Unperfect

by Susie Tate

  I took a one of the kitchen stools opposite him and sat down. Max sliced a massive sandwich in half, shoved it on a plate and then slapped it in front of me. I looked from the sandwich back to Max, who was now assembling another monstrosity for himself. I tentatively lifted one of the massive slices of crusty bread to peer at the hunk of beef, mass of melted cheese and very token leaf of salad balancing on top of it all. A cup of tea was pushed my way as well.

  “Thanks,” I muttered. How was I going to eat this thing? I looked and watched Max shove his own equally massive sandwich into his mouth, taking a huge bite out of it. It was like watching a lion sink its teeth into a gazelle.

  “Eat up, love.”

  My head jerked up at yet another casual endearment. Max paused chewing to give me a small closed-mouthed smile. Warmth spread out from my chest through to my fingers. Nate had always called me ‘darling’. I’d thought it was dead posh when I started seeing him. It wasn’t until much later that I realised how cold, empty and possessive that word really was. Towards the end, calling me darling had almost seemed like a threat. By contrast ‘love’ in Max’s warm, Yorkshire lilt was the complete opposite. I blinked rapidly and cleared my throat.

  “Your hair … ” Max said out of nowhere as I tried to take a bite out of the sandwich, only managing and small corner of the bread. He shuffled on his feet and rubbed the back of his neck before he spoke again, his voice a little gruff. “It looks right nice, it does.”

  “Oh.” I fingered the short strands at my nape. After all the drama it ended up more of a layered bob than anything. I gave Max a small smile. “Thanks.”

  With the help of a steak knife I managed to dissect the rest of the sandwich whilst Max emptied the dishwasher, glancing back at me every so often like some kind of food police.

  “So, I’ll see you later,” I said after I’d finished as much of the sandwich as I could and put the rest in the fridge under Max’s disapproving glare and muttered comments of “not enough to keep a mouse alive”. I started edging towards the door. This had been my pattern since I’d moved in. I didn’t want to crowd Max and Teddy so I’d made myself scarce as much as possible.

  “Yer can stay,” Max blurted out. It sounded more like a command than a suggestion. My feet stalled. “I’ve got Netflix.” He pointed to the large comfy sofa and the widescreen telly it was pointed at. “You don’t have to hide in yer room.”

  “I’m not hiding.”

  “Right.” Max drew out the word as he made his way to the sofa and flopped down on it, his t-shirt pulling tight across his expansive, muscular chest.

  “I’m not.”

  Max flipped open his laptop and started typing. I was still paused at the bottom of the stairs, debating whether or not to scamper up to my room and hide – just like he was accusing me of doing. “If you’re not too busy standing there confusing my dog, you could come and help me with this chuffing 3D programme for the museum design – I can’t make head nor tail of it.” I gave the stairs a fleeting look and then my eyes flicked back to Max who was staring at me with one eyebrow raised. “Or I could just continue to press buttons randomly until something-”

  “Stop!” I flew across the room and skirted to a halt next to where he was sitting. “I spent ages getting that programme up and running.” Without thinking I sat down next to Max, making a grab for his laptop. My arm brushed against his and I felt heat hit my face. Once I had control of the computer I scooted a foot away. It took me a few minutes to put right what he had blundered about doing. He had to lean into me as I explained how to use the programme properly. I could smell his crisp, masculine scent all around me. It was almost overwhelming.

  “Thanks, Number Five,” he said after we’d finished the piece of work he needed to alter. I nodded and was about to scurry off when I paused. Teddy still hadn’t come home, and I needed to take the opportunity to talk to Max without him here.

  “Is everything alright with you and Teddy? I mean … you didn’t fall out over what happened with me did you? I know I added a lot of tension and–”

  “Mia,” Max interrupted, turning towards me but not in a sudden movement. He did everything slowly, gauging my reaction, giving me time to move away or flinch. I felt a lump in my throat that he was making that sort of effort for me, checking himself when I knew his normal spontaneous movements were anything but slow. “Teddy’s been acting like a shit since his mum left. It has nothing to do with you. I … he’s …” he trailed off and then shrugged. “Listen, if anything, having you here has helped bring the situation to a head. At least now Ted’s admitted how he’s feeling. I know now that he’s worried I won’t give a toss about him anymore. His mum … she …” Max trailed off and then sighed. “She wanted to take Ted to London with her when she left, but he decided he’d rather knock around here. All his mates and his school are down here after all. He’s not really into big cities.”

