Blind (Senses Series Book 1)

by Xavier Neal

  “That explains the change in mood.”

  Annoyed I shove my phone back in my pocket. “There was no change of mood.”

  “There totally was.” Luke follows suit and gets in.

  There really wasn’t. You didn’t see anything.

  After he starts the car and takes off he begins to poke at the subject again. “So is that what’s got you moping around the house like the Melancholy Green Giant? You’ve missed Maxx?”

  “I haven’t been moping.”

  “But you’ve missed Maxx?”

  Not a word.

  “Just playing video games with her.”

  “Right.” Luke makes that fucking face again that means he knows I’m full of shit.

  Of course I’m full of shit, but no one needs to know that but me. And you I guess. I’m not admitting that there’s a nerd sized hole in my chest that only one girl with black box frame glasses who rocks a “Choose Your Weapon” shirt with dice on the front of it can fill. Hell, I can barely admit the girl is the girl to myself. That is if guys like me got the girl. But we don’t. Fact of life. Write it down.

  As we pull into the driveway I notice that Maxx’s car is pulled in behind Erin’s. I grind my teeth to prevent myself from smiling. Getting out, I follow Luke to the front door faintly listening to him discuss the idea of being a paramedic instead of a nurse.

  By now you’ve probably guessed it. That everyone in the house possesses something I don’t. A future. The question of what to do with the rest of your life. You probably have it all figured out huh? At least some clue of what you want in a career? But me? I never thought I’d make it as far as I have. And just so we’re clear, I’m not stupid enough to think I actually get more than a couple more years if I’m lucky. I’ve got a dangerous hobby because I know the deal with Kellar men. We’re cursed. Actually cursed. The only guarantee we get in our lives is that we die young.

  “Do you really wanna see that kind of shit?” My question is followed by me dropping my bag by the door as I toe off my shoes. “I know you see some shit at the hospital, but that’s like a whole other breed of scary.”

  “Maybe.” Luke gives me a slight shoulder shrug and goes to greet his sister who is putting the finishing touches on the plates she’s filled up.

  My eyes dart around looking for Maxx. I know she’s here. I saw her car. The table is set, which means she made it home in time to help out, but isn’t here now. As I prepare to ask where she is, I hear footsteps coming across the wood floor. At that moment her face lights up and she takes off full speed at me. Upon impact my arms fly around her waist and she stands on her tiptoes to wrap hers around my neck. That’s what happens when there’s almost a foot of difference in height. Without effort my eyes shut and I grip tighter.

  God I’ve missed this girl. Shit. Don’t repeat that.

  “Maximus,” I say, the excitement in my voice hard to hide.

  She pulls away and playfully punches me in the shoulder. “Miss me?”

  “Eh.” My attitude is nonchalant as I fold my arms across my chest.

  Not. A. Word.

  Luke scoffs in the background as he sits at the table while Erin carries plates over.

  See? I don’t need you to say anything. I have that asshole.

  The two of us join them, sitting side by side like we always have. Once we’re seated in the wooden chairs, I stretch my arm around the back of hers and flash her a smile.

  Dinner conversation proceeds and I find myself only half listening. In fact, if it were up to me we would’ve skipped dinner and went straight up stairs to start on our pre Fight Night ritual of video games and bowls of chocolate vanilla swirled ice cream. The tradition started the first time I stepped into any kind of ring. She knew I had been nervous and knew my two favorite things would calm me down.

  You don’t get it. Maxx is really good about knowing what I need even when I don’t seem too. She always has been. You know what? I gotta stop talking to you. You’re making me get all mushy and shit.

  “So it’s like a date?” Luke’s question pulls me out of the haze.

  “Kind of,” Maxx answers wiping her mouth, her plate half empty. “We’re meeting with his brother, his brother’s fiancée, and their friends. He said our second date would be just us.”

  “Slick.” Luke nods in approval.

  “Wait. What?” I drop my arm and let my hands fall into my lap. “You have a date? When? With who?”

