The Storm Before the Calm (12 page)

“What are you doing tonight?” I asked when the kiss ended.

“I have to work my other job,” he replied.

“Oh.”

“Why, Sparky? What’s up?”

I shrugged. “I thought maybe you’d want to come over tonight. I thought I could make dinner and we could watch a movie or something.”

“Like a stay-in date?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Aren’t you staying with your aunt? Are you okay having a date with her around?”

“Oh, God no. I mean, yes, I’m staying with her. She’s out of town this weekend, though.”

“Oh, is she now?” Max waggled his eyebrows at me. “And you want to sneak your boyfriend in while she’s outta town?”

There was humor in his voice, but what struck me the hardest was his use of the word “boyfriend.” Was that what he was to me? I hoped so. Despite my misgivings about telling people about us, I loved the sound of it.

“Maybe I do,” I teased back, delighted at the lightness of our banter.

“Can we rain check on it? I’d love to, but I can’t get outta working with short notice like this.”

I nodded. “Sure. She’s gone until Wednesday morning. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Definitely tomorrow, and no classes Monday means we can sleep in.” Max paused. “Actually, do you wanna come with me tonight?”

“Don’t you work at a club?”

“I do.”

The tips of my ears pinked up. “I can’t. I’m not old enough.”

“Oh, Sparky. You leave that to me.”

“Won’t I be in the way, though?”

“Not at all,” Max assured me. “I’ll keep you backstage so you can watch. No one will know you’re there.”

“Backstage?”

“Yeah. I’m pole dancing tonight.”

I can’t imagine what the look on my face must have been. I just about swallowed my tongue. Of course I’d never been to a strip club before, but we did have cable. Suddenly, images of Max peeling clothing off piece by piece flashed through my mind. I was instantly pulled in two directions: horniness and jealousy.

Max laughed. “Not like that. Here. Let me show you.”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him, out of the room and up the stairs to the third floor.

Chapter Thirteen

I’
D
FORGOTTEN
about the pole room after my initial tour of the studios, but here it was, mirrors all along one wall, poles spaced evenly throughout the rest of the space. Max let go of my hand, dragged one of the folding chairs to the front, and told me to sit.

I did as I was told, unsure of what was about to happen. Unsure, yet excited. With Max, I was up for anything.

I watched, absolutely frozen in place, as he peeled his shirt off over his head and then pushed his pants down over his hips, leaving nothing but skin-tight black undies and an expanse of tight olive skin. My mouth was dry, and my eyes were glued to him as he glanced over at me, shrugged, and said, “Bare skin is better for friction on the pole.”

I had no idea if that was true or not, but he wouldn’t be hearing any complaints from me. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. I’d felt his body beneath his clothing when we kissed, but I’d never seen what he looked like, bared to me. He was so beautiful.

He sauntered over to the stereo and hit the button to start the music. It filled the room, and he immediately slipped into character, his movements fluid and developed. I watched him glide across the floor and wind himself around the metal pole, his feet lifting easily.

He wrapped his legs around the pole, his body still moving with the momentum he had created as his arms stirred the space around him. He lowered himself back down, planting his feet gracefully on the floor as he walked to the next pole and, gripping it tightly, turned his body upside down. Hooking one foot around, he extended his body, creating an exquisite line of muscles and sinew. I couldn’t imagine the strength it took to hold that position, but Max made it look effortless.

My fingers felt tingly, and all I wanted to do was touch him, to run my hands over the hard planes of his body and feel the thrum of his heart in his chest. He wrapped his legs around the pole and arched back, his body falling perpendicular, spinning as he reclined. He looked at me, a hint of mischief in his gaze.

He righted himself and walked toward me, a wicked grin on his face.

“See? Innocent.”

“Uh-huh,” I said.

“You thought it was going to be something dirty, didn’t you?”

I couldn’t answer him. My brain was scrambled as he approached me and dramatically swung his leg over and sat down, straddling my lap as I sat in the chair. Our chests were pressed together, and at this angle he was a good six inches taller than me. I looked up to answer him, but before I could, he kissed me. His tongue pushed into my mouth, and I groaned, overcome with desire the moment I felt the warm slide of his skin against mine.