  “And she just left him?”

  “She wanted out of this kind of life. We moved the company down here five years ago and Rebecca never adjusted to living ‘in the sticks’ as she called it with ‘the backwater weirdos’. I think the reality of life with a boring northern bastad like me who’s not actually on the telly and whose idea of a night out is a pint down the pub wasn’t enough for her. Not her cup of tea. City girl through and through. I’d been with her for eight years, since Teddy was nine. She did our PR for the company at the time. She was a force to be reckoned with,” Max went on, and for some reason I felt a pang of jealousy.

  “Sorted out the company publicity wise. Sorted me out. Navigated all the bullshit for me – God she lived for the bullshit. Could work a room like nothing you’ve ever seen. Glamorous, urban, nothing like me at all. Shocked t’shit out of me that she wanted to give us a go. Then I met this skinny little nine-year-old boy she had in tow and that was it. They moved in within three months. Ted’s father’s never been involved, and Ted and I – we used to be right close. I was the one that got him into Taekwondo. We went fishing together. I coached his kids’ rugby club. He used to look at me like … like I had all the answers, like I was a superhero – totally infallible. After a couple of years he started calling me dad.” He shook his head. “Now he looks at me like I’m just some twat he has to live with and only barely tolerates.”

  “Oh, Max,” I said, the anguish in his voice when he spoke about Teddy, a boy he wasn’t even related to but one that he obviously cared about like a son, was heartbreaking. “I’m so sorry. He’ll come around.”

  “Christ, listen to me – a right Moaning Myrtle.” He broke into a smile. “You’ve got enough of your own stuff going on. You don’t need t’be listening to my family drama.”

  His smile, together with the green his eyes, short circuited my brain for a moment. He was so handsome. It felt like I was being drawn into him, as if my body couldn’t help but move closer. Without realising I’d turned fully to face him and our faces were inches apart. Embarrassed I cleared my throat and broke eye contact to glance down at my lap. “Uh …” I started to say, my voice coming out a little higher than it should. I cleared my throat again. “No, no it’s nice to think about someone else’s problems for once. And … well, it’s nice to know that you’ve got your own shit going on. It gets tiring being the only fuck-up in the room. And I love that you just referenced Harry Potter by the way.”

  He laughed and that sound went right through me down to my toes. Relaxed and laughing, Max was almost too much charisma to handle.

  “I read all of them with Ted. Thought it was a load of cobblers when I started, but I was a right Potterhead by the last book.”

  “I’m sure Teddy knows you care about him. He probably just –”

  “He misses his mum. Not ideal being stuck with a crusty old bugger like me.”

  “You’re not a crusty old bugger. He’s lucky to have you.”

  Max shrugged. “His schoolwork’s stressing him out as well – the bastad’s smart. But he’s finding his computer scien
ce A level harder than he thought. He keeps swearing at the screen. I thought he was going to throw his MacBook across the kitchen yesterday.”

  “I could help him,” I blurted out then bit my lip.

  “You would do that?”

  “Sure.”

  “That would be great. I know he’s got the potential, but his self confidence is … he just has to …”

  “… believe in himself,” I finished his sentence and his eyebrows went up.

  “Exactly,” he said, his voice firm as he stared at me with a renewed intensity.

  Max turned his hand and closed his fingers around mine, giving them a light squeeze. And for some reason it didn’t feel intrusive. It felt … right. It was like I knew Max down to his soul. Knew that he would never hurt me. Which was bizarre – I’d only known him a few weeks and he wasn’t the most outwardly gentle man. But then again, I’d take his gruff, abrasive, brutally honest way, over charming and disingenuous – I’d had enough of that to last a lifetime. That crackle of tension buzzed between us again. Max leaned forward, his eyes taking on a slightly glazed look. Our lips were a hair’s breadth apart and I could feel his breath on my mouth when the front door crashed open.