  “So you weren’t listening, like at all?” Erin lifts her glass of wine and rolls her eyes. I give her a quick flash of my middle finger.

  “Tony.”

  “Who?”

  With a soft sigh she answers, “The tech guy Frank hired.”

  Nerd recognizes nerd.

  “But what about me?”

  “What about you?” The words come out of her mouth so slowly I realize what she’s asking. What she wants. She wants me to tell her not to go. To blow him off because for me she will. She wants me to fight for the one thing I refuse to fight for.

  Shit. Why didn’t you warn me not to react that way? Okay honestly, I didn’t need a warning, I usually play shit off much better than that. I can fix this. No problem.

  Clearing my throat I relax my shoulders the best I can, cocky Unbreakable attitude back on my face. The one I rarely use on her. “I mean it’s pre Fight Night. Just wondering if you’ll be home in time for the tradition. Unbreakable needs his tradition.”

  She hates when I refer to myself that way.

  “Ah.” Her eyes fall away and she fiddles with her water glass. Disgust and sadness alike on her face.

  I hate being responsible for that look.

  Without looking up she answers. “Of course I’ll be back in time for that. I’m always there for you…” Her gaze shifts up to Erin. “I’m gonna go shower real quick.”

  Erin sighs and leans back in her chair, wine glass dangling from her fingertips. “Yeah. Just meet me in my room when you’re done.”

  Maxx reaches to take her plate, when I grab her arm. “Don’t worry about it. I gotchu.”

  She puffs her chest out like she wants to respond but stops. Instead she moves out of my grasp and mumbles, “Thanks.”

  I watch as she takes off up the stairs and straight for the bathroom she shares with Luke. Resting my elbows on the table, I fold my hands together and prop them under my chin. I have to do something to keep my mind off of her tonight otherwise I will put a hole in the fucking wall.

  Before you ask again the answer is still no. No. I can’t have her. But just because I can’t, doesn’t mean I don’t want her. Or that I want some fuck whit tasting those lips that I’m desperate for on my cock. Doesn’t mean I want to share that part of Maxx that she saves for me because she doesn’t have a boyfriend to fill in that gap. I damn sure don’t want to let my fucking mind wander about it. I don’t need that kinda shit tonight. Not before Fight Night. Not with the prize value that high. I know exactly what I need. Yeah. It’s exactly what you’re thinking. And I know just who to call to get it.

  Chapter 8

  Maxx

  Thankfully putting thoughts of Logan out of my mind is much easier once I’ve had a glass of dessert wine. I’m not much of a drinker. I probably go out for one twice a year on average. The taste of alcohol is nothing like the taste of a cupcake or something that actually is worth all the calories.

  And if you drink, this is nothing against you. Imagine the way you feel after a hard day and the joy a glass of cold wine brings you. Yeah. I get that feeling too. From frosting.

  Besides Logan doesn’t drink and since so much of my free time is spent with him it’s always made it easy to avoid.

  Please save all Logan related questions until I’m at least on glass three.

  As I pull my seco
nd glass to my lips I’m clearly relaxed, and this group of conservative college graduates doesn’t seem to bother me as much as I would’ve figured. Nor does the fact that I am leaning into Tony’s welcoming embrace, my back is against his hard chest in the booth seat we are sharing.

  Yes, Tony’s got a smaller frame than Logan, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be comfy. Didn’t I already tell you not to bring him up? Shame on you.

  The conversation finally shifts away from their wedding talk which, for the record, was heavily painful.

  Look, it’s not that I am anti marriage or anything. Quite the opposite in fact. I want that someday. Maybe not the whole walk down the aisle thing, or big fluffy dress, but the stability of relying on a loved one. Before my mother decided that it was easier to be in Europe with Brodrequ, her half her age, half her English skills boyfriend, than to actually deal with the death of my father, she was in a great marriage. My parents were actually happy for awhile. I don’t just mean when everyone’s watching kind of happy. I mean behind closed doors screw like rabbits happy. Yeah, children usually aren’t deaf any more than walls in your home are sound proof. If only the fucking doctors hadn’t screwed up his medication. They’d still have that. And I wouldn’t be the dreamy eyed orphan in love with the wayward whose greatest fear is a commitment. Didn’t I already tell you not to bring up Logan? You’re being a bad listener.