“You can touch me, Charlie,” Max breathed.

I didn’t have to be asked twice. I slid my hands up his back, marveling at the smoothness of his skin and the power of his muscles as they bunched and shifted beneath my palms.

He pulled back, tugging at the hem of my T-shirt. “Can we get rid of this? Please? I want to see you,” Max said, and I was helpless to resist him. I nodded and shifted in the seat to allow him room to lift it up and over my head. He leaned back.

“Charlie?” he asked. The lust that had been dripping from his voice moments before had vanished.

I glanced down, my hormone-addled brain still trying to catch up when I realized what had stopped him in his tracks. White scars and angry red marks marred the skin along my ribs. I had been so caught up in Max that I had forgotten my secret.

I tried to grab my shirt back and get up from the chair, but Max pinned me down, his weight keeping me in place.

“Charlie, what is this?”

My face was aflame. I didn’t want to explain it to him. There was no way he would understand. Hell,
I
didn’t even understand. But the way he was sitting there looking at me, wide open and expectant, I couldn’t lie.

“I did that.”

“You gave yourself the scars?”

“Yeah….” My voice was so quiet it was almost lost behind the music that was still playing in the background.

“You wanna tell me why?”

I shrugged. I didn’t. I didn’t want him to know how broken I was. He had this image of who I was—skewed as it may have been—and I didn’t want him to find out the truth of why I had hurt myself. It was stupid and reckless and the only thing I could do to keep my sanity back home. There was no way he was ever going to understand that.

I braced myself as I shook my head. This was going to be the end. I should have known better than to allow myself even a little bit of hope that things might work out between us. We were from different cities and might as well have been from different planets. He was this attractive, confident, put-together man who had a bright and wonderful life ahead of him. I was a busted-up nobody on vacation from his real life, with dreams of becoming something he could never be.

“I told you I would never push you. But I’d really like it if you told me why. Not today, but maybe someday you’ll feel comfortable enough to tell me the truth?”

I felt him shift and stand before I realized my eyes were closed, squeezed shut, as though I were bracing myself against a beating. I felt bereft as he stood, and my heart sank. He was going to walk away. I opened my eyes, and to my amazement he was standing in front of me, his eyes a little glassy.

He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against my chest. His fingers traced the white lines hatched across my ribs as he kissed my skin over and over.

It was as though he thought he could heal me with those kisses, and in a way I felt like he almost could. I felt a tear slip down my cheek, and I hadn’t even realized I’d been crying. I was such a fuckup. What had started as a sexy, carefree afternoon had turned into me wallowing and crying like a little kid.

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand as Max stood in front of me. He circled my wrist with his hand, pulled me to my feet, and wrapped me in his arms. He kissed me again, slowly and thoroughly.

“You’ll tell me when you’re ready?” he asked softly.

I nodded. I didn’t know if I would ever be ready, but I wanted him to know as far as people I trusted went, he was near the top of my list.

“Good.”

W
E
SPENT
the rest of the afternoon dancing and talking and just being together. I’d never felt like this before, and the threat of the looming end-of-summer deadline, even though it was still a ways away, was beginning to creep its way into the edges of my consciousness.

I didn’t want to give this up. I felt like I’d finally found somewhere I belonged, but I couldn’t stay. I knew very well if I told my mother how I felt about New York, she’d insist I move in with Ginny. I couldn’t. My mom had been selfless my entire life, and now it was my turn to do something for her. Going home, getting a job, and helping out was to be my first priority. It had to be.

Five o’clock rolled around before I knew it, and Max and I did one last run-through before we changed, gathered our things, and headed out.

“I’m excited you’re coming with me tonight,” Max said, squeezing my hand as we walked down Fourteenth Street. “I’ll pick you up around eight?”

“You’re going to come all the way uptown to get me?” I asked.

