After a few moments of pure ecstasy that leaves me feeling breathless and dazed, Max sits up and reaches over to his nightstand. I watch his chest rise and fall as he pulls a condom from the drawer. He brings it to his mouth and rips it open with his teeth before reaching down between us.
He peers down at me and runs his tongue along his lips, his eyes focused on mine as I reach up to pull him back down to me. I lift my face to meet him and kiss him again, feeling my growing addiction to Max hit an all-time high. He places a hand on either side of my shoulders and slowly lowers himself into me. I gasp and my fingers grasp his sides, digging into his clenched muscles as I continue to stare up into his eyes, working to prevent myself from saying something I won’t be able to take back.
Sex with Max is slightly painful and a little awkward as my brain occasionally attempts to decipher what I should or shouldn’t be doing, but it’s also exhilarating and enormously fulfilling.
Afterward, Max lies stretched out on his side with me firmly pressed to his front so we’re facing one another. He trails kisses along my forehead and nose, down to my mouth, replacing hungry kisses from moments ago with soft tender kisses as his fingers trace up and down my back.
Max climbs off of the bed and returns with a wet washcloth. I quickly sit up and mumble a few awkward words before escaping to the bathroom to clean myself up, grateful that I have my overnight bag in here. I pull on some clean underwear and pajamas and lean against the counter as I catch sight of myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes are bright as I soak in my appearance. I’ve never thought of myself as being particularly attractive, especially compared to my sisters, but in this moment I feel beautiful.
I find Max changing the sheets when I come back out and feel completely mortified for a brief moment before he stops and turns to me, wearing a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips. I swallow a joke about the fact that I obviously hadn’t slept with Pedro when Max crushes his lips to mine and runs a hand through my hair.
“God, you’re perfect.” He presses a soft kiss to my forehead before he lifts me up and carries me to the bed where we wrap around each other in a tight tangle of limbs.
A few hours later I wake up to find Max pacing across the wooden floors of his bedroom. A nervous panic rolls up my spine. He looks troubled and frustrated. I debate whether I should let him know I’m awake, or pretend that I’m asleep as fear resonates within me.
Before I can decide, his eyes sweep over to me and he stops, mid step. I slowly sit up, letting the sheet fall, revealing my black tank top. “What’s wrong?” I ask quietly as my heart thrums.
“Everything,” Max responds, rubbing a hand down his face.
Fear grips me as rejection and anger sear through my veins. Thoughts and realizations form faster than I can process or stop them.
I feel his eyes on me as I close the bathroom door and swiftly dress. My brain warns me of a silent countdown taking place, alerting me that I need to get out of here before the emotions I vigilantly work to keep suppressed burst. I wrench the door open, holding my bag, and throw my clutch inside before striding to the bedroom door without looking back at Max.
I’m nearly down the entire flight of stairs before he catches up to me.
“What are you doing?” he asks, grabbing my arm. I don’t turn to look at him as I jerk my arm free and make my way to Jameson’s room. I scrape my fist against the door.
“Ace, what the hell?” Max demands, reaching for my arm again. Before he can touch me I move further to the side and bang against the door with more force.
Jameson opens the door, his eyes half closed with sleep. He runs a hand over his messy blond hair, looking confused.
“Is Kendall in there?”
“Ace?” I hear her voice filled with panic. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“I just need my keys.”
“I’ll come with you,” she says, throwing back the covers.
“No, stay. I need to think,” I reply, mostly to myself. Kendall nods, looking reluctant, and I move my focus to her hands as she fishes through her purse.
I tightly grip the keys as she gives them to me and turn back to the door where Jameson stands, looking completely dumbfounded. I make a wide berth around him and Max and head straight for the front door.
Another door opens behind me, and I hear Landon ask if everything’s okay. Tears pool in my eyes as I run the last few steps out of the house, barefoot. The fact that Max doesn’t follow me past Jameson’s bedroom door answers my fear. This was a mistake. We were a mistake.
The anger that had kept the tears at bay while inside the house quickly recedes to pain as the countdown continues to fall and tears stream down my face. Traces of dark eye makeup cover my fingers and the back of my hands as I swipe at the relentless tears.
I don’t even think. My brain is on autopilot, needing comfort and security. I’m already on the freeway, heading toward the only destination that can meet those needs. Home.
I silently make my way into the house and disarm the alarm, but Zeus isn’t about to let me go unnoticed. He lumbers down the stairs, barking before he even sees me. My voice is thick with tears as I call to him, trying to calm him down.
Dad flips on the lights, following closely behind Zeus, wearing his robe over a San Diego State T-shirt and matching sweatpants. When he sees me his concern is evident and my countdown hits zero. He wraps me in his arms and my shoulders heave as I grip his robe with both hands to keep myself upright. I bury my face in the soft polyester and feel him take my weight.
“David, what’s going on?” Mom asks, coming down the stairs. Neither of us responds as she rushes over and soothingly rubs my back.
“Ace, what happened, sweetheart? Did someone hurt you? Are you okay?”
I sniff and nod, not able to formulate words yet. Each time I try to speak, the words seem to get caught in my throat and I just cry harder.
After about twenty minutes of my mom bustling about, offering different remedies and trying to coax me to speak to her, Dad convinces her to go back to bed.
He holds me, allowing me to cry until my head throbs and my eyes burn. I feel exhausted, both physically and emotionally, as he wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his chest, shielding me as he leads me into the kitchen.
He reaches into the cabinet above the fridge and extracts an amber bottle and pours two fingers in a glass tumbler before retrieving a bottle of ibuprofen. Three pills fall into my palm and he hands me the glass. I don’t hesitate, swallowing it all in one toss and wincing at the burn of bourbon.
He fills my now empty cup up with water, and we wordlessly trudge up the stairs.
“Il sera bien ma belle fille,” Dad says quietly when we reach the top of the stairs. I want to acknowledge his words that everything will be okay, but I don’t. I can’t.
“Do you want me to stay with you? Or you can lie with mom?” I shake my head, needing some space. “Je t’aime mon, Ace,” he says quietly.
“I love you too, Dad,” I whisper. He hugs me close, placing a kiss in my hair before he watches me turn into my room.
I gather some clean pajamas and head to the bathroom where I turn the shower on and wait for it to get hot enough that the steam billows out. I strip out of my clothes, noticing a small trace of blood on my underwear, and kick them aside, making a new rivulet of tears to fall. I step in the tub, letting the hot water flow over me, joining my tears as I begin washing Max from my body.
The next day I wake up with a dull headache that feels worse than any hangover and find Zeus lying in front of my bed protectively and my mom holding a tray filled with food.