“Lea, damn it—”
“—and a small kitchenette so it’s a nice place to hang out and socialize.”
“Fuck it,” he growled and then she was crowded into the empty room, the door shut behind her, and then Max’s body was pressing hers against the door. His breath was on her face and his lips inches from hers. His one hand on the door near her shoulder, his forearm braced above her head.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
“Max—”
“You gotta talk to me eventually—”
And that snapped her spine straight. “Oh? Do I? And why’s that?”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re still my girlfriend.”
“Well, that’s news to me.”
His voice lowered even further. “We never broke up.”
She leaned forward now, taking the offensive. “I’m not interested in being Max’s girlfriend only on campus. You met my dad. And then I go to visit you, and your family doesn’t even know who I am. Or wait, they did know me as the girl who got too attached and made you cookies—”
“You didn’t give me a chance—”
“There were plenty of chances there, Max. Plen-ty. But instead your dad treated me like a twelve-year-old and—”
“God, I know!” He yelled, pushing off of the door and tearing his hands through his hair. “I know. And if I could do that day all over again, I would.”
He linked his hands on top of his head and watched her. She had to look away before she was dragged back into the warm brown depths of his eyes. She didn’t want to let her heart be that open with him again. She couldn’t deal with that and him getting hurt . . .
“I want to,” he whispered.
She snapped back. “What?”
He lowered his hands and stepped forward hesitantly. “I want to do it over again. Don’t you see? I’m making changes. I’m trying to make it right. I told my dad. And my brothers. I told them everything. About changing my major. And coaching.” He licked his lips. “And you. I told them a whole lot about you.”
She could already feel herself weakening. “I can’t do this.”
He grabbed her hands and she didn’t protest. “You can’t do what?”
The words scraped into her throat like barbs as she croaked them out. “I can’t let myself be weak and trust you again.”
Max froze, his eyes flickering as he processed her words. She bit her lip and tugged her arms so he let go of her wrists. Closed his eyes slowly and looked down at his feet, hands on his hips, and then he raised his gaze to her. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing under his skin. “You think trusting someone else is a weakness?”
Her hackles went up. “Don’t act like you’re better than me. You didn’t trust me to meet your family—“
“No,” he cut her off. “That’s not why I didn’t want you to meet my family. At the time you were the one thing in my life that I truly wanted. I was facing a future I hated, and my dad was breathing down my neck and, fuck, you met him! You gotta understand why I was hesitant to take you to meet him. Because your dad is love and pie and laughter and mine is hard and cold and . . .” He paused and shook his head. “It had nothing to do with not trusting you. I do trust you. With my heart. Do you think that makes me weak?
He had her cornered in this conversation. “We’re talking about me, not you.”
“Right.” He nodded. “But that’s your logic. That I’m weak because I trust. You’re strong because you don’t trust.”
Well then her logic was flawed. Because nothing was stronger than the sight of Max grabbing the headboard, closing his eyes, and trusting her with his naked body and naked heart. “I don’t think you’re weak.”
His exhaled with relief and stepped closer, brushing his fingers over her bangs, eyes watching the hair fall back into place. Then he met her gaze. “I don’t think you’re weak either. I know you have it in you to trust. Is it me? You can’t trust me?”
Everything in her heart screamed she could but her head didn’t want to admit it. “It’s not you,” she whispered. “I don’t see myself as broken or hurt or weak. And I’ve never trusted another person, other than my family, to feel the same way about me. To see me as an equal and not a fragile doll.”
He laughed softly, cupping the back of her head, thumb rubbing the shell of her ear. “I call you doll because you look like one. But you sure as hell aren’t broken.”
She gave in to the feeling, the weight of his hand on her, the caress of his thumb. He took another step closer, so her chest brushed his. He cupped the side of her neck and tilted her head up with his thumb on the bottom of her chin. She had to look at him. There was nowhere else to look. A soft smile played on this lips. “That’s what you’ve taught me, even if you don’t know it yourself. I’ve never felt stronger than when I decided to open up to you. When I decided to surrender my heart to you.”
He tore down that wall, brick by brick with his bare hands, that she’d so painstakingly put into place since that day at the shop. She opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say, which was good because Max kept talking.
“I thought keeping my distance from everyone and sticking with the family business was strength. I thought working out at the gym was all it took to call myself strong. But, you . . . fuck, Lea, you showed me how liberating it was to let all that go—how it was stronger to put my heart on the line and fight for the future I wanted.”
“But . . .” The guilt welled in her throat, cutting off her words. She swallowed and tried again. “But I made you weak.”
“How?” he challenged quickly.
“I . . . I knew about the gun. I had planned to tell you at the shop when I visited, but then . . . and I was the reason you were on campus. That’s what happens when I open up and trust. I get hurt.” She exhaled roughly. “And other people get hurt.”
Max looked at her with a wry twist to his lips. “Are you serious?”
She smacked his chest. “Don’t make fun of me, asshole. Yes, I’m serious.” But her resolve was weakening, because Nick had told her the same thing.
