I haven’t been in here since Max was sick, and the memories of those three days hit me like an attack: Max’s comatose request for me to stalk him, the small pieces of him that I saw that had drawn me closer, and the hours that we lay together in his bed watching movies. My eyes flash to the bed and the familiar chocolate brown sheets.
I’ve slept in those sheets!
God I’m being a tween.
“Hey,” Max says, softly running a hand up my arm. I turn my attention over to him as he stands beside me, his brows knitting together as his eyes shift over my face. It’s his calculated, ‘I’m in your mind, reading everything you’re not saying’ face, and I smile to reassure him.
“We can go back to your house or go get some ice cream or something?”
I shake my head in protest. “No, really. I’m fine.”
“Ace, just because we’re in here, doesn’t mean … I mean I’m not expecting … anything.” His eyes are focused on mine. “Nothing is going to happen, unless you want it to.”
“I think that’s what makes me nervous.”
His eyes narrow with thought, trying to ascertain my admission.
“I really want this,” I quietly clarify, dropping my eyes to watch my thumbs and forefingers rub the hem of my green shorts.
Max’s hand gently wraps around my chin, and he lifts my gaze back to his. “I’m right here,” he says and then shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere.” He lowers his face to mine and kisses me once, softly on the lips. I feel a magnetic pull to him that makes me want to irrationally wrap myself around him.
“Let’s put on a movie,” Max says, releasing my face as he makes his way over to his TV and I think about his words,
I’m not going anywhere.
Am I worried about him going somewhere? Is that what this flustering panic is about, that I’m afraid he’s going to leave?
Maybe
.
“How about
The Bourne
series? If you get tired of looking at me, I hear Matt Damon is fun to watch,” he says, flipping through some movies.
“Sure.” I sit on the edge of his bed and watch as he slides the movie in. Seeing his large hands being so gentle and nimble brings me back to all of the times I’ve seen him working on his motorcycle or on Clementine with my dad and Kyle, carefully moving with precision and expertise on pieces that seemed too small for his hands.
Max stands and grabs a remote as my thoughts return to the here and now as he heads back to me.
“Alright, this is a four movie series, which means for the next three nights you’re going to have to be over here watching the
entire
series,” Max explains, standing in front of me.
“Are you asking me for a four day commitment?” I tease.
“I’m just explaining the rules. If we start this, we’re not turning back. You need to make sure that you understand what you’re getting yourself into.” My eyes flash to his as the humor leaves his face and I realize he’s not referring to the next four nights. “No more trying to ignore your feelings and avoiding me.” I can’t tear my eyes away from his, which are staring at me with such intensity I’m tempted to sign away my soul and body if that’s what he’s asking for.
“Just you and me,” Max says, closing the last couple of inches between us. “But this decision is yours.” If only he knew that this decision was made long before this moment. “You need to say it,” he says, apparently sensing the fact that I’m preparing to agree to his terms with a kiss.
“You and me,” I repeat softly. “I understand.”
Max looks at me for a long moment, his blue eyes seeking something from mine. Apparently he finds it, because his face visibly relaxes, and then he closes the gap between us, pressing his lips firmly against mine with a new sense of urgency. The same heat returns filling my body with an undeniable fire that makes me feel like I’m going to combust.
Max breaks away and his eyes run a trail from mine to my lips several times before he grins. “It’s even better than I thought it would be.” My heart beats a bit faster at his words, increasing the need that I feel to continue this, continue kissing Max. He gives me a smile and turns to the TV, bringing the movie to life before climbing on the bed. He grabs my hand and gently tugs, motioning for me to join him, and I settle into the small mound of pillows at our back as he slips an arm around me, wrapping his hand around my hip and pulling me closer to him.
The movie plays for a while and I focus on paying attention to it. I’m even enjoying it, wondering why I’ve never watched the series before, when I notice Max’s hand fractionally move, tightening his grip on my waist, making my breath leave me in a sudden rush. I turn to Max and catch him looking at me with an intensity that tells me he’s the hunter and I’m about to be the prey as he watches my every move. The exhilaration of seeing him look at me like this washes all of my inhibitions away and before I can think twice about it, I swing my leg over his lap, straddling his waist and find his lips.
