The Boyfriend Sessions (19 page)

“That can be tough for a guy.” Max’s voice was quiet.

Maddy eyed him seriously and was quick to speak. “You never saw yourself settling down with him, Christa?”

“Honestly? No. I think by the end of that first year we both realized that the relationship worked for us because it was safe. We had company when we needed it, sex when we needed it, someone to take along to events. We never really discussed taking it any further. I mean we both talked about wanting kids at some point in the future, but it was unspoken that it wasn’t necessarily with each other.”

“Where is he now?” Cate asked curiously.

“Actually, I just saw on Facebook that he got married. He lives in Melbourne now. She looks lovely and I honestly hope he found what he was looking for.”

Max eased himself back into his chair a small frown playing at the corners of his mouth. “I must say, that was a very undramatic relationship for you, Christa.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don’t set out to live my life in crisis, you know.”

“Yeah,” Scarlett added, “she just attracts it.”

I gave her a filthy look, to which she shrugged. “Can we have dinner now?”

“Not so fast.” Cate had her damn iPad out again. “What would you say you learned from the relationship?”

“Seriously?” Did we really have to go through this? It was getting old.

“Alright, we’ll each tell you what we think your lessons were, then.” Cate completely ignored my pained expression. “I would say that Michael restored your faith in men at that point in time. Sure, you weren’t in love with each other, but he was such a decent guy, he reminded you that there was something out there worth waiting for.”

She was so painfully romantic. “Sounds a lot more like your view on the world, Cate.”

She stuck at her tongue at me. “Maddy? Your thoughts?”

“That a relationship doesn’t have to have massive highs and massive lows. Things with Michael were very steady,” Maddy answered.

“But so much less exciting,” Scarlett added, then pouted at Maddy’s unimpressed look. “Alright. I’d say Christa learned the importance of humor. Too many guys she’d gone out with before were so intense and serious. Max?”

He looked around the other women, before his eyes met mine. I tried not to swallow as I stared into those dark eyes, which only several nights ago had been locked on me as we’d made love in his apartment.

He cleared his throat after a long, thoughtful silence. “Friendship by itself is not enough. Chemistry alone isn’t either. But put both of those together and you might just have something.”

At my girlfriend’s puzzled looks, he stood and quickly added, “That’s if she can find it, of course.” He went to the kitchen, for some wine presumably, and I was thankful their attention was still focused on Max’s back as he retreated.

It was just as well, because my face was bright red.

“So were you trying to reveal our dirty little secret last night or what?”

It was Friday night and we sat in Max’s lounge room. The balcony doors were wide open and the fresh spring breeze was doing its best to override the oily smell of our meatlovers pizza and garlic bread. The sounds of the work week winding down wafted in from outside, busy Friday evening traffic and the snippets of jovial conversation as people walked by on their way to dinner or the pub.

Max chewed thoughtfully on his mouthful of pizza before answering. “Hardly. You’re just feeling guilty for deceiving your friends.”

“That’s a low blow.” It might’ve been true, but I didn’t need reminding of my deception.

He shook his head at me. “Believe me you’ll know when I’m delivering a low blow. All I was getting at was it takes more than friendship or chemistry alone to make a relationship work.”

This time it was my turn to chew my pizza thoughtfully. Was he right? I methodically went through my ex-boyfriends in my head. “Alright,” I conceded, “you do have a point. There’s always been too much lust or not enough, or a great friendship but not enough chemistry. But seriously, does every relationship out there have the perfect balance, or do you think most are just making do with what they’ve got, rather than ending up lonely?”

“I’d say a lot of people are settling, but I’m not planning on being one of those.”

“Really?” I was intrigued. Max Spencer was still searching for Miss Right.

He reached for his Pepsi, unmoved by my curiosity. “I’d rather be alone than be in the wrong relationship.”

“You’re not alone right now.” I wasn’t sure what I was getting at, but the way my heart was beating in my rib cage suggested I wanted to know more about his feelings.

He leveled his gaze on mine seriously. “No, I’m not.”

“I’m hardly Miss Right.”

He revealed a wry grin. “Not Miss Right Now?”

I returned his grin. “Does Miss Right Now tend toward being heavy on the chemistry?”

Max leaned over and gave me a lingering kiss, his fingers playing with my hair. When he eased back, I found myself a little dizzy. “She excels on the chemistry side and I’m definitely not complaining. Whether she wants more remains to be seen.”

I swallowed. I was unnerved by his proximity and his intense stare. His eyes seemed to be pulling me in for another kiss, but his words were hinting at something different. “Miss Right Now currently isn’t sure she’ll ever be cut out to be someone’s Mrs Right,” I replied softly.

He did kiss me this time and it lasted until I was weak in his arms. God, he was confusing me. Was he saying he wanted more than this? Did I want more? It was hard to concentrate.

