Max (A Carter Brother series Book 4) (15 page)

The doctor smiles before replying. “We won’t know the sex until her twenty week scan. Your midwife will already have that booked in. But I would like you to make weekly visits to your midwife in the meantime.’’

“So, how far gone is she?’’

“She’s eight and a half weeks. I’ll leave you to get cleaned up and a nurse will be with you shortly. You’ll be able to go home, but I strongly advise you to have lots of rest, at least until you’re feeling one hundred percent better.’’

“You promise there is nothing wrong?’’ Harlow whispers, tears in her eyes.

“I can’t promise anything. But right now, yes, you and the babies are fine. It’s still early on in the pregnancy so anything can happen. Just try to relax.’’

Harlow nods her head and we’re all quiet as we watch the doctor leave the room.

“I cannot believe we’re having twins. What are we going to do?’’ Harlow asks, tears running down her cheeks. “How will we cope? I can’t do it. I can’t! How am I going to look after two?’’ Harlow asks, doing a complete three sixty. Not two seconds ago she was on cloud nine knowing that they were safe and everything was fine. Now she looks like she’s about to blow.

It’s the first time I’ve seen her lose it like this. No, that’s a lie. When some bitch at school took a photo of her in the school showers, that’s when I first saw her lose it. She wanted to leave home to move to a new town, pleading for it all to end. It was horrible seeing her crumble like that. We were all worried at first that she would do something stupid. It wasn’t just about the photo. She was also having some trouble off another kid at school, she just moved in with her Nan whom she had only just met and was still in the deep grieving stages from losing both her parents tragically.

“Darling, the only other options are abortion or adoption, are you willing to do that?’’

I feel everyone’s eyes snap to Joan’s, furious at her words. How can she even ask that? I’m about to butt in, thankfully, Malik get’s there first.

“Joan,’’ he snaps. “That’s not even an option.’’

“I’m asking Harlow,’’ Joan says softly, looking back to her granddaughter.

“Grams, I could never do that. I love them both so much already,’’ Harlow answers confidently, her eyes spilling with tears.

“Then there’s your answer. No matter how hard life gets, how hard it will be raising two babies, remember
this
exact moment. Remember the choice you could have made and how that choice made you feel. Always come back to this moment because life, honey, is beautiful. Bringing two children into this world is just magical. It’s a precious gift and I have no doubt, no fear, but every bit of faith in you that you will be the best mother you can be,’’ Joan speaks, her voice soft and quiet. It’s then the tension in the room eases, my own shoulders sagging with relief. Joan didn’t want Harlow to make a choice, she wanted her to realise she was making the right decision.

“Thank you, Grams,’’ Harlow whispers, leaning forward to give her a hug.

“Twins, this shit is awesome,’’ I blurt out. “As long they don’t turn out to be girls; then you’re fucked, brother.’’

Everyone laughs, even Harlow who pulls away from Joan to look at me. Malik looks pissed and I can see in his eyes that he’s just started praying, no, demanding the twins are boys. Though, they could be like me and Myles.

“Let’s just be thankful they’re okay and healthy,’’ Granddad speaks up, his voice soft too and looking at Harlow like she’s gifting him the world. Sappy fucker.

“Twins! I can’t believe we’re having twins. It’s real, look?’’ Harlow tells us again, her eyes on the frozen screen of the baby.

“Yeah, Angel, it’s real and I promise with all of my heart that I will take care of you. All of you,’’ Malik vows and that’s when I decide it’s my cue to get out of here.

It’s been a few days since Harlow collapsed and everyone found out she and Malik were having twins. She’s been in bed for the past few days resting; neither Malik nor Joan letting her lift a finger. She hates every moment and has made sure everyone knows it.

“If one more person asks me if I’m okay, I’m going to snap. I mean really freakin’ snap,’’ Harlow growls from her bed.

I laugh. “They’re just worried about you,’’ I answer.

We’ve been watching a TV series called Chicago Fire that we found out about a few days ago. Since then we’ve done nothing but watch it in Harlow’s room on Netflix. It’s been addictive.

“There’s worried and then there’s Nan and Malik. They’re in a whole new category of their own. I need to get back to college, work out if I’ll be able to take the time off when I have the babies.’’

“Have you told them you’re pregnant?’’ I ask.

“Not yet. One of the girls in my class mentioned her sister needing loads of time off during her pregnancy and that in the end the college let her go. She wouldn’t have passed, but still, I’m scared that will happen to me. I’m only in the early stages and already I’ve been rushed to hospital.’’

“You had low blood pressure,’’ I remind her. “And carrying twins.’’

“True. I’d still rather work with my college teachers so that I don’t end up the same as that girl. I need to finish to get my diploma.’’

“You will,’’ I promise her. “You have a great network of support around you. All of them would help you out any way they could.’’

