Pieces of Him (15 page)

I’m halfway through my third beer when I hear the sound of voices in the hall. One of them I know all too well. I get up to walk over to my door, and like a fucking creeper, I look out of the peephole. Emelia and her date are standing outside her door. I can’t make him out, but I can tell I have at least three inches on him.
I’m bigger than he is
, I think, picturing him laid out in the hallway after I’ve punched the shit out of him. I can hear their voices, but hard as I try, I can’t make out what they’re saying. From his body language alone, I can tell he’s going to try to kiss her. He takes a step closer to her invading her space, getting so close that she has to look up at him to keep eye contact. Don’t ask me why … don’t ask me what possesses me, but before he can make his move to kiss her, I open my door and step into the hallway. All I know is that I have to stop him because if I actually bear witness to him kissing Emelia, I will lose my shit.

“Emelia,” I call from just outside my doorway, and it comes out way harsher than I intended. The douchebag takes a step back and turns to look at me while Emelia peeks out and around his shoulder.

“Max?” She looks startled by my outburst and worried. “Is Xander okay?” Yup, totally worried. I’m a dick for scaring her like that, but I don’t care. All I care is that his hands are not on her. What the fuck am I supposed to say now? I look back and forth between her and this joke of a guy who’s glaring at me now.
Why don’t you come over here and do that to my face, asshole?
I think as I stare him down. I focus my attention back on Emelia and make a decision. Fuck it.

“I need to see you. Now,” I say tipping my head in the direction of my door. Her eyes go wide, and she gives me a slow nod before she turns to her date.

“Thank you so much for tonight, Sean.”

He eyes her with stunned surprise, and I bite back laughter. He can’t believe she’s going to walk away from him to come to me. He obviously considers himself a catch, and it’s a hit to his ego for her to shut him down like this.

“Ah, yeah. I … I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Sure.” She moves away from him taking a couple steps closer to me. “Drive safe.” She ends the conversation and makes her way over to me. She reaches my door; douchebag Sean hasn’t moved, his glaring eyes are on me, and I’m loving every minute of this.

“What’s wrong?” she questions. A hint of fear is in her voice, but I don’t answer her. Instead, I shake my head once and reach out grabbing her hand and pulling her into my apartment. I make sure to glare over my shoulder at her now fuming date before I shut the door.

“Max, what is wrong? You’re scaring me.” Her eyes are wide, the stormy blue looking even more unsettled.

“How was your date?” I ask keeping down the sarcasm and jealousy.

“It … it was fine.”

“It was fine?” I ask, but it comes out as more of a statement with just a hint of a threat laced underneath. This girl is not going to know what hit her in a minute. I’m sorry for that, but I’m through fighting it. I want her, and I don’t give a fuck how young she is anymore. If she gives me the slightest indication that she feels something for me, I’m taking my shot.

“Yes.” She responds barely above a whisper, and I like that. I like her voice soft like that. It makes me wonder what it would sound like with me buried inside of her. I place a hand on her stomach and give a gentle shove sending her back a step.

“Did he touch you?”

“Max.”

“Did. He. Touch. You?” I ask dipping my head so that my lips are at her ear.

“No.”

“Did you kiss him, Emelia?”

“No, Max. What’s going on?” she questions as I give her another shove. Her back hits the door, and I move in a step closer.

“He was about to kiss you,” I tell her, but it sounds like an accusation. She steels her spine and juts her chin out. My brave girl.

“Yes. He was.”

“I didn’t like it.”

Her eyes flare at my revelation, and I can see she’s starting to get it now.

“Why not?” Her head tilts at the question. Curiosity is beginning to grab a hold of her.

“Because
I
want to kiss you.”

“Max,” she murmurs on a jagged intake of breath.

“Because
I’m going
to kiss you.”

“Max,” she whispers again, placing her hands on my chest.

“Because I think you’d rather have me kiss you too,” I tell her, letting my eyes fall on her parted lips. Her breath comes in quick, short bursts; my hands go to the door one on either side of her head, caging her in. My head descends and she gives my chest a gentle shove, but I push against them and carry on. The moment my mouth touches hers, I know I’m done for. The flip switches and I ignite, coaxing her lips to part wider for me, and I take everything I can from her. It doesn’t take long for her to respond; her hands positioned on my chest grip my shirt and she starts to kiss me back. Her tongue slides into my mouth, and it takes all of my control not to pick her up and carry her into my bedroom. Her participation tells me that she wants this as badly as I do. When she whimpers for me, it’s like an invisible rope being thrown around me and tugging me in, cementing this connection between us. None of my bullshit reasons or excuses matter anymore. Emelia is life, and I’m taking every piece of her that she’ll let me have.

Emelia~

I’m having an out-of-body experience. It’s as if every single fantasy I’ve had for the last four months has come true completely out of the blue. One minute, I’m with Sean … sweet, boring Sean, and the next minute, I’m being pulled into Max’s apartment, pinned against a wall, and kissed like we’re the last two people on earth and he needs me to breathe. I don’t fight it; maybe it’s stupid, maybe I should fight it, but this is Max.
Oh. My. God. This is Max … Kissing ME!!! And it’s good. So, so, so good.
After all these months of being in the friend zone, I couldn’t stop it if I tried. When he finally ends the kiss, I immediately miss him, want more of him … need more of him. He leaves me breathless and immobile; it’s the most amazing feeling in the world.

He runs his hands through my hair then cups my face forcing my eyes to meet his. I like what I see there. If I had to guess, I’d say the expression in his eyes mirrors mine. Slowly, my hands at his shirt start to unclench and my breath begins to regulate.