His eyes softened as he registered my conflicted expression. He rubbed a gentle thumb over my lips, making me inhale quickly. I responded by taking his thumb in my mouth and biting it, while my tongue caressed it seductively. He groaned softly.

Pouting, I eased his thumb from my lips and gave him a sly look. “Do you think you’ll be able to settle with this for now?”

His eyes looked pained. “Do I have a choice?”

My response was to climb over and straddle him, so I faced him. Judging by the hard length of him pressing into me through his jeans, no, he didn’t have a choice.

His lips found my neck and I could feel him breathing me in while his hands worked their way expertly under my shirt. My skin blazed from his touch and I arched my body into his. The sharp intake of breath that followed was all the invitation I needed. I pulled my t-shirt over my head and arched back again when his thumbs caressed the swell of my breasts. He pulled me to him again, so he could reach around and unhook my bra.

As he did, he whispered in my ear. “This is hardly settling.”

*

Later, we lay on his bed, a mixture of contentment and exhaustion removing the need to talk. His bedroom window was open slightly and the late night air felt like bliss on my sensitized skin. My thoughts seemed distant, like they were separated from my body. Somewhere in the fog I recalled being glad I’d told Cate I was catching up with friends from overseas tonight and I’d probably crash with them. And pizza. I was wondering if the pizza we’d left on the coffee table a couple of hours ago would still be edible. Satisfying Mighty Max was hungry work.

The sound of a mobile phone in the lounge room interrupted our recovery. With some relief I realized it wasn’t mine. I glanced at the digital clock on Max’s bedside, the red numerals glowing a little too brightly in the semi-darkness. Just after eleven o’clock.

Max rose from beside me and my eyebrows raised involuntarily at the sight of his naked, tall, muscular frame walking into the lounge room. There was a sight I could get used to.

After a minute, he came to stand in the doorway and I forced myself to focus at eye level.

“Do you mind if I hop on my computer for a while?”

I was puzzled. “Work, at this hour?”

He hesitated and cleared his throat. “No. I forgot I promised some guys we’d hook up online tonight and they’re wondering what happened to me.”

Guys? Hook up? My confusion must have been obvious because Max shook his head at me and said in an even tone, “Online gaming, Christa.”

Oh. Well, that was a relief. Or was it? “Computer games?” Did grown men play computer games?

Max’s eyes shone with amusement. He came back into the bedroom and slipped on a t-shirt and some boxers, then threw a clean t-shirt of his over for me to wear. “If you’re interested, come and take a look.”

I followed him into the second bedroom of his apartment, which I hadn’t actually bothered to look in properly until now. He flicked on a couple of small, black desk lamps and I stopped halfway into the room. Wow. A long custom-made desk ran the full length of the bedroom. On top of the glossy white bench sat a serious array of computer equipment that even to my uneducated eyes appeared to be very expensive. The two massive screens were the most obvious giveaway.

Max turned them both on and offered me one of two very comfortable looking desk chairs in black leather with chrome arms. I folded myself into one—they were big enough for me to cross my legs—and watched as Max got Skype going on one screen and started up a computer game on the other.

Max hit the call button for one of his contacts on Skype and we listened to it ring for a moment before it answered. I noticed he hadn’t activated the video.

“Hey, where have you been?” I wasn’t sure, but it sounded like Jay from Speedstream on the other end of the line.

“Sorry,” Max replied, glancing at me, “something else came up.”

“We’re still going. Are you in?”

“For an hour or so.” I watched as Max flicked the game onto both screens. We were in what looked like a dark underground bunker, the tip of a rather menacing automatic weapon appearing in the foreground. The eerie sound of very real gunfire echoed in the distance, a promise of what was to come.

Computer games indeed.

I watched mesmerized as he directed his avatar relentlessly through the endless series of tunnels. I physically jumped as gunfire came from the direction on our right, where an alternative tunnel branched off. Max expertly rounded the corner and proceeded to gun down about five or six men in sickening efficiency before continuing.

“When you get to the four-way tunnel, take the left. I’m covering the right,” Jay advised him.

And that’s how it continued for at least the next half hour. By that time it was close to midnight and the constant sound of gunfire and the bright fluorescent flicker of the giant screen started to overwhelm me. I stood and gave him a soft kiss on his left cheek.

He looked over at me and whispered so Jay wouldn’t hear. “You don’t mind?”

I shook my head and indicated by putting my two palms together and bringing them to my face that it was time I went to bed. He nodded.

I returned to his bedroom via the lounge room and closed the door quietly, to block out the sounds of combat. I crawled into his bed, still in his oversized t-shirt and pulled the covers up.

A man in his mid-thirties playing computer games late on a Friday night. I felt exhausted and perplexed, not sure what to make of it.

It could be worse, I supposed. It wasn’t porn, nor was he out all night drinking. It was a hobby. I guessed some men tinkered with cars, others might be into sport. Max was into gaming.