Max’s lips meld to mine and a small groan escapes as desire builds inside of me like I’ve never felt.
I’ve kissed a decent number of guys in my life. The first couple, and then a few later on, had made me wonder why people kiss; they had been messy and forceful, leaving me with the strong desire to brush my teeth. Most had been fun and taught me to really like kissing, feeling a boy being soft and tender was something I enjoyed the thrill of, and knowing that they wanted me had fueled me to kiss guys sometimes even though I had little interest in them. Kissing Max is something entirely different. I’m not thinking, I’m reacting, like a puppet being directed by his body, his mouth, and his hands, which move over me burning a brazen trail in their wake. All I can think about is how I can get closer to him, touch more of him, taste more of him.
He turns his head and makes a soft trail to the sensitive skin behind my ear that he had found in the basement. Shivers course through me as he continues down to my collarbone and my hands drop to his waist, where I tug on his shirt, trying to rid the barrier. Max pulls back and quickly peels it off tossing the wad of cotton against the wall behind me, where it falls with a nearly silent
hush
to the floor. I look down at his body and watch as his broad chest rises and falls with his breaths, tracing over the tattoos that wind from just above his elbow to his shoulder and down around part of his chest with my eyes before looking back up to his face. His eyes are filled with fervor and excitement that fills me with a similar effect to taking straight shots of vodka. I reach for his shoulders and pull his face back to mine where I close my lips over his.
As the kiss deepens, my hands travel across the contours of his chest and stomach until they reach the V-cut that is so perfectly prominent along his hips. A growl cuts from Max’s throat that only serves to build my excitement. His hand captures both of my wrists and he pulls back, dusting a line of kisses across my shoulder, before he leans back and creates a barrier of air between us that suddenly seems nearly impenetrable from the havoc he wreaks on my nerves and emotions.
“We have to slow down.” His voice comes out husky and thick, and I slowly nod in response, not certain of how else to respond.
“Ace, I’m not looking for you to be one of those girls. You’re different.” My mind begins racing in an attempt to understand every possible explanation this vague sentence holds.
“Talk to me. Stop over analyzing things and talk to me.”
“You don’t want me.” My words are a statement, not a question.
Max shakes his head with a small chuckle, “I’m going to be beating myself up for the next decade for stopping us here.” He gently reaches up and runs his thumb down the side of my face.
“Is it because you know?”
“Know what?”
“I’ve never … that I’m a virgin,” I say, nervously toying with the sheet.
“Kyle really is going to kill me,” Max groans, leaning back against the pillows. “You’re a virgin?” he asks a bit too loudly. “How in the hell did that happen?”
“What do you mean how did that happen?” I ask, feeling slightly indignant. “Kendall told you that I was at the bonfire.” I scoot further back, the gap growing between us.
Max grabs my hips and pulls me closer, shaking his head. “No she didn’t.”
“Yes, she did. When you asked if Eric was my first.”
“I didn’t realize she meant you were a virgin! I’m sorry, it’s just in high school, I knew tons, like seriously ridiculous amounts of guys from school that were infatuated with you! You dated a good number of guys, I just assumed …” I look at him and shake my head slowly. “We definitely need to slow down then. I mean, really, that could have gone, and then …” Max’s words cut off as he gets lost in thought. “Ace, I don’t want you to be just some girl. You know that right?” He carefully watches my eyes, waiting as I absorb his statement. “We’re doing this, you and me, we’re dating. I want to be the guy your parents and you trust and respect.”
“Then we may have to create a three-foot rule, because I feel like I’m trying to corrupt you or something over here.” This time when I scoot back he allows me to do so and runs a hand down his face.
“You’re really a virgin?”
“You say that as if it’s the biggest mood killer,” I say, frowning.
“No, believe me, it’s far from a mood killer. I just never expected it.” he says, taking a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter though, I wasn’t going to allow things to go that far tonight regardless.”
My eyes travel from Max’s face, down to his bare chest, and I grab another pillow from beside me and place it between us.
