
“We’re not shit talking.” Kendall growls, glaring at him. “Paul’s coming over for dinner tonight. We’re simply discussing how we hope Jenny doesn’t start dating him again.”
“He is kind of an asswipe,” Jameson admits, bouncing his knee because he never sits still for any length of time. “That’s tough though, I mean…” he looks at us cautiously “…isn’t it better that he’s around being Lilly’s dad and all?”
Kendall looks at me briefly and then shakes her head. “He’s not Lilly’s dad. Her dad’s never been in the picture. He was home from college and …” Kendall’s eyes grow as she moves her hands in a rolling motion, resembling patty cake, that makes me smirk. “Yeah, Lilly arrived nine months later. It was a mess. They had to go through paternal testing and then his parents threatened a custody battle. Thankfully that never became an issue, likely because their dickhead of a son never showed any interest in Lilly, but they ended up turning out pretty great. They’re good to Lilly and Jenny. But no, Paul is definitely not her dad. Thank God.”
The rich aroma of basil, thyme, and Italian sausage fills the house when the family begins arriving.
“Mmmm, spaghetti, my favorite!” Savannah breathes as she and Caulder come in, her hands travelling over her very pregnant belly. I smile in greeting as I stir the large pot filled with sauce.
Paul comes in behind them, not even bothering to knock with a cocky grin covering his face. I watch as Caulder silently sneers at him, obviously under strict instruction not to voice his apparent thoughts.
“Hi, family!” Paul greets jovially, earning him an eye roll from both Kendall and Caulder as we quietly murmur responses.
I look up to see my parents coming in the kitchen as the doorbell rings. I hear Sharon’s voice and grin with the knowledge that Max has arrived.
“So, Ace, did you miss me?” Paul leans on the kitchen bar.
I turn my attention away from the doorway leading to the foyer in the anticipation of seeing Max.
“Probably about as much as someone misses a hemorrhoid,” Kyle answers, clasping him on his shoulder before stepping in the kitchen to stand beside me.
Paul scoffs and the tension has me reeling to devise a plan to calm everyone down. Emily, Jade, and Lilly, who are always a pretty safe bet for a distraction, once again prove their weight in gold as they run through the kitchen squealing with excitement, dressed in princess attire with Zeus trailing behind them, a cape tied around his collar.
“Certainly can’t say we’re boring,” Kyle says quietly, leaning against the drawers and drinking his beer as I return to finishing dinner.
With everyone here tonight we have a full house of sixteen flooding the kitchen and entryway with bodies and voices. My eyes sift through them until they land on Max, and I feel my lips turn up in a smile as I release my ladle and make my way over to him. I wrap my arms around his chest, hugging him tightly.
We jump back in alarm as Mindi shrieks, and I follow her horrified expression and see bright flashes and smoke emitting from the microwave.
Kyle, still standing beside the oven, quickly reaches over and turns it off, ending the bright flashes. We all silently stare at it for a moment to see if it’s really done and a loud boom pops from the inside, making both my mom and Kendall scream.
“What’s in there?” my mom asks, looking directly at me.
“I didn’t do it,” I say, shaking my head.
“I spilled on some papers and thought it would dry them off …” Savannah says shyly.
I mash my lips together to try and keep the hysterics surfacing inside. Kendall doesn’t even attempt to stop it. She bursts out laughing.
“Microwaves should really amend their warning label to add that Bosse women aren’t allowed to operate them,” Dad says, shaking his head, causing a chorus of laughter.
“Ace’s was the worst. Do you remember how awful it smelled?” Jenny laughs, wiping a tear from her cheek.
“That’s right, the brownies!” Mom says, laughing even harder. “Ace put a metal tin in the microwave with brownie mix for twenty minutes,” she explains to the few that don’t already know the story. “I think it only made it to six or seven before it was on fire.”
“I thought you were good at science,” Jameson teases.
“I was like five and that was my one and only microwave incident. Personally, I think the time that Savannah used it to dry her socks was the worst smelling incident.”
“Babe, tell me you didn’t?” Caulder pleads, shaking his head with a laugh.
“No, the worst smelling incident was the fish that my queen of the kitchen accidentally added an extra zero to when attempting to thaw a whole fish. Never mind the fact that you should never thaw a fish in the microwave to begin with, but the fish exploded and it was by far the most disgusting and smelly microwave story yet.”
“Why do you keep getting new ones, Dad?” Jenny asks with a laugh.
“Because it hides all of the scorch marks on the wall.” This makes us laugh even harder.
We continue to distribute jokes as mom works to usher everyone into the dining room. My mom had made a big fuss a few years ago about how there wasn’t enough space to fit everyone at our dining room table, bringing on a large renovation that took months to expand the dining room to fit a table that is quite literally the size of a boat.
The table causes a myriad of jokes about how difficult it is to hear someone sitting further down the table. Kyle and my dad are the worst offenders of the ensuing jokes, which generally leads to Mom getting annoyed and her accent becoming thicker, like it always does when she’s upset, before she eventually threatens them with dishes or a food fight.
“I think we should really consider doing spaghetti once a month,” Kyle says, patting his flat abs after finishing his second helping of spaghetti. “Seriously, you could bottle this stuff, Ace. Forget worrying about declaring a major.”