I grinned as I nuzzled my head comfortably into his pillow, the spicy scent of him on the sheets. It just seemed like such a teenage boy hobby, that was all. But judging by the massive computer screens and equipment, it was one he took rather seriously.

Max was still a nerd, I thought. Then giggled. He was one very sexy nerd, all things considered. I also realized I loved that about him and I wasn’t entirely sure why.

Too tired to think on it any further, I drifted into sleep, the muffled echo of gunfire from the next room sounding more like distant thunder.

*

On Saturday morning I was surprised to find myself awake before Max. I had no idea how late he’d stayed up playing computer games, so decided it was my turn to cook breakfast. By the time Max emerged from his bedroom looking rather groggy, I had steaming bacon and eggs sitting on the table, accompanied by toast and my much required morning coffee.

“That smells awesome.”

I watched, amused, as he lowered himself into the nearest chair. He seemed completely oblivious to the fact he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, his eyes hungrily inspecting my breakfast.

“Late night?” I asked.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess.”

“It’s easy to get carried away, is it?”

He looked reluctantly up from his plate and regarded me for a second. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” I was puzzled. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

He looked sheepish. It was an expression so at odds with his masculine features, but one I was starting to find endearing. “For ignoring you and playing games all night,” he clarified.

“I’d hardly call what we did earlier in the night ignoring me.”

His sheepish expression turned crimson and it made me want to kiss him.

“No, that’s true. But I suppose I should say up front that I do tend to get carried away when it comes to computer games. I don’t play anywhere as much as I used to, but I still enjoy it.”

I bit back a smile. It was like he was admitting a mortal sin and in my mind I could see him standing up in front of a group therapy session.
I, Max Spencer, am an addict. An online gaming addict.

I shrugged. “So what? You like computer games. So long as you don’t ignore me when I’m standing naked and wanting in front of you, I don’t see how it’s going to be an issue.”

His eyes darkened and I enjoyed the flare of heat sparking in them. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Good. Then it’s not going to be a problem.”

He studied me carefully for a while longer before returning to his plate. We ate in silence for a few minutes and I couldn’t help but wonder why he’d jumped so quickly to apologize for staying up late last night. Had it been an issue in his previous relationship? Something told me he wasn’t going to want to talk about it.

For the first time I realized my original curiosity at his engagement to Sarah was morphing into more than that. His constant refusal to reveal anything about his relationship was a source of frustration for me. Not because I was forced to relive my failed romances weekly, it had more to do with the idea that he was shutting some part of himself off. And that annoyed me.

Still, I decided to tread carefully. “It’s not like I couldn’t be accused of doing the same thing every now and then,” I said casually.

He raised an eyebrow while he continued chewing.

“Precious creative type, remember? I’ve been known to shut myself away and neglect the world around me from time to time.” I almost mentioned my tendency to wear my tracksuit pants until they smelled, but decided to keep that detail to myself.

“Not everyone gets my love of computer games.” He returned his focus to his food, spearing another slice of bacon.

“What’s to understand? They’re a great stress release.”

“Really?” I had his attention again.

“Really. You’re not the only one who’s ever played computer games, you know.”

“When have you played computer games?” He pronounced each word carefully to highlight his disbelief at my statement.

“Hello? Little brother obsessed with Playstation.” My brother, Lance, had been like any other teenage boy, spending countless hours on his Playstation growing up.

“You used to play with him?” The disbelief was turning to admiration.

“I used to whip his ass.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Max’s mouth curled upwards. “I wish I could have been there.”

“Well, next time you’ve got Mortal Kombat, I’m your girl.”

He stood abruptly and the sound of his chair scraping on the tiles made me jump.

“Mortal Kombat, you say?”

I looked up at his tall form towering over me. I blinked and forced myself to remain focused on his face, his bare chest more than a little distracting. “Yes, Mortal Kombat.”

“Come here.”

I blinked again at his blunt tone and watched as he headed to the flat screen television opposite his black two-seater leather lounge. The television sat atop a low-lying sleek black entertainment unit, which he went to, then slid open one of the panels. He reached in and pulled out what looked to be a PS3.

“You’ve got Mortal Kombat?” This man was a gaming freak.

He turned and looked at me, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “I’ve got Mortal Kombat.”

“Then I’m going to whip your ass.”

“I doubt it.” He turned back to the PS3 and began loading the game.

Surprised by his confidence, I got up from the table and went to stand behind him. With a sly grin, I reached out, cupped his buttock and squeezed. “Oh yeah, I’m going to enjoy whipping your ass.”

He turned to face me. “Playing with fire, Bubbles.”

“Hand me the controller, Spencer.”

He did as he was told and I positioned myself cross-legged on the rug facing the TV. It had been quite a few years but I was relieved to see the controller was basically the same.