by Leisa Rayven
“There,” I say as I step back to assess my work. “You’re the prettiest elderly teenager in this place.” I lean over and kiss her forehead. “Of course, you’d tell me a man as amazing as Max is worth any amount of angst, wouldn’t you?” I sit and take her hand. “And you’d probably be right.”
I hear a noise, and when I look up, I see Max is in the doorway, watching me with a contemplative smile. “What would Nan be right about?”
My chest lights up with tingles, and I wonder if that’s a normal thing. “Everything. As usual.”
I stand and wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Look, Nan. Max is here.” Even saying his name makes butterflies take flight in my stomach.
He smiles. “Happy to report that Moby and I watched a couple of hours of Animal Planet together today. You know, he loves seeing how the common animals live.”
Max has been visiting Moby every morning to make sure he doesn’t get depressed, and Moby has taken to him like a duck to ... well, you know.
He looks at me and shakes his head. “I’m not saying that you’ve gotten even more beautiful since I saw you last, but ...” He takes a deep breath and lets it out. “God, I’ve missed you.”
“It’s been forty-eight hours.”
“And that’s forty-eight hours too long.” He comes over and pulls me into a hug, and these days I don’t tense up. I hug him back fiercely and let him take away some of my tension.
He pulls pack to look at me. “Would it be disrespectful to kiss you in front of your Nan?”
“No. In fact, the shock of me being affectionate with a man might actually wake her up. Go for your life.”
He kisses me, and within seconds we’re deeply invested in each other’s mouths. Lord, this is strange. Feeling all of this. Letting myself enjoy it. Having a heart so full it seems too big for my body.
We pull apart and step away from each other when a black nurse with unicorns on her scrubs comes in to check on Nan. Her name is Shirley, and she’s my favorite.
“Don’t let me stop you,” she says. “I never bought the story that you two were brother and sister anyway.”
Max wipes my lip gloss off his mouth and hides a smile. Then he grabs another chair, and we both sit beside the bed.
“So,” Max says as Shirley takes Nan’s readings and straps on a blood-pressure cuff. “I know we had plans tonight, but I have to work.”
“Another date?” I say, unable to hide my disappointment. “That’s the fourth one this week.”
Shirley finishes up notating Nan’s vitals and shoots us a look. “Oh, Lord. I’m outta here. You two have things to sort out.”
I can’t say she’s wrong.
When she’s gone, Max takes my hands. “I’m sorry. I have a backlog from the dates I canceled while I was trying to win you over. I’m just as disappointed as you are.” He links his fingers through mine. “The next couple of weeks are going to be hell, but then ... I’m doing everything I can to make sure we’ll have more time together. I promise.”
I’m feeling mildly resentful that a duck is seeing my man more than I am. “I could come over to the loft in the morning. Give you a special wakeup call.”
He looks down when I put my hand on his thigh, and I can practically hear the frantic rush of blood to his groin. “God, I’d love that, but tomorrow’s not great. Late night tonight, early start tomorrow. Maybe Friday?”
I lean away from him. For all of his acting prowess, right now it’s as clear as the boner in his pants that he’s hiding something. My brain says to call him out and try to get to the truth, but my heart whispers that the truth is probably the last thing I want to hear. There’s something going on with Max, and if he’s keeping it a secret, it must be something that will hurt me.
“Okay, then,” I say and do my best to act like anxiety isn’t turning my stomach into acid. “I’ll wait for you to call. Let me know when things slow down a little.”
He stands and pulls me to my feet, and then he cups my face with both hands and kisses me so deeply, I almost believe everything will be okay.
“I love you,” he says then kisses me again. “I promise, things will be less crazy soon. I’ll see you in a few days.”
He holds me for a few seconds, and then with effort, he pulls away and heads to the door.
When he leaves, I sigh and sit back in my chair. “I think you had the right idea, Nan. Ducks are way less stressful than men.”