  “Whoa!” Yaz said, dropping her bags to cover her eyes with one hand then searching blindly with the other to shut the door. “I do not need to see my brother doing the dirty on the sofa, thank you very much.”

  At Yaz’s explosive entry I sprang back from Max until I was practically sitting on the arm of the sofa. Max broke eye contact with me reluctantly to level his sister with an exasperated look.

  “It’s okay,” she said, not taking her hand down from her eyes as she stumbled through to the kitchen area to dump her keys and purse. “Teddy’s staying with a mate overnight. Don’t mind me. Continue with the dodgy sofa action. Don’t let me throw off any of your energies at this crucial stage.”

  “Yaz,” Max snapped. “Stop being a drama queen, shove some of those bloody crystals off the spare chair and watch some telly.’

  Yaz gingerly took her hand down from her eyes both of which were scrunched up closed. She opened one eye then the other, baring her teeth in an eek face as if anticipating the immediate incineration of her eyeballs. You could have poached an egg on my face by this stage.

  Max glanced at me and frowned. “You’re embarrassing Mia,” he told her as if this was akin to drowning small puppies for kicks. Yaz looked at my red face and gave me a smile.

  “Sorry, hun. You know I love you but I’m not sure I can survive seeing you and my big bro Netflix and chilling. I’m not surprised you’re finding your mojo though – that crystal you’re holding is an orange carnelian.”

  “Er … this?” I lifted the stone I’d been fiddling with for the last hour.

  “Yeah, orange carnelians recharge the energy of the sacral chakra, enhancing sexuality and restoring vitality to the female organs.”

  I blinked in horror at the orange crystal I’d been innocently holding and then placed it on the side table next to the sofa as if it were an unexploded bomb.

  “Yaz, why do I have a stone for recharging vaginas in my house?” Max asked, which I thought was a reasonable question.

  “I put that there six months ago. Figured that if you ever did get around to bringing an actual lady home again I wanted her vagina to be super-powered. I’ve got your back, brother mine.” Yaz flopped down into the spare chair. “I’m sure your foof is in tiptop health, Mia, but it never hurts to get a little extra help from the universe. Now, what are we watching?”

  “Yaz, stop putting sex stones in my house – it’s weird. And I asked you to stop embarrassing Mia.”

  “What do you mean?” she said, lifting her mass of wavy hair up off her neck and holding it on the top of her head. “How is discussing Mia’s foof embarrassing her?”

  “It’s fine,” I put in, willing the heat to leave my cheeks. “At least now I know not to handle the crystals without protective clothing. I’m not sure my sacral chakra would appreciate any revitalising at the moment.”

  “Everyone’s sacral chakra needs a good recharge,” Yaz told me, snatching up the remote and proceeding to flick through Netflix. She put on a documentary about veganism, telling Max to suck it up. He muttered ‘my bloody house’ and ‘bossy little shit’ under his breath but, as I was coming to expect from Max, he gave in to his little sister. Max got up halfway through and retrieved more food from the kitchen (this included pork scratchings and earned an eye roll from Yaz). The man was obsessed with me eating. As I settled back into the sofa, Rodger jumped up and lay on my feet with his head in my lap. More muttering from Max including ‘untrained bastad’, but he moved closer so he could stroke Rodger and scratch behind his ears. It was becoming more and more clear that Max was just a big softie.

  I let the easy banter between the siblings and the warmth of the dog on my legs wash over me. My eyelids started to get heavy as Arnie came on the screen talking about how many eggs he used to eat. I sank further into the cushions, feeling safe for the first time in months.

  *****

  I felt gentle fingers tuck my hair behind my ear, and blinked my eyes open. The telly was off and the lights dimmed in the room. Max was hovering over me, but instead of the instinctive fear I would have expected I felt weirdly reassured.

  “Hey,” he rumbled. “Sorry, love, but it’s late and I’ve got to take this one out.” Rodger was still lying on my legs, his head resting next to my stomach.

