Breaking the Wrong (19 page)

I say three words. “I get it.”

Macsen’s face changes, and if anything, I feel closer to him. He rubs a hand down his face, and most of the water disappears. “I can still look through your answers if you want me to.”

He’s done baring a sliver of his soul. I nod my head, happy to spend more time with him.

Nervously, he rubs the back of his neck. I love his habit. “You want to come back to my place? I can look through them real quick?”

With my heart pounding, and the lightning brightening the sky, I answer him easily. “That sounds good.”

I get into my car, wipe away the rain from my face, the mascara from around my eyes and start my car. I’m protected from the rain, but I still have adrenaline running underneath my skin.

It has nothing to do with the rain this time.

I step into his apartment. Compared to the first time I was here, it’s pretty clean. There’s no smoke wafting through the air, no beer bottles littering the table. Actually, I didn’t even know they had a kitchen table. It was hard for me to find any furniture that night.

I check out the area as I wipe my feet off. In the silence and light, Macsen’s apartment seems average. 

Macsen steps in behind me and shuts the door. It’s still raining outside. I drape my jacket over a kitchen chair and drop my leather bag to the floor. Macsen is leaning against the door, bending down to untie the filthiest pair of boots I’ve ever seen. I stop watching his hands and watch his arms. They flex and bunch as he moves. I lean back in my chair and keep my eyes on him.  It feels like a fetish, to have the urge to look at someone this much. The urge never leaves. I still want to attack him like an animal.

He stands up and I pretend that I haven’t been watching him for the past minute. His smile is friendly, and he lets out a deep sigh and takes off his hat. I smile because his dark hair is now flat and conformed from his hat. No one should make hat hair look that good.

Macsen sees my smile and rubs the back of his neck. “Quit staring at my hair.”

“I think it’s cute.”

“I think you’re delusional,” he teases. “I’m gonna take a quick shower so I don’t smell like shit.” He flings a hand through the air. “Make yourself at home.”

Quietly, Macsen walks down the hall. All I hear is dresser drawers opening and closing. A few seconds later, I hear the creak of a door before it shuts. Now it’s just me and the soft tick-tock of the clock.

Honestly, I know I didn’t
need
to come over here. Macsen didn’t need to check my problems because I’m improving. The reason I’m here is purely selfish. I want him to myself. 

Macsen walks into the room dressed in black sweats. They hang low on his hips, with the drawstring tied. His gray t-shirt is clean and around the collar, water from his hair drips into the material. I watch him, and my stomach does a lurch.

A clean white towel is in his hands and he raises it before tossing it at me. “I didn’t know if you wanted to dry off or anything.”

I grab the towel and hold it to my chest. “Thanks.”

“Okay,” he sighs out and looks around. “Let me see what you worked on.”

As I dry my hair, I push my notebook toward him and watch him scan each problem slowly. I’m pleased to see that his glasses are on.

When he looks up at me, there’s a frown on his face.

“What?” I ask.

He hands me back my notebook. “You didn’t miss any. They’re all correct.”

I don’t even hide my disbelief. Dropping the towel into my lap, I lean forward and look over my answers. “I promise I got a few wrong.”

When I look back up, Macsen is staring at my cleavage, pushed up by my arms. I don’t move my arms away. I like how he’s looking at me, like his lust is controlling all of his actions. When he looks back up at my face, I hold his gaze boldly. His eyes widen slightly. I think he’s going to lean over and kiss me, but he lowers his gaze and swallows. “If you’re still unsure, we can go through some different problems.”

I don’t want to, but I nod my head anxiously. “That sounds good.”

Macsen’s gaze slips from my face, darts to the kitchen and back to me. I know he’s forming an idea in his head.

“What,” I ask anxiously. “What was that?”

His eyebrow lifts and he looks devious. “We can make a game out of this...”

My eyes narrow suspiciously. “What kind of game?”

“Ever played a drinking game?”

I move my head up and down slowly. With two wild siblings like Aniston and Eden I was subjected to a few drinking games. “Yes.”

“Good, because I’m about to make tutoring really interesting.” He jumps out of his chair and grabs two small glass cups and a green bottle of liquid with a label written in another language. Stacked in his other hand are two bottles of Coke. His hands are full, but he manages to bring all of it back to the table without breaking anything.

My eyes are glued to the tall, slim bottle. The clear liquid inside makes me nervous. “What is that?”

“This,” he slams his palm on the cap, “is Soju.”

I raise my brows and stare at him blankly.

He elaborates. “Basically, it’s Korean vodka.”

“How do you have this?”

“Chris’s dad is a major in the army,” Macsen explains. He turns the cap and lifts it away. I can smell the contents and it’s strong. “He was stationed in Korea when Chris was a little kid. I think he got hooked on the stuff and told Chris about it when he was older.”

Macsen pours a liberal amount into the cups and I’m starting to get a feeling of dread in my stomach. “So what does this drinking game have to do with studying?”

“Well,” he slides the glass over to me. “I think that we need to make things interesting.”

“How so?”

“Every time you get a problem right, I’ll take a shot. And every time you get one wrong-”

“I have to take a shot,” I finish for him dryly.

“Ah, you’re a quick learner. I’ve taught you well.” He holds the shot glass and gives me a silent toast and the Soju disappears in one quick swallow. Macsen’s eyes scrunch tight together and he makes a face.

“I’m nervous to try this stuff.”

“Don’t be.” He sits back down. “We can make yours a mixed drink. Chris’s mom, Sandra mixes her Soju, but that can be dangerous.”

“Why?”

“You don’t even realize you’re drinking and before you know it, you’re all fucked up.” He raises his wide shoulders in a gesture that says, ‘so what will it be?’