* * *
As I step into Nannabeth’s apartment, I’m suspicious of how quiet it is. Usually as soon as Moby hears a key slide into the door he comes running to see who it is, but there’s no duck to be found.
“Max? Moby?” I walk into the living room and find Max’s leather duffle there, but the apartment’s empty. Figuring they must be up on roof, I head toward the back stairs.
It’s been two days since Max came to the hospital, and I’ve snuck away from Nan’s side in the hope of surprising him and convincing him to have lunch with me before he disappears for a date. It’s crazy that now that I’m officially his girlfriend, I’m seeing less of him than when he was just the subject of my story. How is that fair?
We talk on the phone, but it doesn’t make being separated any easier. I just need to see him for a few minutes to quiet my natural paranoia that whispers he could still be playing me. Now that I’ve agreed to kill the story, it seems like he’s going back to business as usual and keeping me interested enough not to make trouble. I don’t truly believe that, but my illogical, distrustful side does. When I look into his eyes, it makes that part shut up for a while. Being in his arms doesn’t hurt, either.
When I get up to roof, I curse that I’ve left my phone in the apartment, because the sight that greets me needs to be recorded for generations to come. Max is next to the pond wearing just shorts and running shoes, doing shirtless pushups, and Moby is sitting on his butt. Every time Max goes down then up again, Moby quacks, like some sort of feathery personal trainer.
I stay where I am and just watch, stifling my laughter. There’s something about the hotness of Max mixed with the adorableness of Moby that makes my heart, as well as locations lower on my body, go into overdrive.
I take my time to ogle Max and all of his sweaty, bulging glory as he does more pushups than I care to count. Dear God, those muscles. I’ve never really thought about how many places there are to fuck on Nannabeth’s roof before, but I’m sure as hell scoping them out now. He’s covered in tattoos today, and I wonder which fantasy they’re for. Then I stop wondering, because every scenario I come up with is way too sexy to contemplate, and I don’t want to think of him oozing all of that sexiness over someone else.
When Max finishes, he stands up slowly to give Moby a chance to flap to the ground.
“Okay,” he says, pointing to the pool. “Three times around it, and then you can have a swim.” Moby looks up at him and quacks. “Hey, don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time, buddy. Maybe in the future you’ll think more carefully before knocking over an entire box of oats and then spreading them all over the kitchen. Let’s go. Move that little feathery ass.” Max takes off at a slow jog, and Moby waddles to keep up, quacking angrily as he goes. “Complaining isn’t going to help. Come on. Pick up the pace.”
I smile as they do their laps, and when they’re done, I emerge from the shadows of the stairwell doorway just as Moby jumps up into the pond and splashes around.
Max flinches a little as I approach, clearly not expecting company.
“Oh, hey.” His shock melts into a smile, and he jogs over to meet me. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” He leans down and gives me a soft kiss, but when I try for more, he steps back. “Trust me, you don’t want to go there. I’m disgusting.”
I step into him and put my hands on his chest. “I don’t care. Kiss me.”
Lust flashes in his eyes, and he takes my head and angles it to the side before kissing me, slow and intense. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, and the roughness of his scru
ff is sexy as hell. He angles me the other way and groans against my lips. When he pulls back, he looks down at himself and sighs.
“See what you do to me? One kiss, and I’m rock hard. No other woman has ever had this effect on me before.”
I look down at the shape of him, jutting out and stretching the front of his shorts. “You know, it would really be a pity to see all of that go to waste. I could take care of it, if you want.”
I palm him gently, and he groans again. “You have no idea how much I’d like that, but I have to shower and get dressed. I have a date downtown in forty minutes, so I’m already in danger of running late. Are you okay to stay up here with Moby for a while?”
“Yeah. Of course. I’ll come down and see you before you go.” I hide my disappointment and try not to pout as he jogs over to the stairs and disappears.
Welp, best laid plans and all that. At least I got a kiss.
I go over to the pond and squat near the edge, so I can pick some leaves out of the water, and when I glance over at Moby, he looks toward the stairwell and quacks.
