Maxed Steel

by Fields, MJ

  “The hell did he do, Mila?” Boone jumps to my defense with Mila.

  She snaps her fingers in front of my face. “You want a drink, or are you just gonna stand there, staring?”

  “Pretty sure I’m just gonna stand here, staring.” I smile and lift my chin. “How do I know you?”

  “She—” the redhead starts then quickly stops as she slaps both hands over her face and screams into them. I’m pretty damn sure her friend, the feisty and familiar brunette with blue faded streaks in her hair, kicked her or something.

  “Oh, I see how it is.”

  “You players see what you wanna see. But, right now, I see a crowd behind you waiting on drinks. You’re standing between me and making tips tonight, so order a drink or step back.”

  “Not a player, Blue.”

  “Bullshit.” She grabs Boone’s empty cup and fills it from the keg. “You’re all into hookups, just some are man enough to admit it.”

  “I’m not into hookups, but if that’s your thing, go ahead, try to convince me to try it out. No judgment here,” I joke.

  She looks at me like I am lower than whale shit, and it hits me.

  “I saw you on the quad. I bought the shirt you were wearing.”

  She slams the draft beer on the bar and gives me the meanest smile that I have ever received. Not gonna lie, it’s kind of a turn-on. “You’re right, genius. Now step aside so the others can get a drink.”

  I look at Boone. “Tip the ladies.”

  He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the fifty that Oakley just gave him. “All I have is a fifty.”

  I snatch it from his hand and set it on the bar. “Perfect.”

  “You fucking kidding me, Steel?” he grumbles.

  “Easy come, easy go, man.” I smile at Blue, turn, and then push through the crowd, feeling sky-blue eyes lasering into the back of my head.

  I look over my shoulder just to see if I’m right. Nope, not right. She’s checking out my ass. I stop, knowing she will look up, and when she does and sees me smiling, she gives me the finger. And you know what, that’s pretty fucking hot.

  “What are you cheesing at, jackass?” Boone asks.

  I shake my head. “Nothing, man, nothing.”

  “That fifty didn’t do shit to help your cause. She hates you, bro.”

  I look at him, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Fucking fascinating.”

  “You ain’t right, Steel, you ain’t fucking right.” He rolls his eyes. “Come on; let’s introduce you to your kind.”

  * * *

  Standing at the bar, I look down at my watch. Five minutes has turned to ten, and the thirty people who were behind me have all been served. Blue—or Mila—and Red are now doing shots with two of the guys I met earlier and completely ignoring me.

  Not a big drinker, and not at all interested in any of the offers I’ve been given tonight, and they have been plentiful, because of one feisty bartender who’s piqued my interest.

  Once the others have left with full red cups, I clear my throat. “The fact you’re ignoring me is fascinating.”

  “Let’s do Todd,” Red says.

  Mila quickly replies, “Easy on the eyes. In a relationship, but probably cheating on his girlfriend.”

  “Brad?” Red asks, wiping down the opposite side of the board bar from me.

  “King of wearing his hat backward and the first to throw a punch.”

  “Chase?”

  “Taller than Brad but has a smaller dick.” She wiggles her pinky.

  Red snort-laughs.

  “How about Max?” I ask, setting myself up for some shit, but at least I will get a response.

  They completely ignore me.

  “Nick…”

  “Cares about every girl he talks to for about one week. They have an unbelievable whirlwind relationship, but when they find out he’s packing a less than average peen, they call it off but remain friends.”

  Red giggles. “Tony.”

  “Set to take over Daddy’s spot as CEO of a family business and will never truly have to work a day in his life.”

  “Chet?”

  “Thinks he’s so hot that he only posts shirtless pics on his social media pages but is really painfully average-looking.”

  “Dylan?”

  Mila lifts a shoulder. “So vain he probably thinks this song and every conversation is about him.”

  Red throws her head back and laughs as she asks, “Did he walk into a party like he was walking onto a yacht?”

  “I get the Carly Simon reference. Does that win me any favors?” I ask.