“I’m giving you one night to decide.”

He mesmerizes me, but I manage to murmur. “Decide what?”

“Whether you want to be mine or not.” I stare at him wide-eyed, mouth open and totally caught off guard. How did we go from kissing to him proclaiming me as his in the span of five minutes?

“Oh, my god.” Oh, my god, did I just say that out loud?

He grins at me and strokes my cheek with the pad of his thumb. My eyes close of their own accord then slowly flutter open. “I’ve stayed away from you because you’re young. You don’t deserve to get tied down with a guy like me, and a baby that’s not yours,” he says, and I want to shove him. How can he say that? How could he think that pursuing a relationship with him would be tying me down? I love Xander, and I could never see him as a burden. And what does he mean by
a guy like me?

“Max.”

“Emelia, take tonight, okay? Sleep on it. If you want to explore what’s between us, I’m not going to fight it anymore. If you don’t, then we’ll keep our relationship exactly the way it was before that kiss. Strictly platonic.”

“I think ...”

“Tomorrow,” he says stroking my cheek again.

Fuck, he’s frustrating. I just want to kiss some more, and he’s trying to kick me out so I can think about shit. I ponder this theory … Maybe he’s right, maybe that’s exactly what I need. This came out of nowhere, and my head is spinning. No, really. I actually feel like a dizzy teenage girl. Trying to start a relationship with Max would change everything. What if it goes bad, then what happens with Xander? He can be a real asshole, so the potential for catastrophe is definitely there. Will he keep me away from the baby if something happens? Then again, life is too short not to go after the things that you want and I want him. I’ve wanted him on some level from the moment I saw him.

“All right. Tomorrow,” I concede. Thinking that maybe we both need to think this through. There’s risk on his part too. He nods his head then kisses me one more time—softer, sweeter this time. Just as nice but totally different.

“Tomorrow night, pizza,” he says letting me go and reaching for the doorknob. I nod my head and step out of the way allowing him space to open the door. “Go before I change my mind,” he growls, and I feel that everywhere. I do as he says and leave his apartment, walking the short distance across the hall to mine, open my door, and let myself in. I shut the door and never look back at Max; I can’t. The pull between us was way too strong tonight.

“What the fuck was that?” I ask nobody. My body is tingling, completely lit up, and I have no idea what to do to make it stop. I can’t call my sister to tell her about this unbelievable turn of events because it’s like three or four in the morning in London. I toss my keys and purse on the couch on my way to the bedroom thinking that sleep is the only way to shut down my body’s excitement. Going through the motions, I change out of my outfit and into a pair of loose pajama bottoms and a camisole. Once I’ve finished, I tie my hair up into a messy bun and head to the bathroom to take care of business. I’m still humming with energy by the time I turn off the lights and get into bed.

Can I really date Max? The only relationship he’s ever spoken about was the one with Keri and that wasn’t even a relationship. Far from it. She was his fuck buddy and nothing more until she became the mother of his son. Even then, he’s admitted he didn’t love her. It makes me wonder if he’s ever had a real relationship. He must have because how does a thirty-two-year-old man go through life without making any connections? The only friend he ever speaks of is his boss, Jack. Maybe these are the effects of a messed up childhood. Who am I to talk? The truth is I don’t have many friends either. I hang out with some of the girls at work from time to time, but that’s mostly so I can mask the loneliness I feel when I’m not with Xander and Max. I can lie here and think about it until I’m blue in the face. I can let it run circles around my mind for the whole night, but really, there is no decision to be made … is there? No. There’s not. The decision was made the moment Max pinned me against the door and took that kiss. He knows it; I know it, and I want it. Catastrophic or not, I want it. I’ll take whatever pieces of him I can get and hope that it’s enough. I’ll hope it’s not temporary and that the promise of him lives up to the daydream.

The phone on my nightstand shrills loudly, unapologetically waking me up. It’s still the middle of the night, and I know exactly who it is. Any time I’ve gotten a phone call like this over the past few months, it’s always been him.

“Garrett, what do you want?” I don’t even try to mask the extreme annoyance in my voice. This is getting beyond out of control and I’m over it.

“You think you’re so much fucking better than me. Is that it?” he snarls into the line with an undeniable menace in his voice.

“What are you talking about?”

“You may think your father can keep me away from you, but you’re wrong. I’m not done with you yet.”

His words send a chill down my spine because I believe him. He can’t handle the fact that someone said no to him. He hates that I’ve denied him, and he won’t take a hit like that to his ego. Winning has been ingrained into his psyche in a way that failure is not an option. Not ever.

“Well, I’m done with you. Leave me alone or I’ll get a restraining order.”

“You little bitch,” he spits out just as I hang up the phone and turn it off. I’m practically trembling after his call and sitting here in the dark is not helping. I throw back the covers and go to the windows making sure each and every single one is locked. It’s probably overkill, but I check the lock and the deadbolt on the door as well. Only when I’ve made sure I’m locked in tight do I feel safe again.

I lie down on the couch, turn on the TV, and grab the throw from the back of the couch to pull over me. I could tell my father that he’s called yet again, but I stopped doing that two months ago. What good is it going to do? Garrett doesn’t care about my father’s threats; he’s just going to keep calling. Plus, telling my father means it will only get back to my mother and then I have to hear her skewed opinion about it. I’ve gotten by with only seeing her three times in the four months I’ve been here, and I don’t want to add any more fuel to her ever-burning fire. I’ll just handle this on my own. Hopefully, Garrett will get bored and leave me alone, but if he doesn’t, I’ll make good on my threat and get a restraining order. Whatever happens, I’m never going to let him touch me again.