  “Whoa,” I breathed, feeling a head rush as I sat up. “How long was I asleep?”

  “Yaz has buggered off, thank God. You’re lucky – she made me watch another bloody programme about bean eaters. Painful.”

  I smiled and rubbed my eyes. Max was trying to pull Rodger off my legs – the dog gave a groan of protest and settled further into me. I snuggled into his neck for a moment then pulled back to plunge both hands into the fur behind his ears and lift up his huge head.

  “Come on, gorgeous,” I said to his face. “We can’t lie here all night.” Rodger responded by licking from my chin to my forehead with his huge tongue. I pulled back, giggling and wiping my cheek. My laughter cut off as I caught Max’s eye. He was staring at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher. It was soft and hard at the same time, and for some reason it made my stomach hollow out and that warm feeling spread from my chest. He broke eye contact to pull Rodger off me. The dog gave another grunt of protest before complying. Once my legs were free I planted them on the carpet and pushed up to standing. Max still hadn’t moved from his position in front of me. We were standing nearly toe to toe. He searched my face, that soft look intensifying.

  “You’re right pretty, mind,” he whispered, then blinked as if he hadn’t meant to speak out loud. He cleared his throat, two flags of colour appearing high on his cheekbones. I was frozen in place, staring up at his beautiful face. The air around us crackled with that tension and energy from before. I was both equal parts terrified and exhilarated. His hand reached up to brush a lock of my hair behind my ear with a feather-light touch. A trail of fire was left in its wake as though he’d left a mark there. Rodger, not happy to be ignored, chose that moment to give a soft woof and nudge Max’s leg.

  “Christ, sorry. I shouldn’t’ve …” He snatched his hand away and shoved it into his pocket, breaking the spell between us as he took a small step back. I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I had been holding and took my own step back, only to come up against the sofa. I teetered for a moment and Max’s large hand grabbed mine to steady me – the warmth shooting up my arm like a bolt of electricity. He looked down at our hands for a moment, blinked, then let me go. The loss of his heat made me feel strangely alone.

  “Okay,” I said hoping my falsely bright tone would cover the slight tremor in my voice. “Thanks for all the food. In future maybe remember I’m not a six-foot-two teenage boy as far as calorie requirement goes.”

  “No, you’re not,” he said, his voice dropping lower as his
gaze fell to my mouth. That bolt of awareness shot through me again and I took a sharp breath in.

  “Anywho.”

  Yes, I said ‘anywho’. Like a weirdo. Could I make the situation any more awkward? “I’ll just …” I lifted my arm and pointed my thumb back to the stairs.

  “Night, Mia.”

  I paused in my backward scuttle and looked over at Max. He’d turned away to take Rodge to the backdoor. Taking a deep breath and squaring my shoulders I made my way back to him.

  “Max,” I called when I was only a foot away. He turned and fixed that assessing green gaze on me again. “I really am grateful to you for letting me stay here.” I didn’t bother trying to offer rent again. We’d been over that particular conversation too many times. Apparently, as I had become ill in Max’s building, he was liable to pay for my recovery, despite the fact that, one – I shouldn’t even have been sleeping in his building in the first place and, two – I wouldn’t dream of suing him or have a leg to stand on if I did.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, when he opened them again his expression was almost pained. “Please don’t thank me again. It’s nothing. Honestly.”

  “It’s not nothing to me,” I whispered. Before he could answer I fled up the stairs.

  Chapter 21

  Let the poor girl go home

  Mia

  “What am I doing?” I muttered under my breath as I approached the beach. My steps slowed to a crawl when I saw the large group of mostly men running at each other and chucking a rugby ball between them. Yaz was the first to notice I’d stalled. She spun on her flip flop (it was the first time the flip flops had made sense to me) and grabbed my hand.

  “You look like we’re dragging you off to be a human sacrifice,” she said, giving my hand a firm tug and pulling me forward in her wake. “It’s just rugby!”

  “Rugby is one of the most dangerous sports you can play,” I told her, coming to a halt again. “I googled it. You guys are mad.”