Rush (27 page)

Chapter 21

Max

Caroline dragged me home for dinner. I
was pussy enough that I really didn’t want to go—not because I didn’t want to
spend more time with her, but because I could tell her mom was none too
enthused about me. I couldn’t run away from this encounter for long, though;
not if I wanted to be part of Caroline’s life. I’d taken off when I was
sixteen. Since then, I’d learned that life isn’t about running away; it’s about
facing your fears and pushing past them. That’s the only way we grow.

So I manned up and went anyway, to make
Caro happy. And because the thought of leaving her to drive back down to Avery’s
Crossing caused me physical pain. I wanted to put it off as long as possible.

We hadn’t found any time to be alone,
except in the car, so we hadn’t done anything but kiss. As I pulled into her
parents’ driveway, the force of my craving for her struck me hard. It wasn’t so
much arousal as it was a bone-deep need.

I put the car in park and looked at her.
“I don’t know if I can wait until winter term starts.”

She gazed at me with longing. “I know
what you mean.”

“You need to drive down to see me.”

“I’ll do that. In the mean time, I’ll
try to think of a way to get some privacy.”

I leaned across to kiss her. “You taste
so good,” I whispered.

“Don’t get too excited. I think my dad’s
watching.”

Reluctantly I pulled back. “I’m getting
too desperate to care.”

She gave me a naughty smile that turned
me on as much as anything we’d done that day. “Maybe if you’re very good, I’ll
reward you later.”

“Promises, promises.”

Giggling, she opened her door. “Let’s go
and get this over with.”

Her dad was in fact standing on their
front stoop, watching us. I got out and advanced on him, extending my hand.

“Mr. Winters, I’m Max Kincaid.”

He held my gaze for an instant before
taking my hand. “Good to meet you, Max,” he said in a tone that suggested he
was reserving judgment on how good it really was.

Caroline slipped her arm through mine. “Is
dinner ready or do you and Mom need some help?”

“It’s already on the table.” He looked
at me like it was my fault we’d gotten here late.

I gave him my blandest smile, the one I
used when I wanted to finesse some authority figure. His hawk-like gaze didn’t
soften one iota. Yep, this was going to be an enjoyable dinner.

As I’d noticed before when I’d picked
her up, their house was surprisingly shabby. I’d expected Caroline to live in
some Lake Oswego McMansion, kind of like the one my dad had built for my
stepmom, except maybe not made of logs. Instead, they had a modest—very modest—seventies
ranch that looked like it might have all the original stuff. There was even a
vintage vinyl floor in the kitchen, in a pseudo-Spanish olive green and russet
color scheme. I kind of liked it.

Their dining room table was crammed into
a small dining nook off the kitchen. A cheap, brass chandelier hung above it.
The room smelled like Italian food—not surprising, with the huge blue and white
bowl of spaghetti and meat sauce in the middle of the table. Mrs. Winters
smiled politely at me.

“Hi, Max. I thought you might join us.”

“Thank you for having me.” Contrary to
the opinion of many, I did have manners and could haul them out when they were
needed.

Caroline took a seat in the middle of
the table and pulled out a chair. “Sit by me.”

I sat down as Lily and a blond boy of
the same age galloped into the room and skidded to a full stop across from us.
Both of them stared at me.

“Are you Caroline’s new boyfriend?” the
boy said.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw
Caroline turn red and start playing nervously with her silverware. Was she
ashamed of me?

My chin rose as I extended my hand
across the table to the kid. “Yeah, I am. My name’s Max.”

He took my hand with round eyes. “I’m
Landon. I’m her brother.”

“It’s good to meet you, Landon.”

“You look really different from Trent.”

“Landon,” Caroline admonished in a stage
whisper.

“Well, he does.”

I smiled at him, hoping I looked
reassuring. “That’s because I am different.”

Lily had taken the time I’d talked to
Landon to seat herself and place three tiny fairy dolls next to her plate. She
looked up from her play. “I like him better than Trent.”

Landon grimaced. “You don’t even know
him.”

“So?”

“Lily, Landon, hush up and leave Max
alone,” Mrs. Winters said. “You’re making him uncomfortable.”

The kids subsided. I winked at them and
Lily started giggling. They weren’t really bothering me at all. It was Mr.
Winters’ icy glare that was making me think accepting Caroline’s dinner
invitation had been a bad idea. He was certainly living up to his surname.

We ate in silence for a few minutes
before Winters cleared his throat. “So, Max, what are you planning to do when
you graduate?”

I looked at him with another bland
smile. “I’m going to put all my time into my business.”

His brown eyebrows climbed up his
forehead. “Business? And what business is that?” I think he suspected I was a
drug trafficker or something along those lines.

“I’m a graphic designer. I have my own
company.”

The brows rose another centimeter. “You
have your own business.”