  I feel a hand grip my shoulder. “You need a drink, man?”

  I look back. It’s Tyler, one of the guys I met, holding out a bottle.

  “I’m good on the hard stuff. A beer will do me just fine.”

  “Take mine.” A girl with big brown eyes, short as hell dress, and huge tits attempts to hand me her cup. “Amber. We met just a few minutes ago.”

  “Thanks, but that’s all you, Amber.” I wink.

  “Trying to get me drunk?” she asks before setting down her drink and stepping closer. She puts her hand on my chest and runs it down my abs.

  I put my hand over hers, stopping her from getting any lower. “Amber, babe, I think you got yourself drunk. Maybe you should chi—”

  “The pictures online don’t do you justice. Your body is insanely hard. I bet the rest is—”

  “Here’s your beer. How about the two of you take it elsewhere, preferably to a room that has a door that shuts,” Mila says.

  “Sounds like a plan.” Amber takes my hand.

  “Not feeling it tonight,” I tell her, taking a drink.

  “I can make you feel things you’ve never felt before,” she purrs.

  Mila chimes in as I take a drink, “She’s not lying. Half of Baller can confirm she gives one hell of an itchy, burning feeling, accompanied by some painful urination.”

  My mouthful of beer is now covering Amber’s face. The whole place starts laughing, and I try my best not to.

  “You … you …” Amber, begins wiping at her face as I look for napkins.

  “I’m so damn sor—”

  “It’s fine,” she says, lifting my shirt and wiping her face off with it. “You’ll make it up to me.”

  When she’s finished drying off her face, she runs her hands up my abs, under my now wet and makeup stained tee-shirt.

  “Amber, you do know that no means no, right?” Red snarks.

  Amber looks over at Red. “And you do know that, until you lose the freckles and the baby fat, start using makeup, and get some tits, you’ll remain untouched, right?” She fists my shirt and looks up at me. “Get me out of this shit hole.”

  Mila hisses, “Skank-ass—”

  “I have two sisters,” I cut Mila off and step back, “and if one of them were here right now, they’d verbally tear your ass apart for saying that bullshit to another woman.”

  A loud whistle draws my attention behind me to see Mila pulling her fingers from her mouth while walking around the bar. I hold my arm out, blocking Mila from advancing on her when, in all reality, I’d love to let her have at it.

  Nasty smiles. “Good thing they’re not here. I wouldn’t want you to have to pick me over them this early on.”

  I step back. “No one comes before family. And no rude-ass chick gets my time or my dick.”

  “All right, Amber, let’s get you back to campus.” Oakley grabs her hand and pulls her away.

  “Why do we hate him again?” I hear Red ask.

  I lean in, plant my elbows on the bar, and smile at Mila. “Great question. I’d love to hear the answer to that myself.”

  She turns her back to me, bends down, and grabs a cup, her long hair falling over her shoulder and exposing the back of her neck. Right there on the upper left side, I see it. An almost perfect, pale blue, little heart-shaped birthmark that has always been fucking adorable. I know it like I know the back of my hand. I stared at the damn
thing for close to four years of high school in nearly every class I took. Not gonna lie, I wanted to lick it a few times. Truth be told, I would love to do so now.

  She looks different, and she certainly acts that way, too.

  Miller babe, what the hell happened to you?

  Never Gonna Get It

  Mila

  “Hate’s a strong word,” I say, filling Beaner’s cup and handing it to him. “Right, Beaner?”

  “No room for that out on the waves, right, Max?” He raises his cup to him.

  I feel eyes, like laser beams, blasting the side of my head and glance over. He’s staring at me, in a different way this time. Then his lips start to turn up like he … aww … hell, he knows.

  “No room for hate anywhere.” Not even bothering to have the decency to look away, he lifts his beer and takes a sip before licking the foam off his upper lip and smiling.

  I roll my eyes and turn away.

  “You got a minute, Mila?” he asks.

  “Nope.” I pop my P.

  He chuckles. “Half a minute?”