I grin at him as the conversation flows easily with everyone laughing, still reminiscing on microwave stories that have plagued our family.
“So, Savannah, how much longer do you have? Your face is getting really round,” Paul says as my mouth closes around a bite of spaghetti.
I look up and see Paul touching his own cheeks. My eyes grow round with alarm, and I cringe in anticipation of the retaliation sure to come. Jameson pounds his chest and reaches for his water glass as he coughs. Caulder sits beside him, looking ready to kill Paul with his fork that he holds like a dagger.
With no surprise, Mindi’s the first to start yelling. Savannah and Kendall jump in nearly immediately. Poor Jenny looks absolutely mortified as she begins defending Savannah. My mom looks ready to stab her butter knife through his larynx as she takes deep breaths, trying to remain calm.
After a few moments of horrifying awkwardness for our guests as threats and insults are launched at Paul, Dad taps his water glass and stands up.
“Alright, well I think we can safely say that remark came out wrong. Very wrong,” he says, looking pointedly at Paul. “Savannah, sweetheart, you look amazing. Now, if we’re all done eating, there are some cheesecakes in the fridge that I’m depending on you all to help me eat.”
The mood has turned sour though, filled with tension as people begin carrying their dishes into the kitchen. “I won’t be offended if you want to go home. Hell, I’ll go with you,” I whisper. Max smiles and shakes his head as we make our way to the kitchen.
Sharon does excuse herself with the excuse that she has an early surgery. Mindi, Kyle, Savannah, and Caulder all pack up as well, not even bothering to make an excuse.
“Well, Paul, you certainly know how to clear a room,” Kendall remarks as she cuts into a cheesecake.
“So, Ace …” Paul begins, ignoring Kendall as he leans into the bar, staring at me.
“So, Paul …” I reply, digging through the silverware drawer to extract forks. “If you tell me I look fat, I’ll give Kendall permission to stab you with a fork,” I warn and swear I can see the corners of my dad’s lips go up as he walks to his den with my mom.
“No, you don’t look fat, not at all. In fact, don’t get me wrong, I mean you’re really well proportioned…” he pauses and I look up to see him staring at my chest “…but if you gained some weight, they’d probably grow.” Paul throws back the rest of the liquor in his glass and looks at me with a grin.
I feel Max’s body tense beside me so I take a step forward, angling myself so my body serves as a barrier, trapping him behind the island. At least temporarily.
“Do you think before you speak?” Kendall fires. “Jenny, it’s time for Paul to go home, come and say goodbye. He’s saying more creepy and awkward things!”
“I’m not. I’m just paying a compliment”
“Paul, can’t you be nice for five minutes?” Jenny asks, emerging from the den with Dad.
“Bye, Paul, drive safe,” Kendall says sarcastically.
“Well, he’s …” Jameson shakes his head, unable to describe him.
“A bastard,” Max finishes, clenching his jaw as he glares out the kitchen window, watching Paul drive away.
I’m slightly relieved Kyle and Caulder aren’t still here. If they had been things wouldn’t have ended nearly this calmly.
“Are you going to drive back to school tonight?” I ask, placing my hand on Max’s forearm.
He takes in a deep breath before turning his attention from the window to look at me. “Yeah, I need to go and grab a few things first and put them in the Jeep.” His hand rakes through his hair in an agitated fashion. “Do you mind saying goodbye to your parents for me?”
I nod and watch him disappear before going to say my goodbyes.
We meet outside fifteen minutes later, piling things in our cars.
“Babe, where are your shoes?” I look down at my bare feet and up to Max as he heads toward me, his motorcycle helmet tucked under an arm.
“At home,” I answer, taking a couple of steps toward him. “Where are you staying tonight?” I ask, stopping at the end of the driveway.
“Wherever you are,” he answers, crossing the remaining distance to me. “I’ll follow you.”
“Hey, get your asses moving,” Jameson yells. “By the way, I’m going to check out that new gym by the house. I need to get back in a routine.”
“Don’t count on me,” Max says, pulling me tighter to his chest.
“Drive safely,” I say, kissing the front of his shirt.
“You too, babe.” He places his hand gently under my chin and tilts my face up to meet his lips and softly kisses me.
I watch him as he walks back to his driveway where Jameson and Kendall are waiting in the Jeep.
Jameson drives like a maniac. I already know this, but he’s reaffirming it tonight as he swerves across the interstate, cutting off multiple lanes of traffic in one hazardous move. I grin, watching Kendall’s arms fly in the air, knowing it’s being followed by a rant.
For most of the journey I keep my eyes on Max as he stays directly behind me. Occasionally I catch the sight of his tattoos under the lights. You can’t see his face at all with his helmet, but a few women still honk or call out to him, and he acts completely oblivious to their attention.
When we arrive at my apartment Abby’s gone and nothing is written on our dry-erase board. I’ll need to reach out to her tomorrow and try to iron things out, or at least begin the process.
“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Max asks, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
I shrug, not having put much thought into it. “Why don’t we head to Balboa Park,” I suggest. Max smiles in agreement and we head to my room. Max begins rummaging through movies.
I grab a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt and go to the bathroom to wash my face and change. When I return, Max is stretched out on my bed, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white undershirt.