He shook his head. “Look, we can’t change what happened. I was there and so were they, and so . . .” He shrugged.
“But I didn’t tell you about the gun and—”
“Is that what you’re upset about? What, you feel guilty?”
She nodded and his face relaxed. “Oh doll, it wouldn’t have mattered. And you know what happened, right? You know I got away. Because of you. Because of what you taught me. I got away and those assholes are gonna sit in a cell now.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts. And no guilt.” He said each word with a slight shake of her shoulders, like he wanted to imprint it in her brain. And each shake rattled that pile of guilt until the small ray of sun peeking through was a wide beam. Soon, it’d be the whole sky.
“Max . . .” She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, closing her eyes.
“You’re not weak. Not at all.”
She opened her eyes and fell into his.
“You wanna know what I told my dad and brothers about you?”
She nodded.
“I told them you’re funny. And smart, so fucking smart. And I told them you can kick my ass . . . they really loved that and Brent wants you to do some moves on Cal. And I told them you’re beautiful. I told them you’re the strongest person I know.”
She sucked in a breath when his voice caught on strongest.
“And,” he continued, “I told them you’re the girl I fell in love with.”
That was it. Max stomped the wall beneath his boots into dust. But she stood behind that wall, not weak or defenseless, but strong because being with Max made her stronger.
He was right. In his Max way.
Neither of them was weak.
She flung her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. His arms were around her back, lifting her up so he could wrap her legs around his waist.
He opened his mouth
and she took what she could, showing him how he was the the cause for the strength pumping through her veins.
He pulled back, his breath coasting over her lips, and sat her on the counter of the kitchenette, keeping his place between her thighs. “I don’t think we should make out here.”
“Yeah, probably not.”
He rested his forehead on hers and she ran her hands through his hair, pausing at the stitches on his scalp behind his ear. Her stomach twisted. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
He didn’t say anything, just watched her eyes.
“I thought about you every day,” she said.
He fingertips slipped under the hem of her shirt and skimmed the skin at her hips. “I know it was you who brought me the shirt.”
She leaned in to his touch, unable to resist rolling her hips against his. His breath caught in his throat. “Cal told you it was me?”
He leaned in to her body, his hands roving now, around to the small of her back, his fingers dipping beneath her waistband. His lips were at her ear. “No, he didn’t.”
She crossed her ankles, locking herself around him, and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “How did you know?”
He pulled his head back to look in her eyes, his whole hands down the back of her pants, kneading her butt. “I just knew. I heard your voice in my head. And I felt your touch. And I smelled you. Everywhere in that room and on that shirt. Still haven’t washed it.”
She dropped her forehead onto his shoulder.
“Why’d you leave?” he whispered.
She closed her eyes. “I heard your dad’s voice. I left before he came into your room.”
He stroked her hair. “I’m sorry about him. Look, I’m not going to lie. I told him I was going to break up with you. But it’s because . . . you were the one thing in my life that was mine. What I chose. I didn’t know those words were going to come back and bite me in the ass. I never intended to break up with you, for what we had to be a one-night thing.”
She bit her lip. “I wish I would have trusted you enough.”
“We’ll work on it,” he said, brushing her bangs back and forth on her forehead with his fingers. “We got time. We were just interrupted a little.”
“You really changed your major?”
“I did.”
She pecked him on the nose. “I’m proud of you.”
“Proud of me, too, doll.” He gave her a peck on the lips. “Anyway, your presence has been requested at the Payton household for Thanksgiving. Now, I can’t promise mashed potatoes that aren’t lumpy and I can’t promise the green beans won’t be steamed into mush, but I can promise a hell of a turkey because Cal has perfected the art of the turkey fryer. He only burnt down our back porch once.”
Her eyes widened at the mention of fire. “Are you serious?”
Max’s eyes twinkled. “If you come to Thanksgiving, I’ll tell you all about it.”
She twirled the hair at the nape of his neck. “Okay, if you promise to go shopping on Black Friday with me and my mom at midnight.”
Max’s mouth dropped open in shock and she threw back her head and laughed. When she looked back at him, his eyes were narrowed. “You’re kidding, right?”
She grinned. “Yep, but you do have to come with me to my parents’ on Friday.”
“Deal,” he said on an emphatic nod.
She pushed on his shoulders so he stepped back, and then he helped her down off of the counter.
“This was pretty clever,” she said, twirling her finger. “Cornering me in my professor’s office and everything.”
He leaned back, bracing his arms on the counter, and his shirt stretched across his broad chest. “Yeah? I thought of it all by myself.”
“You want the rest of the tour?” she said, sauntering toward the door.
He pushed his lips out and cocked his head to the side. “I want a tour.”
“What tour do you want?”
He pushed off from the counter and prowled toward her. “Your apartment. Your room. I’d love a tour of your bed, specifically between the sheets.”
“That’s a really specific tour.”