  “Not even a quarter of a second.” I fill another cup then set it in front of Adley, who I know from the party scene. Not much of a partier, four drink limit at every party I have played barkeep, and too sweet for most of the guys around here, especially guys like Max.

  “Thanks, Mila.” She smiles as she lays a dollar on the bar.

  “No problem.”

  Still feeling the heat from his gaze, I turn, cross my arms, and ask, “You need another drink, or are you going to just stand there being annoying all night?”

  The girls in the group behind him all gasp and begin to whisper.

  “I’m good on the drink, just enjoying the hell out of the view. Jesus, you glowed u—”

  “Max,” I huff as I make my way toward the side door, the closest exit to us, and throw the door open.

  Standing outside, I wait, and not all that long for him to follow.

  When the door closes behind him, he smiles brighter than the damn moon. “Always had a glow about you, but damn, Miller.”

  “I don’t need your approval, and I don’t want to be your pal, so turn down the thousand-watt smile and stow the nice guy act.”

  His smile falls as he cocks his head to the side and a rush of air escapes him like someone just knocked the wind from his sails. “Jesus, Miller.”

  “It’s Mila, not Miller. Not Miller Moo. Not—”

  He steps forward as if he’s going to … touch me?

  I step back. “I worked my ass off to blend in here, to leave all that shit behind, so do what you do best, Max, and pretend I don’t exist, because I’m damn sure gonna do the same thing to you.”

  “Why the hostility? I never—” He snaps his mouth shut when realization kicks him in the junk. “I fucked up, yeah?”

  “I don’t believe in fuck-ups. I believe in things happening for a reason, and I believe in learning from your mistakes.”

  “I got in that accident and—”

  “I also believe in leaving the past in the past and not wasting your time on people who can’t even send a damn message.” I step around him.

  He steps in my way. “I’m sorry. Things were a bit—”

  “You need forgiveness? You got it.”

  “More than willing to make it up to you.”

  “Yeah,” I huff, “I bet you are.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He has the audacity to look offended.

  “It means you stood me up because I was a fat chick with bad skin.”

  “That’s bullshit, Miller, and—”

  “It’s Mila.” I try to keep my tone even. “And now I look a lot like one of the multitude of hoes you dated the remainder of our senior year. But I’m not anything like them, and you don’t deserve a friend like me. I’m kind of fucking awesome, Max Steel, always have been. And you’re a dick and always will be.”

  He looks all kinds of shook when I step around him and see Lindsey peeking out the window, throwing a victorious fist in the air. I smile at her even though I would really like to cry. She’s not going to treat me the same way now that there’s a chance Lindsey will see the real me, pre … pre-peak.

  God Lord, I seriously hope this is not my peak.

  * * *

  “We did good tonight, right?” Lindsey, who’s definitely a pro at reading the room and has come leaps and bounds from the girl I met freshman year but still has a deep-seated need to make sure everyone is okay, asks cautiously as we get into my truck.

  “Yeah, we killed it,” I say reassuringly as I turn the key and send up a silent prayer that my old Chevy, Becky, starts. She does, bless her engine.

  “And tomorrow?” she nearly squeaks.

  “Baller should be good, too.”

  “If you want to cancel or—”

  “Like you said, we need to bank as much as we can before our birthdays.” Giving her a reassuring smile, I turn on the lights, throw the truck in gear, and then press the gas.

  Lindsey screams and grabs the dash.

  I smash on the brakes, seeing a male figure directly in front of us.

  “The fuck, Mila.” I lean forward to see Beau reaching down, and then … of course, he pulls up one Max freaking Steel.

  I throw the truck in park and fling the door open as Lindsey does the same, crying out, “Are you okay?”

  I hit Max Steel. Of, course I fucking did.

  “Why the hell are you walking in front of a moving vehicle!” I yell at him as I look him over to make sure he’s not bleeding or broken.

  He rubs his hands on his pants and chuckles. “I’m good, thanks.”

  I point to his pants, to the blood on them. “You’re bleeding!”