“True again. I just don’t want to rely on everyone. I guess I want to prove to everyone and all the stuck up people who bitch about young moms not able to bring up their kids properly that I – we – can do it. My mom used to tell me she got a lot of stick from people, even her friends, because they thought she was too young, too immature to bring a child into the world, but she proved them all wrong. She was the best mom I could ever wish for. She’d show me pictures of everything I did from when I was too young to remember doing them. I loved it. I remember always wishing that I would be half the mom she was to me.’’

“People talk crap. Ignore them. Yeah, some teenagers don’t have the maturity to raise a child, yet, most of them raise their kids better than most parents in their forties. A girl, Demy, her mom was like sixty-three. Her mom didn’t have her until she had a decent job, money in the bank and in a solid marriage. By the time all that happened she was forty-five. She didn’t have the energy to do the things young moms can do. It’s not that they neglected her, don’t get me wrong, but they weren’t as active in her life as other mothers were in their children’s lives. She would get picked on a lot too for having older parents. Most people presumed she lived with her grandparents,’’ I tell her. Demy wasn’t just left out of sleepovers or having friend’s sleepover, she was also left out with up-to-date technology, TV shows and the new fashion.

“You’re totally right. I guess it doesn’t matter how old you are, to be honest. As long as the child is happy I don’t think it matters. And I’m going to love my babies with all of my heart and soul,’’ she smiles.

I smile back. I’m so excited for her. I’m also hoping I’m around to see the twins being born. Sadness creeps in every time I think about leaving.

The door to Harlow’s bedroom opens and Malik walks in. He’s been at a job all afternoon and is covered in paint.

“Hey,’’ I wave and get up from the bed, knowing he’s going to want to shower and want some privacy. “I’m going to head downstairs, I’ll catch up with you later,’’ I tell Harlow.

“You don’t need to go,’’ she whines, pressing pause on the TV.

My eyes flick to Malik uncomfortably. I don’t want to tell her I’m leaving so her boyfriend can have some privacy but I also don’t want to get her upset.

“It’s fine. I need to check on Thor anyway,’’ I smile.

“I’m still gutted he won’t come up here,’’ she pouts, her accusing eyes narrowing on Malik. I hear him chuckle and I grin.

“What can I say? He loves me,’’ I laugh.

“Boo hoo! See you later,’’ she grumbles, making me laugh. I wave bye and head downstairs to my room. Joan should be back soon so I’ll have some peace and quiet until then.

*** *** ***

When Max walks into my room two hours later he startles me. I look up and my jaw goes slack at the sight of him in my doorway. He’s in his dark jeans, a blue hoody, and his Nike trainers and wearing his dark blue Nike cap. He looks more like a boy in this outfit, but if I’m being honest, he looks fitter. I’ve seen him wearing just his boxers, work clothes, and seen him dressed up, well, for Max anyway, so you’d think I’d get used to the different looks he can pull off by now.

Obviously not.

“What are you doing here?’’ I ask surprised. He said his granddad was making him go look at a college course that he’d seen in one of the college application course books.

In the end, Max decided to take the sports and leisure course, seeming really interested in it. He hadn’t heard of it before, however, if he gets his diploma there’s a lot he can do with it. I personally think he’ll be good as a football coach. I’ve seen him with some of the kids in the street playing football. He’s pretty good with them.

Thor jumps up on my lap, bringing my attention back to him, and I giggle. He’s so freaking cute.

In just the little time I’ve had him he’s already gained a lot of weight. He’s also come into himself and has become my cute little terroriser.

“I owe you payback,’’ Max answers after a couple of seconds, walking farther into the room.

My head snaps up at that. I try reading his expression and I can tell he’s deadly serious.

Thor runs across the bed before pouncing back in my lap where I’m sitting cross legged. He walks around in a slow circle; all the while I can’t keep my eyes off Max who is locking the door behind him.

“W-what do you mean?’’ I choke out nervously. The tension in the room is thick, not caused by revenge but by lust. I can see it in his eyes, read it on his face and hear it in his breathing as he steps closer towards the bed.

My breathing picks up, the swell of my breasts expanding in my white camisole with each breath I take.

“You see, I’ve been waiting for the swelling on my left ball bag to go down before I chose the perfect moment to approach you.”

That explains why I haven’t seen him since the hospital.

“To approach me?’’ I choke out, leaning back further into the bed.

“Yes, approach you. You owe me,’’ he whispers huskily, his gaze drifting to my lips which has me squirming. My mouth hangs open when he leans into me, his fists to the bed, his gaze searing into mine. Whatever bizarre game he’s playing, I don’t want to play. Okay, that’s a damn straight lie. Whatever game he’s playing, at this precise moment in time, I’m in.
All
in.

“Owe you?’’ I ask, tilting my head a little to the side. A quick grin tugs at his mouth, his dimples showing and melting me right there and then.

“Owe me,’’ he agrees, smirking. Moving in closer, his spicy scent surrounds me. His scent is one of the things that turns me into a blonde bimbo around him. It’s so intoxicating, all man, all natural, and all him.

“And what do I owe you?’’ I ask, showing more confidence than what I actually have right now. I’m really a nervous wreck having him this close, his lips right there in front of me, ready for attack. The urge to grab at him and slam my lips onto his is driving me wild. Ever since we kissed that first time it’s consumed my thoughts and my dreams over and over.