Max laughs, grabbing it. He tosses it to the wall his shirt had hit. “I want things to be different with you.”
“Are you, Max Miller, telling me that you want to have an emotional relationship with me, prior to having a physical one?” I ask, turning my eyes to his face.
“I’m telling you, Harper Bosse, that I want to learn everything about you, and I want us to be able to have a strong enough relationship that when I piss you off … because that will happen on occasion and
when
it does, you and I have something stronger than sex that will help us get through it.”
“You are such a girl,” I tease.
Max grins at me. “I blame Jameson, he looks like a dude, but really, that guy probably has more estrogen than your entire house.”
I laugh and then start thinking about Max’s previous relationships; it never seemed like any of them stuck around long, prompting me to my next question. “So how long is slow?” I ask.
“I don’t know, a while,” Max says, shrugging. “A month or two, maybe more?”
“You’re serious?” My eyes widen in shock and disappointment. That wasn’t the answer I had been expecting.
“I’m going to make sure you don’t regret it.”
I sag into the pillows in defeat. Honestly, I’m glad he stopped us. The fact that Max respects me enough to not want to have sex right away, even when he hadn’t known that I’m a virgin speaks volumes to me. However, there’s a frustration brewing in me that makes it difficult to focus on being rational.
We watch nearly the entire movie with our full attention. Well, nearly our full attention; occasionally something breaks our focus, like when I try to resituate to get my phone out of my back pocket and accidentally scoot a bit closer to him than I’d intended and feel Max’s muscles tighten. At first he does nothing to my disappointment, so I press back even further into his pelvis and feel his breathing stop for a moment before he surprises me by rolling me onto my back and straddling me, locking both of my hands in one of his above my head and kissing the hell out of me.
Once, I’m not even trying to catch his attention and simply brush some hair back that tickles my neck, then I’m being pulled on top of him, his hands splayed over the curve of my hips.
“I should go home.” My voice is soft as the credits finish and the screen goes dark. Really, the last thing I want to do right now is leave, even if nothing more happens. Just staying right here in Max’s warmth with his scent enveloping me makes me resist wanting to ever move again.
“I’ll text Kendall and find out what she’s doing.” I grab my phone off his nightstand and prop myself up on my elbow to text her, trying to remain in our cocoon as long as possible.
Me: Hey, you still awake? We should probably go.
I hit send as Max lightly trails the tips of his fingers over my shoulder and down along my spine making goose bumps erupt over my skin. I watch as he smiles, his eyes seeming to notice the effect he has on me.
I climb out of bed knowing that if I don’t, it will be me that tries to cross the boundary line again.
“Jameson and I are going to San Diego tomorrow … or today to bring a couple of car loads up. I should be home by like five. Do you want to grab some dinner with me?” Max gently holds both sides of my face in his hands and moves my head up and down in a nodding motion.
I laugh, cupping my hands over his. “I’ll be here.” Max grins, softly kissing me once more as my phone buzzes indicating a text message.
Kendall: Ready when u r ... Anxiously aw8ing details.
“Your entire family is going to know when slow ends, huh?” Max asks, making no attempt to hide the fact that he just read my screen.
“That is a risk.”
“Talk about pressure,” he jokes, heading to retrieve his shirt from the floor.
Downstairs we find Kendall and Jameson making out against the wall in the foyer. I step around them to slide my feet into my flip flops before returning to Max. Grasping his shirt in my fists, I give him one last kiss.
“Say ‘goodnight, Jameson,’” I instruct, stepping around Jameson and Kendall again and opening the front door.
“Goodnight, Jameson,” Kendall mumbles, still kissing him, making no attempt to move as I head outside.
When I get up to my room I turn on the lights and see Max at his window, looking at me. I smile and wave, crossing the room and open it.
“Goodnight, Ace.”
“Goodnight, Max.” I call and leave the window open as I go and change and brush my teeth to get ready for bed.
Max’s light goes off shortly after mine, and I lie in my bed hardly able to sleep as the excitement of the last few hours runs through my head on repeat.