  “So what is it you do for a living?” His brother, Michael, not to be shortened to Mike because his fiancée thinks that’s juvenile, asks.

  Yeah. She’s that kind of woman.

  “I’m the Events Coordinator at TKO.” I place my glass back on the table. “It’s a popular bar that also hosts amateur fights.”

  “Amateur fights?” Clarissa, his fiancée, gets on the edge of her seat, her hand stroking the very expensive pearl necklace around her throat. “Like the underground ones at colleges?”

  “A little more legal than those, but yeah. You get it. It’s my job to come up with the theme at the bar, coordinate the drinks, work with the stylist to take care of the bartenders and Ring Side Girls, choose decorations, and things like that for their big prize fights. I mean they have minor ones in between, but there are two major events every month and it’s my job to blow those out of the water.” For the first time ever, I’m proud of what I do. I don’t have the shitty ‘just a waitress’ answer anymore. I’m finally headed towards my dream career.

  How amazing is that?

  “How exciting!” Clarissa bites on her bottom lip as her friends giggle in agreement. “So does that mean you get to meet the fighters? Are they really as hot as people say they are?”

  I lick my lips slowly as the picture of Logan shirtless with sweat dripping down his perfect abs comes to mind. A small heat grows between my legs and I cross them. Let it go Maxx. Just let it fucking go. “I have met some of the fighters, yes. One of my best friends is actually undefeated.”

  “You’re friends with an underground fighter?” her friend, with the red hair whose name I think rhymes with her boyfriend’s which is Larry, asks.

  I didn’t see the need in actually remembering her name, but the fact that their names rhyme had me laughing on the inside for a bit. What can I say? I’m a simple creature when I’m intoxicated.

  “Believe it or not fighters need friends too.” The harsh realization that that’s all Logan will ever need from me causes me to pick my wine glass up and take a long sip.

  I hate him.

  At that point, Tony uses his thumb to gently stroke the side of my shoulder. The feathery light touch isn’t sexual but it’s comforting. I shoot him a smile and he gives me a wink.

  “So if you’re surrounded by sweaty MMA guys all the time, what are you doing slumming it with my prep school choir boy of a brother?” Michael pokes fun at Tony who rolls his eyes.

  “Thanks bro.”

  “Any time small fry.” He lifts his frosted beer mug and takes a drink. Sure Tony is smaller than Michael, but Michael’s really not that much bigger. Maybe a size in build and an inch in height. They do have many of the same features like the roundness of their faces and the way they wrinkle their foreheads. Their noses that really look too small for their faces. At first glance you can tell they’re related.

  At least I could. You’re pretty sharp, so you probably could too.

  “Sometimes it’s the quiet ones who really have all the fun.” My sassy answer causes Michael to choke on his beer while the other guys at the table nod in approval and their female counterparts look astonished that I would say something like that out loud.

  Yup. Probably wouldn’t have said that without the help of this red liquid courage.

  “On that note, we’ve got to get going,” Tony insists, dropping a bill onto the table to cover my two drinks, his one, and a very nice tip.

  “So soon?” Michael looks confused but Clarissa looks relieved. I don’t think she could handle another outburst from me at her prim and proper table.

  Which is fine with me, really. Do I look like a prim and proper fan to you?

  “Tomorrow’s Fight Night, and we’ve got a full day ahead.” Tony explains. While that’s true, there’s something he’s keeping between us. He promised he’d get me home by ten so that I could conduct pre Fight Night rituals with Logan.

  Who, for the record, is an asshole. And you should know that by now. You’ve had the pleasure of meeting him.

