Pieces of Him (19 page)

“I can’t go again.” Max groans into one of my pillows, and I burst into a fit of giggles. He peeks up at me with humor and exhaustion in his eyes.

“Okay. I can wait,” I tease, plopping back down beside him in the bed.

“Baby, you’re sex crazy. I think I’m done for the night. I need food, sleep, and a few hours of recovery before I can fuck you again.”

“I can give you all that,” I tell him, placing a kiss on his lips. “But I’ll need at least one more round in the morning.”

He’s the one bursting into laughter now, reaching out and wrapping an arm around me to pull me to his side. “You’re out of control.”

“Maybe a little.” I snuggle further into him then quickly realize that I’m actually pretty hungry too. Lots of amazing sex takes a lot out of you, I guess. “How hungry are you?”

“I could eat.”

“Too tired to leave this apartment?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“I pass by this diner up the street all the time. It says on the sign that they’re open twenty-four hours, and I really want an omelet.”

“An omelet, huh?” he questions with a smirk. I nod my head in the crook of his neck and place a gentle kiss there. “I could go for an omelet.” He disengages from me, expertly angling out of the bed and taking me with him as if I were light as a feather. Once he sets me on my feet, he releases me and we dress silently. I head to my dresser, pick up a hair tie, and quickly knot my hair into a messy bun.

“You ready?”

“Yes.” He tags my hand when I walk back to him and wastes no time in grabbing his keys and leading me out of the apartment.

“I didn’t grab my purse.”

“You don’t need it.” He replies in a way that I know leaves no room for discussion. When we hit the parking lot, he opens the car door for me closing it once I’m safely inside. I love that he’s a gentleman; it makes me feel like he respects me. The headlights from his car cut through the deserted night. It feels like he and I are the only two people in the world right now. It’s almost as if the world exists only for us so that we could be together. The rest of the world can have the daylight … with Max, I’ll take the night any time.

The diner is practically empty when we arrive. The waitress tells us we can sit wherever, so we take a booth in the back away from the few customers that are there. We order western omelets with cheese; he gets an orange juice while I get a steaming cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream. His easy demeanor, his cool attitude, and the fact that he’s so tough on the exterior mesmerizes me, but inside—once you get beneath the surface—there’s real beauty there. It’s surprising and exhilarating to be able to experience that firsthand.

“Sometimes, I’m surprised at how nice you can be.”

I watch in utter fascination how his features change, how his face lights up with humor and the muscles of his neck bulge slightly when he throws his head back and laughs. His laughter dies down, but the humor in his eyes remains when he speaks.

“I was really that bad, huh?”

“Kind of.”

“You have to understand, baby. My mom left when I was young and you already know that my father was a dick. That’s all I knew growing up; it’s all I had. I never had a gentle touch, someone to take care of my scrapes and bruises, or make sure I had food in my stomach. No one gave a shit if I went to school or did my homework or went to bed at a decent time. I’m cold because all I ever got was cold.”

“But you’re not cold … not really. Not with Xander, not …”

“With you.” He finishes my sentence as if he wants to reassure me of the validity of this claim. It’s as if he’s telling me that he’s giving me beyond what he believes he’s capable of giving. That I’m worth him trying to be a better person, that Xander is worth it. I want to throw my arms around him and hug him, but I don’t.

“Yeah.”

“You shock the shit out of me too, you know?” he says, after taking a bite of his food.

“I do?” My eyebrow rises in question. I’m curious as to how I’ve managed to shock him at all.

“Yeah. The way that you got in my face that first day … Not many people would step up to me that way.”

“You pissed me off,” I tell him, remembering how horrible I felt after that first encounter.

“Yeah and the way you stopped Dana from taking Xander that day. You can be pretty badass.”

“I have my moments,” I say with I’m sure what amounts to a smug look on my face.

“I like it.” His eyes flash with something warm, something l like a whole hell of a lot. I like the way his approval makes me feel; not because I need it but because I’m learning I want it. Wanting that from him, wanting anything substantial from him or anyone, scares me because dreaming too big can lead to big failures.

“You’re saying it’s okay for me to get in your face all the time?” I joke, needing to shake the negative thoughts from my head.

“No. What I’m saying is that I like that you’re not afraid to tell me when I’m being a dick.”

“No girl has ever called you out on your asshole ways?”

“Not if they wanted me to give them the time of day.”

“Wow. I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that.”

He chuckles and shakes his head at me, taking a bite out of his toast with not a care in the world. Dammit, he’s sexy. He’s weaving a web, and with every day that passes, I get more and more stuck in it. So stuck I might never be able to get free … The truth is I don’t want to get free.

Emelia~

I’ve never had this much sex, ever. In the weeks since our first time together, Max and I have barely come up for air. I’ve spent most of my nights here at his place since Xander’s things are here. I work my days at the center and look forward to my evenings with my boys. Most nights, I cook dinner when I get home then take it over to Max’s place when he gets home from work. The nights I watch Xander, I just cook over there. After dinner, we relax by the television and snuggle up to a movie until Xander goes to bed. That’s when Max and I take our snuggling to the bedroom where we do way more enjoyable things.