“Yeah, buddy. He’s left us.” He quacks again. “Well, he has a very important job that helps people feel good about themselves. It shouldn’t make me jealous, right?” Moby swims over to me and nuzzles my hand, and I take the cue to stroke his head. “Oh, you’re jealous, too? Thank God. Nice to know I’m not alone.”
He swims for a few more minutes but keeps looking over at the stairwell.
“Okay, fine. We’ll go down and see him. Come on.”
Moby jumps out of the pond and shakes off some water. Then I pick him up and carry him downstairs.
When we get back to the apartment, Max is freshly showered and smelling all citrusy and edible. I turn on the TV and put Moby in his spot on the couch then watch Max get ready. He’s wearing beat-up black jeans and black boots, and I watch his muscles ripple under his tattoos as he rubs some sort of gel into his hair to make it chaotic and messy.
“Playing Caleb today?” I ask, even though I hate the idea. No one should be allowed to swoon over that sexy musician except for me.
“Uh ... no.” He finishes his hair and pulls a black T-shirt from his bag. “I’m locked in to something a little rougher today.” After he pulls on the shirt, he digs into the bag again and removes a grungy leather jacket that has Sons of Diablo embroidered on the back.
“A biker?”
He nods and says, “Yep,” then shoves his dirty clothes and toiletries back into the duffle.
“So, how does this scenario work?”
He frowns as he zips the bag. “Oh, you know. Rough guy just needs the love of a good woman to tame him.” He sits in Nan’s favorite chair and laces up his boots.
“Has this client done this scenario before?”
“No.”
“Is it an existing client or someone new? Is she playing a role as well?”
He glances up at me then back to his boots. “Eden, I don’t think talking about work stuff is useful. I know you have a hard time with it.”
“Maybe if I know more about what’s going on, it will be easier.”
He stands and looks at me. “And maybe it won’t. If you were playacting with other guys, I know damn well I wouldn’t want to hear about it.” He walks into the kitchen, and returns with a fresh bowl of food for Moby, which he puts next to him. “Don’t eat that all at once, okay? It has to last until Mrs. Schott comes to see you in the morning.”
“Max ...” He turns to me, and I take his hand, trying to hide how my stomach is churning with anxiety. “I can guarantee nothing you tell me will be worse than what I’m imagining. Have you forgotten I’ve been on dates with you? I know how sexy they are.”
He brings my hand up and kisses the back of it. “Well, for a start, my regular dates are nowhere near as sexy as what I experienced with you. Our chemistry was off the charts. Today’s date is no big deal. My client is playing Dyson’s girlfriend. He’s an abusive asshole. Dyson has found out I like her, we fight, and then I romance the client for the rest of the night.”
“Uh huh.” I sidle up to him. “Okay, so ... give me a little taste of this sexy bad boy.” I run my fingers up the strong muscles in his neck.
“Eden ...” He tenses his jaw. “I really don’t think this a good idea.”
“Please? I could help you get into character.” I don’t know what the hell I’m doing right now, but I feel like I’m on the outside looking in, and I hate it.
He searches my face for a few seconds and must read how I’m feeling, because the next thing I know he grabs me roughly by my shoulders and shoves me back into the wall. “Is this what you want? To see me lose it, because I can’t fucking stay away from you? Is this why you came here?”
The personality change is so sudden, he catches me off guard, but when I realize he’s just slipping into character, I try to follow his lead.
“I came here to be with you,” I say, pushing him in the chest. “I don’t have your self-control. I can’t just feel this way and ignore it.”
His expression becomes hard and incredulous. “You think I can ignore how I feel about you? Are you fucking kidding me?” He searches my face, his anger fading the longer he stares at me. “Every day it kills me to not be with you, but what choice do I have? When I look at you, how I feel is written all over my face. This is why you can’t come around. Because every damn person I come across can tell I’m out of my mind in love with you. ”
He cups my face with both hands then kisses me, hard and needy. I kiss him back in the same way. It’s rough and accompanied by desperate noises, because we both know we’re not going to get the satisfaction we crave right now. His date is waiting, and unlike me, she’s paid for the pleasure of his company.