  “Thank you for having me.” I stand and Erin’s navy blue strapless dress she convinced me to borrow rides up yet again. Every time I stand it shoots up like it’s a rocket and my ass is the moon.

  If I had more of my own nice clothes it wouldn’t be necessary to borrow hers. Borrow seems to be the wrong word. Gave me seems better. She doesn’t even wear it any more. Apparently it’s too big for her. Maybe now that I’ve got more of a business job I should get nicer clothes, but that would mean spending less time in my yoga pants and Mario Brothers t-shirts. That sounds lame, right?

  “Our pleasure,” Michael responds. “Hopefully we’ll see you again soon.”

  I nod as Tony slips a hand on the small of my back to escort me towards the door mumbling in my ear. “Hopefully not too soon.”

  With a snicker I watch as his free hand loosens his tie once we are just steps away from his BMW, which is the silver version of Luke’s.

  When Luke’s and Erin’s parents were alive, they had money. And when they died, well, we all found out just how much money they really had.

  “Is it just me or does the air out here seem considerably less thick?” Tony grumbles. I snicker again and he opens my car door for me, still shaking his head. “I think I’ve got a hunk of snob stuck in my throat.”

  After he shuts the door, I buckle my seat belt as he climbs in. “They weren’t that bad.”

  “You’re just being polite.”

  “Well no shit.”

  Tony chuckles, buckles up, starts the car, and takes off. “That’s one thing I love about you.”

  “My inability to censor myself?”

  “I was gonna go with your attitude, but that too.”

  I smirk and pull my phone from my purse to see if I’ve missed any texts. And I haven’t. No surprise there.

  Erin has a ‘one text to see if you’re alive’ on a date rule. Luke hardly texts because he thinks they’re for emergencies only and Logan…well between the constant mixed signals I’m getting I’d be surprised if he remembers that cell phones can be used for basic talking aside from sexting. And trust me. He knows how to sext with the best of them. Sometimes I wish I didn’t know the password on his phone.

  Tony yanks me out of my thoughts. “Thanks again for coming with me.”

  “No biggie.”

  “I promise our next date will be just the two of us, and all the other people in the restaurant of
course. Your choice.”

  The fact that we’ve already got a second date lined up should make me nervous. I like Tony well enough, but part of me feels bad because I know he’s not what I really want.

  Though I guess there are worse people to have as backup.

  “That is if you still wanna go out with me. I completely get it if my asshole of a brother made you think twice.”

  My head rolls over to face him. “Nah. I don’t scare that easy.”

  “Good. Because I like you.” He folds his fingers with mine before bringing my hand up for a kiss on the back of it.

  And that’s all he says for the rest of the car ride. Wordless jazz tunes flow around us and I find myself actually happy.

  This is what dating is supposed to be like isn’t it? This is what relationships are supposed to start off as. Simple. Sweet. Easy. If only I could just put Logan into a boundary box of friendship. And get him to fucking stay there.

  I steal a glance at Tony who hasn’t stopped smiling since we left his brother. I’m the reason for the goofy smirk. Me.

  You know what? It’s official. From this point forward I’m back to being done with pining over Logan. It only leads to mood swings and late night masturbating.

  Tony pulls up in front of the house and I immediately notice that Logan’s car is missing. I fight the natural instinct to be upset. Come on Maxx! You just vowed to leave him in the friend zone. Leave him there! He gets out and walks me towards our cute red painted front door, which was Erin’s doing. She insisted we’re a new kind of family and we needed a new kind of door in this cookie cutter neighborhood.

  “Despite my brother, his bitchy fiancée, and his douche style friends, I had a really great time with you Maxx.” Tony slides his hands in his pockets and takes a long breath.

  “Me too.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow at work? Maybe when we get some spare time we can figure out where we wanna go on that next date?”

  “I’d like that.”

  He lets out a soft hum and leans forward to kiss me on the cheek. The gentlemanly way.