“Yes. Graphic design.”

“And what’s the name of this business?”
he said, sounding as if he thought I was bullshitting him.

“Kincaid Design Group.”

“Group? Do you have others working with
you?”

I flushed. “No. I thought it would make
the business sound more prosperous if I named it something like that instead of
going with Max Kincaid Designs.”

“I see.”

His dry tone made me bristle. I fought
down my resentment; getting angry with Caroline’s father wouldn’t do anyone any
good.

“He’s really talented, Dad,” she said.

“Is he? Well, that’s good to hear. So
what’s your major? Art?”

“No. Business.”

I hadn’t thought his brows could get any
higher, but they did.

“You’re a business major?”

“Yes, I am.”

He put a bite of spaghetti in his mouth.
His chewing gave me a reprieve. I glanced surreptitiously at Caroline, who didn’t
seem nervous at all. She smiled at me and touched my wrist under the table.
Across from us, Lily and Landon were giggling and poking each other, apparently
oblivious to the tension in the room.

“Trent tells me you’re an occultist,”
Mr. Winters said.

Great. Here we go.

I cleared my throat. “That’s true.”

“Do you conjure demons?” he said, his
tone faintly mocking.

“That would be stupid, so no.”

“Stupid? How’s that?” He eyed me with
his fork halfway to his mouth.

“Well, if by demons you mean evil
spirits, it doesn’t seem very wise to call up something that wants to eat me
for lunch. Sir.”

“But you believe these demons exist.”

If I said yes, he’d use it against me
and if I said no, well, he’d use that against me too. I went for honesty.

“Yes, I do. I’ve experienced them.”

He stared unwaveringly at me. “Caroline
has an aunt who believes in that crap. She’s an alcoholic junkie who lives
under a bridge somewhere.”

“Yeah, Caroline told me all about Jo.”

I flicked another glance at her. She was
staring at her plate, her face red, her fork frozen in the act of twirling
spaghetti.

“I don’t know if I like the idea of my
daughter dating someone who does magic.”

I could hear the implied quotation marks
around the word magic.

“Dad!” Caroline gasped. “Don’t be like
that.”

“I understand,” I said. “It’s not
something you’re used to dealing with.”

“You one of these wackos we read about
on Halloween, the ones who believe in some goddess or other and dance naked
around bonfires?”

I smiled, and this time it wasn’t so
bland. “That depends on which goddess you’re talking about. There are so many.”

“You’re kind of a smartass, aren’t you?
Answer the question.”

“Bob, please,” Mrs. Winters said.

I put down my fork and gave Caroline’s
dad my full attention. “I believe a wide variety of spirit beings exists. My
religious beliefs are private. I think everyone has to decide for him or herself
what to believe and I have no interest in converting other people to my ways.
Does that answer your question?”

Caroline looked like she wanted to cry.
I wasn’t sure if she was more upset with me or her dad. I reached over beneath
the table and took her hand. She gave me a squeeze and I relaxed a degree. It
seemed she wasn’t angry with me for standing up to her old man.

Mr. Winters gave me a grudging nod. “I
can respect that.”

“Thank you.”

“Understand, I’m only trying to protect
my daughter.”

“I want to protect her, too,” I said.

“He saved me, Dad,” she said. “Some guys
were harassing me and there was no-one else around. I was really scared. Max
showed up and made them run off. If he hadn’t come along, I don’t know what
would have happened.”

“What do you mean, he made them run off?
How’d you do it?” The last was directed at me.

I shrugged. “Just a trick of posture and
voice projection to make myself seem more dangerous than I really am.” Also
energy manipulation, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. I was pretty sure he
wouldn’t get it and would think his impression of me as a nutcase had been
confirmed.

“I’m glad you were there,” Mrs. Winters
said.

Bob Winters repeated his unwilling nod
of acknowledgment. “Yes. Thank you for that. I appreciate you standing up for
her.”

“It was no problem at all. I was glad to
do it.” And that was the truth. It would have destroyed me if Caroline had
gotten hurt, especially if I could have done something to prevent it and hadn’t.

“Let’s have some pleasant conversation
now,” Mrs. Winters said.

I caught her eyes. “I care for Caroline
a lot.” It struck me just how inadequate those words really were. I didn’t
simply care for her.

“You don’t have to say that,” Caroline
whispered.

“Why not? It’s true. I’d never let
anything bad happen to you if I could help it.”

She looked at me, her eyes shining, and
I felt some barrier in my heart crumple and give way. I was falling for her,
fast and hard. No, that wasn’t true. I’d already fallen. I loved her.

Chapter 22

Caroline

That year’s winter break was the longest
one I could remember—not just in chronological time but in subjective time. It
felt like Max and I were apart forever instead of only three weeks. Even though
we saw each other once or twice a week, it wasn’t enough and too much of that
time was taken up with driving back and forth between Portland and Avery’s
Crossing.