He grabbed her around the waist. “I’m a Lea-specific kind of guy.”
Chapter 24
THE PIE WAS still warm and it heated Lea’s thighs despite the thermal bag she’d placed it in. Which was nice because despite the heat blasting in Max’s drunk, it was still wasn’t very warm.
Danica had helped her with an apple crumb pie, and it smelled divine when they’d baked it that morning, along with the pie Danica planned to take with her to Monica’s house for Thanksgiving.
Lea checked her phone. Danica had finally texted back in answer to her inquiry. Just got here. It’s all good.
Lea smiled.
“What are you smiling at?” Max asked, glancing at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road.
“Nothing, just a text from Danica.”
“She still hate me?”
Lea turned to Max. She knew he meant the question to come off as a joke but there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone. He didn’t want her roommate to dislike him. “No, she doesn’t hate you. I don’t think she ever hated you. She just didn’t care for you. And actually, she’s more mad at me for leaving the hospital without talking to you.”
He thought for a minute. “You know I was a little mad at you, too. I was laid up and I wanted to talk to you and apologize. But looking back, maybe we both needed that time. I needed to get my shit together and you needed to . . .”
He let his voice trail and she nodded. She had to let the past go and trust again.
“I wish it hadn’t had to happen that way, though.”
He reached for her hand. “But it did. And we’re stronger for it.”
She twined her fingers with hers and leaned back in the seat, closing her eyes and humming along with the radio.
“Meooorrrrwwww,” Wayne called from the backseat, where he was secure in his crate. He had such an odd-voweled meow. Max said he must have led his pack with it. When Lea explained stray cats weren’t really pack animals, Max hadn’t wanted to hear it.
Lea’s eyes popped open. She rolled her head to the side and smiled. “I think he’s had enough of the trip.”
“Quiet down back there!” Max scowled in the rearview mirror, then winked at Lea. He’d been adamant about bringing Wayne. Even though they’d only be gone a couple of days, Max worried about Wayne being alone in the town house, even with an automatic feeder and water bowl. Lea secretly thought it was cute but outwardly rolled her eyes at him.
Wayne let out another cry.
“You know,” Lea said, twisting with a knee up on the seat so she could face Max. “Pretty sure when I saw you trying to coax the injured cat to trust you is when I knew you’d get to me.”
“Oh yeah?” Max raised an eyebrow, keeping his eyes on the road.
She leaned closer. “I think that’s when I knew I’d fall in love with you.”
Max whipped his head to look at her.
“Eyes on the road, Max,” she said in a singsong voice. He straightened his head but his hands clutched the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip.
It’d been weeks, and he hadn’t said the words since that day in the faculty room on campus. And she hadn’t said the words at all. Not that she didn’t know—because she did—but because she didn’t know when to say it. And now, on the way to see his family while her nerves tickled her belly, she wanted to walk onto his home turf with full disclosure.
“I love you, Max,” she whispered.
And now he turned his head to her again, a scowl on his face, which was the last thing she expected to see.
“Seriously?” he said incredulously.
“What?”
“You tell me that now? While I’m driving?”
She threw a hand in the air. “Well I don’t know! Did you want, like, candles and rose petals in a bath?”
“Maybe, if you were in there naked!” He fired b
ack.
“Are we seriously fighting about where I told you I loved you!”
“Yes!”
“Why!”
“Because I don’t want to tell you that I love you back when I’m not able to kiss you!”
The irritation drained out of Lea’s body in a rush. Max looked so adorably miffed that she had to tuck her lips between her teeth to stop from laughing.
Max glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Doll, this isn’t funny.”
“Mims a mimble mummy,” she mumbled through closed lips.
“What?”
She opened her lips and a giggle burst out. “It’s a little funny.”
His death glare was the last straw, and she burst out laughing as Wayne let out another meow.
And then the car jolted and the tires spun as they careened into gravel on the side of the road. She grabbed the handle on the door as the truck came to an abrupt halt.
Then Max’s seatbelt pinged and so did hers. She had the presence of mind to set the pie on the floor at her feet before she was hauled across the bench of his truck seat onto Max’s lap. The steering wheel dug into her back and the gear shift jabbed into her knee but she didn’t even feel it once Max’s lips were on hers.
She grasped his hair and he cupped her neck, his thumbs at her jaw, tilting her head so he could direct the kiss.
And she let him. She let him control this kiss and manipulate her legs until she straddled his hips. And she let him show everything he could physically in a way that made the words they had just said pale in comparison.
The kiss slowed and then Wayne meowed again, clearly impatient in his crate and urging them to get back on the road. Max rested his forehead against hers, his full lips wet and a little swollen. She leaned back against the steering wheel and grinned. “You still mad?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Yep.”
“No you’re not.”
He barked a laugh. “Fine, I’m not, but unless you wanna screw in the car, I suggest you get back over on your side.”
“Such a gentleman.”
Max smirked.
“And you brought me over here, so you put me back.”
Make It Right Page 22