“I have no more time,” he says, as he kisses me once more.
“I know.” He pulls back and leans his forehead against mine, and we’re both panting when we take one last look at each other.
“Just out of interest,” I say, still regaining my breath. “Do you kiss your clients like that?” It’s out of my mouth before I have a chance to stop it.
Dammit, Eden. Stupid.
Predictably, Max tenses, and it feels like a bucket of water has been poured over us.
He steps back and adjusts his erection before putting his hands on his hips and sighing. “Eden ...”
“I’m sorry. Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”
He turns and grabs his bag. “I have to go. I’ll call you later, okay?”
I lean back against the wall, feeling foolish and petty. “Sure. Later.”
“Bye, Moby.” He opens the door and turns to look at me. “For the record, I don’t kiss anyone the same way I kiss you. Never have, never will. And in the future, I think it would be best if we don’t discuss work.”
I nod, and he gently closes the door behind him.
I cover my face with my hands and grunt in frustration. Well, that could have gone better.
I walk over and flop next to Moby on the couch, and notice he’s watching me with narrowed eyes.
“Don’t judge me. I know, okay?” He continues to stare. “Moby, you don’t know what it’s like. This is my first relationship, and I can’t deal with how much I love him most days. But the irony of our situation is that when we’re together, I can’t imagine life without him. And when we’re not, part of me thinks we’re both better off that way. And I don’t know if this is just how relationships work.”
Moby makes a soft noise and comes and sits on my lap. I stroke his feathers and try to let go of my tension.
“He knows how much I hate sharing him, Mobester. That’s why he doesn’t want to talk about it. But is this what our life is going to be like now? Me raging on the inside and him trying to sweep the issue under the rug?” Moby snuggles into my arm, and I can’t believe I’m so disoriented by this situation, I’m asking for advice from a duck.
I almost miss the days when I didn’t give two squats about Max Riley. It was
an easier, simpler time.
* * *
I finish reading the final paragraph of Great Expectations and close the cover. “See, Nan? This is why I’m always nice to homeless people. You never know when they might turn their lives around and become grateful rich people who want to give you heaps of money.”
I put the book on the floor with the growing pile that have already been read and yawn. I’ve slept here for the past few nights. I figure if I can’t be with Max, I’ll be with Nan. I just wished that when I talked to her about how my life seems to be spiraling into areas I can’t seem to navigate, she spoke back. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so lost.
“Nan,” I say and brush a stray piece of hair away from her face. “I haven’t said it for a few days, but ... could you wake up now? I miss you.” My throat tightens and my eyes well up. “God, how I miss you. I swear, if you just wake up you can lecture me all you like about my love life. In fact, I’d welcome you meddling right about now.” I wipe away a stray tear. “I have an amazing man, but there’s this terrible feeling I’m losing him, and I don’t know why.”
I take her hand, and for a brief second I think I feel her fingers tighten around mine. But as I hold my breath to see if it happens again, I realize it must have been wishful thinking.
Feeling frustrated and way too emotional, I wipe my face dry and hug her arm. “Please wake up. Please.” I close my eyes to stop the tears. “I’ve tried life without you, and I hate it. Come back to me. Please.”
I pray silently for a while, and I must eventually doze off, because I have a dream in which Nan lectures me about how wonderful Max is. As I come to, I hold onto the last vestiges of it. I’ve missed the sound of her voice so much, even hearing it in a fantasy makes me smile.
“I mean, really, Eden. It’s probably all in your head. You clearly love him. Why are you trying to sabotage things before you’ve even tried?”
God, that’s so realistic, it’s scary.
I snap my eyes open to see Nan staring down at me, eyes blue and bright.
“Oh, so you are awake? And here I was thinking you were pretending to sleep just to avoid the conversation.”