On the day I got back to campus, I didn’t
even bother unpacking my stuff into my dorm room. Instead I went straight to
Max’s apartment with my suitcase.

I parked my car in the driveway behind
his and got out, popping the trunk so I could get to my suitcase. He came out
of the house just as I was lifting my bag. He wore a dark blue Henley with the
long sleeves pushed up and snug faded jeans.

I dropped the bag and ran to him.
Laughing, he caught me and lifted me in his arms as I threw my arms and legs
around him. We kissed, a long and hot caress of our mouths, and it left me
starving for more.

“I’ll get your bag and we’ll go
upstairs,” he said, his voice husky.

“Does that mean I have to get down?”

“Yes. Although right now I wish I had
four arms so I could keep holding you and carry the bag at the same time.”

I released him. My knees were wobbly
from the hotness of our kiss. “Let’s hurry.”

He grinned at me, blue eyes sparkling. “Yes,
ma’am.”

We went upstairs and into his apartment
as fast as we could move. Max set my case down on the floor at the foot of his
bed and grabbed me, pulling me against him with one arm while he clasped my
head in his other hand.

His mouth crashed down on mine. I
clutched him to me, moaning into his kiss, my body undulating against him. It
had only been a few days since my last visit and I felt like if I didn’t have
him naked against me, inside of me, within the next few minutes, I would expire
of sexual frustration.

We sank to the bed, Max tugging
impatiently at my coat. I shrugged out of it, my mouth still fused with his.
The coat ended up somewhere on the floor, my shoes, sweater and jeans following
rapidly.

He cupped my breasts through my bra and
I arched into his touch, whimpering at the pleasure of it. “You’re so
beautiful,” he said.

I was too far gone to argue with him. He
unclasped the bra and then the slightly roughened heat of his bare palms met my
flesh.

“This isn’t fair,” I said. “You still
have all your clothes on.”

He let go of me to yank his shirt over
his head. I set my hands at his waist and kissed him right between his
collarbones. He sighed. With my hands still at his waist, I continued kissing
him down and across his chest, through the thin sprinkling of black curls over
his pecs. I pushed him backward until he stretched out on the bed and then I
bent to press more kisses to his ribs.

These bones had been broken once. If I
could have kissed away all the pain he’d suffered, all the ugly memories, I
would have done it right then. But memories don’t erase so easily.

I wished there were words, something I
could say that would heal the wounds of the past.

Lifting my head, I looked into his
drowsy eyes. “I love you.”

His lips parted. He studied my face with
an air of shock, as if those were the last words he’d ever expected me to say.

“You don’t have to answer,” I said. “I
just wanted you to know.”

He lifted a hand to caress my face. “Caro,
you’re so sweet. You’re the sweetest girl I’ve ever known.”

But he didn’t love me. I could live with
that. Couldn’t I?

Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I
didn’t want the mood ruined, so I returned to kissing him, this time along the
length of his belly.

I fumbled with the button on the fly of
his jeans. He took over for me, lifting his narrow hips and skinning out of the
pants so fast I laughed. Max grinned at me and rolled me under him.

“Don’t laugh at an aroused man.”

“Or what?”

“He might eat you.” He buried his face
against my neck and growled.

I shrieked, giggling as I writhed
underneath his weight. The playful wrestling turned to passion in an instant
and soon we were moving together, our moans and cries driving us to greater and
greater ecstasy.

When his orgasm hit, he bent his head,
black hair falling forward to hide his face. “Caro—” he gasped. “Love you. Love—”

He broke off into a wordless groan, his
body shuddering in my arms. My eyes stung. He didn’t really love me; he’d only
said that to make me feel good. A false declaration of love was worse than none
at all, and I hated the way some guys would say those three words when they
didn’t mean it. I should definitely have kept my mouth shut.

Afterward, he held me against his body,
his hand stroking tenderly along the length of my back. His touch felt loving.
It had since the first time we’d been together, the first time we’d kissed.
Maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe he wasn’t lying when he’d said the L-word.

It was wrong to ask. Too clingy, too
pushy. But I needed to know or I’d drive myself crazy wondering.

I tilted my head back to see his face. “Did
you mean it?”

“Hmm?” he said sleepily, eyes closed.

“What you said...did you mean it?”

His eyes opened. He brushed a curl from
my face. “Yes, I did. I love you.”

“You didn’t have to say it just because
I did. I wasn’t trying to push you into anything.”

“I said it because it’s true. I love
you.”

I couldn’t answer. All I could manage
was a shaky little smile.

“Hey,” he said, tracing my cheekbone
with his thumb. “What’s going on?”

“I just don’t know what you see in me.”

His eyebrows lowered. “What?”