“Of course. I don’t want you getting lost on the way to Romeo’s.”

I grinned at the thought. It was almost like we were going on a date… but… not. Still, I was excited to go out with Max in any capacity.

“I need your address,” Max said, handing me a pen and holding his hand out palm up for me to write on. I gripped his wrist and wrote it down for him.

“It’s pretty close to the subway station.”

Max nodded. “I know where that is. Near Riverside Park.”

“Yeah!” I’d seen the park out my aunt’s windows but hadn’t had a chance to go yet. I put it on my mental to-do list, my mind wandering to what it would be like to stroll through the park hand in hand with my boyfriend. I dismissed the thought immediately. It was too close to home to risk Ginny seeing us out her window. Unless… we could go the next day while she was still out of town. Suddenly the possibilities came in a wave.

“Good. Okay, I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Max glanced side to side in an exaggerated movement, looking to see if anyone was watching, and then leaned forward, kissing me soundly on the mouth.

“Okay,” I said. My voice sounded a little dreamier than I’d intended, but even after days and days of make-out sessions with Max, he still managed to make my knees feel less than stable.

Chapter Fourteen

I
STOOD
in front of my closet, flicking through hanger after hanger, unable to decide on what to wear. I had no idea what people usually wore to a club, and even if I did, I wasn’t actually going
into
the club. Just backstage.

I reached in, picking up a pair of jeans and a black tank from the shelf above. I hoped I’d fit in well enough. I got dressed and sauntered to the bathroom to do my hair. I grabbed the gel from my bag and kind of spiked my hair up a little, tousling it and making it look a bit messy. It was more effort than I usually put in, but it felt right. It only took me a few minutes to get ready, but I spent an infinite amount of time in front of the mirror, staring, evaluating, deciding. In the end, I figured it wouldn’t matter much either way. I didn’t have any other clothes I thought would work, and as for my appearance, there wasn’t much I could do about that either.

Max texted me at eight on the dot to let me know he was downstairs. I hurried to grab my shoes and go down to meet him. I nodded briefly to the night doorman behind the desk and pushed the door open to walk out to where Max was waiting on the sidewalk for me.

“Sparky,” Max said, a weird tightness in his voice. He stepped closer without touching me, which made me both grateful and disappointed at the same time. “You look… I wanna touch you so bad.”

I swallowed hard and resisted the urge to nod. I wanted him to touch me too, but not here. I didn’t think Ginny was as close with the night doorman as she was with Henry, but I didn’t want to take any chances he or one of the neighbors might out me to my aunt.

“Let’s get going. I’m going to get you somewhere I can kiss you before I lose my mind,” Max muttered.

I followed as he marched down the street, determination in his steps. We made it to the subway in record time and were sitting on the train a few moments later. Max slid his knee against mine, a wicked look on his face as he leaned in, whispering dirty things in my ear. We were surrounded by people, and he was turning me on. My cheeks heated. He knew exactly what he was doing to me, and he liked it.

“How long will it take to get to Romeo’s?” I asked, hoping to distract him from his teasing.

“We should be there in fifteen minutes. It’s not too far from here.”

We were already nearing Columbus Circle.

Max was right, and in fifteen minutes, almost to the second, we were standing in front of a nondescript brick building with two short staircases leading up to two sets of black double doors. It wasn’t yet nine o’clock, but there were people lined up in between red velvet ropes almost beyond the edge of the building. Three beefy-looking men stood at the doors, arms crossed over their expansive chests, staring down the crowd that spread before them.

“Early birds,” Max said, pulling me along to the side door set into the alcove of the wall, left of the staircases. He pulled keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door, using his key to pull it open as there was no doorknob. He ushered me inside, down a narrow set of concrete stairs, and led me through a hallway to a dressing room.

“Doesn’t look like much from the outside, huh?” Max said.

“Not really. But I’m guessing lots of people like it. It seems to be busy already.”

“Meh, Saturdays are usually a bit nuts. They haven’t opened the doors yet. They won’t for another half hour or so.”