Most nights, I remember to turn the ringer on my cell phone to silent. I do this so that Max won’t realize Garrett is still calling me in the middle of the night. At first, he’d call sporadically and though it was annoying and at times alarming, it wasn’t happening with enough frequency for me to be really worried about it. Once I threatened him with a restraining order, the calls stopped … briefly. Then they picked up starting out two or three times a week, but since I never pick up the phone, it’s gotten to the point where they’re happening two, three, sometimes four times a night. Garrett appears to be getting increasingly impatient with me, but I’ve yet to mention anything to Max about it. I don’t want him flying off the handle and doing something stupid when he has Xander to worry about. So I always, always make it a point to set my phone to silent … except tonight. Tonight, I completely forgot about it, so now that my phone is ringing at god only knows what time of the night, Max is up and has my cell in his hand in what seems like a split second while I stare completely frozen.

“Hello.” His tone is clipped, he levels his angry eyes on me, and I can feel the tension radiating from his body. “Hello,” he repeats; this time, more forcefully if that can be believed.

“No, you can’t speak to Emelia. Who is this and why are you calling my girl at one in the morning?” I hear yelling on the other side of the phone though I can’t make out what’s being said. I’m fairly certain that Garrett is making it known that he’s not thrilled about some man answering my phone and calling me his girl.

“Your girl? I find that hard to believe seeing as though she’s been in my bed every night this month.”

Holy shit. I can’t believe he just said that. I
cannot believe
he just said that. My stomach drops because I know that Garrett is losing his mind right now, and if he loses his mind, there’s no telling what he’s capable of doing.

“She told me you’ve been calling her even after she told you she didn’t want you to. You need to stay the fuck away from her.” He breaks his gaze from me, flips the covers off him, and is up and out of the bed in a flash. “Because if you don’t, I will find you and I’ll make it so that you
can’t
come near her.”

I watch silently as he paces the length of the bed.

“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise. Do not test me,” he growls, hits the disconnect button, and flings the phone onto the bed with a little more force than I’m comfortable with.

“This the first time he called?” His brows are furrowed and his hands interlock behind his head as if he’s fighting for patience. Everything about his posture is scary aggressive, and even though I know Max would never hurt me, I’m too alarmed to speak.

“Answer me.” The boom of his voice makes me jump. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like you have anything to be scared of with me. You know better.”

Quietly, I reply, “I know.”

“I’m angry, but that doesn’t mean I’d do anything to hurt you.”

“I know.” I look down at my hands, watching them as they fidget with the edge of the blanket. A nervous habit, I guess. “You just took me off guard.”

“Look at me,” he demands. I let out a breath and do as he asks. His anger is in check, I can see that. He’s not going to go flying off the handle and destroy his apartment like he did when Keri died, but it’s unnerving nonetheless. “Was that the first call, Emelia?”

“No,” I respond quickly and honestly figuring the sooner we get this conversation over with, the better. I should have told him weeks ago, but what’s done is done; I can’t take it back now.

He crosses his arms over his chest and gives me yet another glare. “How many more have there been?” he asks quietly. Too quietly, almost menacingly, and I know I need to tread cautiously, but there’s no real way around this, and I can’t lie.

“A lot.”

He breathes in through his nose, and I watch as his chest puffs out.
Holy shit.
He can barely look at me when he finally speaks.

“I’m going to take a walk.”

“Where are you going?” I question, and I’m sure I shouldn’t have asked. In fact, I’m positive it was stupid of me to ask, but I don’t want him to go anywhere. This is confirmed when I see a muscle tick in his neck and he delivers a somewhat painful blow.

“Away. From. You. I need to cool off, and I don’t want to say something I don’t mean.”

My nose stings as the tears threaten, but I refuse to cry, especially since I’m the one who did something wrong. “I fucked up, I know that, but please don’t go, Max. Just talk to me.”

“We already talked about this,” he yells. Yells at me, and it hurts; it hurts more than it should, but I don’t like him being so mad at me. He jabs a finger in my direction in accusation. “You said you’d tell me next time this shit happened.”

“I know but …”

“Now, you’re telling me that not only has this shit continued to go on with him, but you’ve been lying to me too. Lying to me for a month, Em.”

“Max.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to trust you if you lie to me?” His voice is rising, getting more and more agitated. “Would you ever have told me if I hadn’t picked up the phone?”

“Yes, Max. I was going to tell you,” I interject again trying to get him to hear me out.

“When? After he got to you? After he did something to you, hurt you?”

“No.”

How do you expect me to protect you if you don’t tell me there’s a potential threat?” he yells again.

I know his heart is in the right place, but at this juncture, I’m done. Through with his anger, through with his yelling, and through with him talking over me. I throw the sheet off me and before I can so much as think about it, I’m up, around the bed, and in his face.

“Stop.”

“Emelia.”

“No. Don’t Emelia me. Stop. This is happening to me, not you. I get it, okay? I should have said something earlier, I should have told you, but I was just afraid. I didn’t want you to get into any problems because of me.”

His body relaxes, the tension starts to dissipate, and his eyes go soft.

“Baby, I appreciate you wanting to protect me, but there are some things that you just have to trust me to handle. I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize my family.”