I grab the Soju and try to get an idea of what I’m dealing with. It burns traveling down my throat, and I’m sure that I’ll easily be fucked up without the mixed drink.

EMILIA

I don’t know how many drinks we’ve had. But everything is making me giggle. And I never giggle.

Macsen and I started drinking at the kitchen table. That was two hours ago and now we’re sitting on the living room floor with my notebook and math clear across the room. Macsen sits across from me. His legs are stretched out in front of him, and his arms are extended behind him with his weight resting on his palms. He looks relaxed. I want to crawl onto his lap and kiss him. I want his tongue back in my mouth, sliding against my own.

The television is turned on. It plays a show Macsen call
s
Ghost Adventure
s
. Someone shouts on the show, and I look over at the screen. “What is this show about?”

Macsen grins. “They search for ghosts, Emilia.”

I pick up my drink and take a sip. “They’re kind of dramatic.”

“It gets better. They say, ‘Dude’ and ‘Bro’ all the time.”

Giggling, I empty my glass and place it next to me. “Are you always so dirty after working?”

Macsen grins reluctantly. “No, sometimes it’s worse.” 

“I liked it,” I confess. “You looked good.”

He chokes on a laugh and looks down at my empty glass. “Okay, I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

Macsen stopped drinking right when we moved over to the living room. I was the one still drinking. He ended up mixing my drink and I couldn’t even taste the Soju. It tasted so good. I still wanted more. It made me feel loose. My bones felt like jello and my mouth had no barrier.

Standing up, Macsen grabs my drink and places it on the kitchen counter. I follow him and walk over to the wall separating the kitchen island and the table. Macsen wipes his hands and sighs as he looks over at me. I give him my most charming grin.

Resting his elbows on the counter, he stares at me. All I’m staring at is the smooth skin of his arms. Veins cord up his arms, creating a trail toward his biceps. I want to lift the sleeves of his shirt and see where those veins disappear.

“My brother worked with me tonight.”

I don’t want to talk about Thayer, but I nod my head. “How was it?”

“Strange,” he admits slowly. His eyes never leave my face.

“Why?”

“Because Severine sent him to talk to me.”

Warning bells are going off in my head. I place my hands on the back of the chair in front of me and steady myself. Macsen continues. “She told him to talk to me because you’re up to something.”

“Strange. Severine and I never talk,” I lie. It’s not a lie filled with deceit, just desperation. I have enough alcohol in my veins to let Macsen know I want him, but my lips aren’t that loose. I will never tell him what my plan has been. I don’t think I can. I watch him cautiously and he stares back.

“Do you believe what she told him?” I ask quietly. My buzz is instantly gone.

“Should I believe him?”

I’m leaning closer, because I feel like I’m seconds away from losing him. Boldly, I look him in the eye and touch his arm. My fingers trace those veins. Macsen stands rigid, as my hands travel up his arms and underneath the sleeves of his shirt. His skin is warm to the touch, and that clean scent is back on his body. I resist the urge to wrap my body around him and touch him everywhere. When I reach his shoulders, I rub his muscles slowly and lean into him. He groans, and his body hunches over like he’s stopping himself from moving closer.

“No,” I whisper, “you shouldn’t believe him.”

His muscles tense underneath my hand. I keep touching him, waiting for him to do the same to me. And finally, Macsen reaches up and cups my face with both hands.

He drags both hands through my hair and my heart races. My hands are shaking as I dig my fingers into his skin, pushing him closer. He obeys.

Our eyes meet for a second before he kisses me. His lips slowly move against mine, and I move my head wanting more from him. I moan when his tongue enters my mouth. It slides against my own and I impatiently push myself onto my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck. Macsen breathes swiftly through his nose, and drags his hands down my spine. When he reaches the curve of my ass, he presses me closer.

He slows the kiss and nips at my bottom lip before he pulls away, panting.

Holding me at arm’s length, he observes me intensely. “I think you’re really drunk.”

“I’m not,” I say breathlessly.

“You could regret this later and-”

I interrupt him. “Is there a party here right now?”

Macsen shakes his head and I know he’s afraid … of what, I don’t know. I’m ready to accept that the intensity will never go away until the two of us give in. And I want him to drop his fears and give in so much.

Swallowing loudly, I look him in the eye. “Are we alone?” I whisper. My fingers play with the short dark strands of his hair, and his eyes close.

“Yes,” he whispers.

“It’s just us, Macsen.” I kiss his neck and briefly suck on his skin.
When I pull back he’s panting, so close to losing control. “What are you waiting for?” I ask him.

His eyes flash open and
I see the change in him. I know he’s breaking past whatever is holding him back from me. He grabs my hand and we practically run to his room. A wide smile is on my face. I step into the room before him. Behind me, I hear the door shut. I’m plunged into darkness, unable to see anything. I wait for him to touch me. Only a few seconds pass, and I anxiously call out his name. “Macsen?”

There’s no response and I blindly step forward. I jump from shock when I feel an arm around my waist. Macsen pulls me back and I’m leaning against the hard wall of his chest.

He moves my hair to one side and kisses my neck. My body comes alive as his hand slips past the hem of my shirt, and caresses my stomach. I want him to keep going higher, but he turns me around. I see nothing, but I feel his mouth touch mine.

The kiss is frantic. I respond instantly and suck on his tongue slowly. Macsen makes a choked sound in the back of his throat and pulls away slowly. I open my eyes, and they adjust to the dark. Some light peeks in from the window, and it’s enough for me to see Macsen. His expression is hot and it creates goosebumps on my skin. “I knew you were going to torture me the first day I saw you,” he whispers gruffly. 

A small gasp escapes me when he starts to kiss his way down my throat. I tilt my head back and answer him. “How is this torture?” I croak out.