“You have to go out with me,’’ he states, moving in closer, his lips hovering over mine.

I take in a deep breath, trying to concentrate but it’s hard having him this close. “No.’’

“No?’’ he asks amused. “I’m not giving you a choice. You owe me. And I want a chance to prove to you I’m not whatever your mind has twisted me up to be.’’

“You really thought this through,’’ I snap, my lust and desire evaporating.

“Of course I did. I’ve been fantasising about you since the moment you gave me attitude at the station,’’ he grins.

I roll my eyes and try to push him away, but his hard body doesn’t budge. No, it doesn’t budge. Instead he moves closer, closing the little space that is between us, placing his lips on mine. His tongue swipes inside my mouth and I melt into the kiss, kissing him back with such intensity that I moan into his mouth.

When I hear a hissing sound I ignore it, too committed to the kiss, when all of a sudden Max flies backwards screaming. I sit back stunned, wondering what just happened. It doesn’t take me that long to guess when Thor cuddles back into my lap, purring himself back to sleep.

I look back up to Max with a shocked face before bursting into laughter when I notice Thor has scratched his throat.

“He tried to slice my throat open,’’ Max hisses, his eyes narrowing on Thor.

I laugh. Hard. And in doing so I disturb Thor and his little cat nap. I laugh at him, stroking his soft fur before looking back up at Max.

“He’s a kitten,’’ I scoff. “Stop being so dramatic.’’

“Are you serious? That thing was a tramp before you took it in. I could have rabies. Fuck! I need to go.’’

“Max,’’ I laugh, stopping him. “He’s had injections.’’

“Yeah? Well, that makes one of us. Who the fuck knows if my mom or dad fucking bothered to take any of us to get our injections when we were little.’’

“So, you’re saying you’re diseased?’’ I choke out, trying hard to keep my laughter at bay. “That
you
could have given Thor something?’’

“No. I’m...What I’m saying is,’’ he pauses looking at Thor warily. “Fuck! I need to go. Look, he’s staring at me.’’

I look down at Thor and notice he is in fact staring at Max; his green eyes focused entirely on him.

“That’s because you’re being dramatic; isn’t it, Thor?’’ I coo, teasingly. Max grunts and I look up at him from under my lashes and grin.

“Oh, you’re enjoying this. I’ll be back tomorrow. Be ready for 7.’’

“What for?’’ I scoff, still laughing.

“Well, if you’re going to go out with me then we need to go on a date,’’ he winks. That cheeky, sly, little sod.

I narrow my eyes. “I’m not going out with you or on a date.’’

“You will. You won’t have a choice.’’

“We’ll see,’’ I sing, still keeping my eyes narrowed on him.

“Stop fighting the inevitable, Lake,’’ he sings back as he walks to the door. He unlocks it, opens it, and steps out before turning back around to face me with an expression I know all too well. “And wear something that will...’’

“Stop right there, buddy,’’ I shout, knowing where his dirty mind is taking him. His laugh echoes down the hallway and all the way down the stairs. Once he’s out of ear shot, I lie back down on my bed, fuming. I hate that he got to me, that he got me worked up in all the right ways, but mostly because he
left
me worked up in the right ways.

*** *** ***

The following night I make sure to be gone by five. Knowing Max, he will know I’ll be avoiding him and arrive early.

So when five comes along, I grab my coat, say goodbye to Joan and leave in the pouring rain. As soon as I get clear of the street, I begin to relax. Max scares me and not in the way most people get scared but emotionally scared. The scared that has me trying to build my walls back up, yet, every time I’m in his company he manages to knock two-to-three down at a time.

I end up at the cinema, watching some lovesick movie that bores me to tears and has me spending
more
time thinking about Max, my vibrating phone, and what I’m going to do next.

By the time I leave the cinema it’s finally late enough for me to go back. I’ve eaten dinner and watched two movies since I had nothing else to occupy my time.

The lights are on when I arrive back home. No doubt Joan will be waiting up to see where I’ve been all night. Since arriving I’ve not been one to disappear or to leave at night. I guess I should have filled her in on the whole Max date thing and me trying to avoid him. But she’s done nothing but try and get me and Max together.

When I first found out Max would be doing community service at the church I wanted nothing to do with him. I vowed to stay as far away as possible. But then Joan lumbered him with me at the church and as much as I tried to hate him, I can’t. I should but I can’t.

Then when we’re together, hell, even apart, Joan will find a way for him to do something for me or vice versa. It’s obvious where her loyalties lie and I suppose that’s why I never really told her what I was planning on doing tonight.

Walking in, I hear someone get up off the sofa and I brace myself. When Joan walks into the hallway I relax slightly until I see the expression on her face. She looks wary, disappointed and, if I’m not mistaken, like she’s up to something. She has that look on her face. The one I’m becoming accustomed to. The look that warns me I’m about to get manipulated in some way.

“Hey,’’ I wave lamely.