  “Chill, Blue,” he says with a damn smile and holds up his hands. “Just a few scrapes.”

  Blue? What the fuck? Why is he calling me …? Who cares?

  “Well, stay off the damn road.”

  “You think we should walk in the fucking trees?” Beau asks.

  I look back and realize there are no cars that don’t belong to the Brotel boys then look back at Max. “Where’s your vehicle?”

  “We planned on drinking, so we walked.”

  “What? No car to drive you?” I snap as I turn back to get in my truck.

  “No,” he calls after me.

  Beau yells as I get in the truck, “Maybe you could give us a lift back, since you almost killed Max and all.”

  “I’d rather walk. She shouldn’t even be driving,” Max tells him.

  Pissed, I slide right back out and stomp toward him. “I haven’t drank a fucking thing. As a matter of fact, I think drinking and driving is the most selfish shit a person could do.”

  He arches an eyebrow. “Saw you tossing back shots.”

  “Of water,” Lindsey defends me. “We pretend to get bigger tip—”

  “Lindsey,” I cut her off.

  “Sorry. My bad,” she says then gets back in the truck.

  “About that ride?” Beau asks as he walks to my truck.

  Max calls after him, “How about you and Red get in the back so I can check out my ankle? I think it’s fucked up.”

  “I didn’t say yes,” I say to his damn back as he heads to my truck.

  “Not even going to attempt to explain right now why I know that ain’t you,” he says, walking with absolutely no fucking limp at all.

  “You don’t know me!”

  “You’re dead-ass wrong, Blue; I know you.” He opens the passenger door and helps Lindsey out.

  “She can ride in the front, too!” I snap, catching the smile on her face as Beau pulls her up in the back.

  I swing the door open but, before I get in, I point at Beau, who’s looking at Lindsey like she’s a snack. “I will scoop your balls out with a rusty spoon and feed them to your dumb ass if you even think about it. She’s not part of a damn contest. She’s the fucking prize.”

  “Freckles, is that so?” He chuckles as he looks
at her.

  She lifts her chin, squares her shoulders, and nods her head once. “Yes, I am.”

  If I wasn’t so pissed at my damn passenger, I would launch myself in the back of the truck, hug Lindsey, and tell her how proud I am of her, but I am pissed at my passenger and the sooner I get him out of my truck, the better.

  I shut the door and throw the truck in drive.

  “You weren’t even limping,” I snap at the same time he says, “I wasn’t driving drunk.”

  “Okay, one at a time.” He chuckles like this is some sort of joke.

  “Better plan—save it.” I reach over and turn on the radio. “Someone To You” is playing, and he starts singing along. It pisses me off that he isn’t tone deaf.

  One flaw, Lord. Expose just one more flaw to me.

  The song ends as I focus on the road and try not to inhale the scent that is Max Steel, a scent that wafted over my shoulder all through high school, a scent that was more enticing than Aunt Pams homemade snickerdoodles or double fudge cookies.

  And then a commercial about lube begins making me incredibley uncomfortable, and when it ends, a song begins and Max reaches up, turning the volume up and starting to sing again.

  “I’m a million miles smarter, but I ain’t learnt a thing. I’ve been a teacher and a student of hurt. I’ve kept my word, for whatever it’s worth.”

  I huff, and his stupid smile lights up the entire cab, and then … he begins singing again.

  I pull into the student parking lot and throw the truck in park. Kill the engine, and Becky sputters as she shuts down.

  “Better get that looked at, Blue, or—”

  “Cut the shit, Steel. Your stupid little nickname doesn’t make me want to be your friend. And honestly, it’s ridiculous that you’d want to be friends with someone who despises you.”

  He grabs my elbow as I reach for the keys, and a shiver runs down my spine. I look over at him. His eyes widen for a moment, but he doesn’t release my elbow.

  “I sat behind you in school for years, even classes that we didn’t have assigned seats. On the back of your neck, left side, close to your hairline, you have a tiny little birthmark that’s shaped like a little heart. It’s blue.”