“I’m not beautiful or sexy. I’m not
witchy and cool like Selene. I’m boring. Ordinary.”

“Caro, you’re not ordinary. Trust me on
this. And you are beautiful and sexy. How could you think you’re not?” He
sounded genuinely puzzled.

I flicked one of my curls. “This stupid
hair of mine, for one.”

“I love your hair.”

I snorted. “You do not.”

He lifted himself up on one elbow. “Yes,
I do. Why don’t you like it?”

Was he for real? “It’s all fuzzy and it
never does what I want it to do. It looks like a mess of snakes on my head.”

“But it’s interesting. It’s not like
anyone else’s hair.”

I rolled my eyes. “Exactly. That’s the
problem. Maybe I should get it straightened.”

“Don’t you dare.”

I frowned at him. “You really like it?”

“Yes. I love it. I love how
unpredictable it is.” He pulled a curl out until it straightened, then released
it and watched it spring back into its usual corkscrew shape.

“My mom’s hair is exactly the same,
except she works really hard to make it straight. I think she uses, like, fifty
different products to make it look all smooth and shiny.”

“Yours is better. It’s wild and sexy,
like you.”

I gave him a skeptical look and he
grinned.

“You were sexy the minute I met you and
the wild...well, you’re getting there.”

“You’re crazy, Max,” I said, poking him
gently in the belly.

“I’m glad I met you. I’m glad you’re
here.” He kissed my neck. “I love you, Caroline Winters.”

***

I woke suddenly. My heart was racing and
I didn’t know why. The light in the room had faded and there was nothing left
of it but a weak gray glow. It looked cold and unfriendly, and a chilly draft
blew across the bare wood of Max’s floor. I shivered.

Max was sitting up in bed next to me,
staring at the wall. His faded blue comforter had fallen around his waist, so
he was bare on top in the cold room. His shoulders were slumped, his back
curved in apparent defeat. Although he said nothing and didn’t move, I could
sense the despair radiating off him.

I placed my hand lightly on his back. “What’s
wrong?”

He turned his head and looked at me with
bleak eyes. “I’m going to lose you.”

I sat up, pulling the comforter around
our shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, his
voice rough and low.

“Of course you do, Max.” I moved so we
faced each other, the comforter wrapped around us, and put my arms around his
shoulders. “I love you. Do you hear me?”

He buried his face in my hair. “You’re
too good for me.”

“That’s bullshit. No-one’s too good for
you.”

“I wish that were true.” His lips moved
against my hair. “I really do.”

“You’re a good person. You saved me from
those guys the night of the party; you helped me with Retro-girl; you listen to
me and you never make fun.”

“Do other people make fun of you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Assholes,” he said.

“You never do. You’re so good to me.”

His shoulders slumped even more. “It’s
not enough. I didn’t really do anything with those guys and I sure didn’t help
you with Retro-girl. All I did was talk to her and let you sleep over here.
Which was to my advantage, I might add.”

“If it wasn’t for you, I would have
ended up raped that night, so I have no idea how you can say you didn’t do
anything. And you did help me with Retro-girl. You listened without laughing;
you gave advice. No-one else would have done that for me.”

“Caro—”

I took his face between my hands and
stared into his beautiful eyes. “You are a wonderful, strong person, Max. How
many people do you think manage to get themselves off the streets, get a GED
and go into business for themselves? Not very many, I’ll bet.”

“I had help. I didn’t do it by myself.”

“So what? That’s not the point.”

He sighed, shaking his head inside the
cage of my hands. “You don’t get it.”

“Yes, I do. You’re determined to hate
yourself because of your past. Don’t let it control you.”

“You don’t know what really happened.”

“Then tell me.”

“I can’t.” His voice cracked. “I just
can’t.”

My whole body ached in sympathy for his
pain. I pulled his head down and kissed him. He needed forgetfulness, and physical
intimacy was the only thing I could think of that might give it to him.

The sex this time was slow and sweet. I
tried to show him how I felt with caresses instead of words, but I couldn’t
tell if he got the message. Every movement of his body seemed filled with
sadness that I couldn’t touch or soothe away.

“Never forget I love you,” he murmured
to me as he entered my body.

“Yes,” I said.

He began to move. “No matter what
happens, remember I love you.”

I stared up at his troubled eyes. “Max,
you’re scaring me.”

What had happened while I slept to
disturb him so deeply?

“I love you,” he said, sliding deep into
me.

The burst of pleasure that came with his
movement drove the worry out of my mind. But only temporarily. When we were
finished, I held myself over him and fixed him with a determined stare. “Tell
me what’s wrong. What happened to you?”

He gave me what I think was supposed to
be a carefree smile. “It’s nothing. I just had a bad dream. Sorry I scared you.”

“Max—”

“Really, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about
it.”

***