by Fields, MJ
“Cool. Hobbies?” I ask.
“Not a lot of time for them.”
“Understood. Then, what do you like to do?”
“Honestly, I like working at the gym. Makes me want to work out, and once I do, I always wonder why I dread it.”
I squeeze her hand. “Gives you a high, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“And the bartending thing?”
“Hate it. But need to make money, and so does Lindsey. Mine out of necessity; hers out of not wanting to feel like her parents completely control her life.”
“Understand that. Pretty lucky my folks never used money as a punitive punishment. Gimme more.”
“I used to love reading.”
“And writing.” I laugh.
“Yeah, but now that they’re requirements for school, it’s not that much of an escape.”
“Calling bullshit on that. It’s not school; it’s that you don’t have a writing partner or the muse like you did in high school. But now …” I wink.
“The time.”
“Two years and done, yeah?” I kiss her hand again.
“Yeah, two years.” She smiles, but it’s of the sad variety.
“What are you majoring in?”
“Social work.”
“Makes total sense.”
“You?”
“Marketing.”
“Oh?” She acts surprised.
“I know we aren’t pals on social media”—I raise an eyebrow at her, and she rolls her eyes—“but I got a pretty good thing going there.”
“Oh, I remember all the videos and pictures. If I hadn’t known you from school, I’d have wondered if you owned a shirt.”
Joking, I say, “Total bean flicker material for you, then, huh?”
She looks out the window. “You could say that.”
“Please, for the love of hot sex, give me a rough number of how many times you got yourself off to my posts.”
She laughs. “Oh, shut up.”
Dead serious, I tell her, “Give me a number, Blue, and I’ll multiply it by ten by our one year.”
“Not happening,” she says, her face turning red, and I bet her nips are hard … yep, they sure are.
“I’m spending an hour sucking on those titties when my class is over.”
She looks shook when she asks, “How exactly is one supposed to respond to that?”
Holding her hand tight against my chest, I answer, “Pretty much got the script down earlier. I believe it was Yes, God, yes. Yes, yes, yes, but feel free to improvise when it’s actually going down.”
“You seriously took this conversation in a different direction than it started. Can you please focus?”
“I do my best work when I go with my gut, Blue.” Thinking now is a good time to spring the whole car thing on her, I do. “Like when I bought this sweet ride as a gift for my girl so she can be safe and in a smoke-free environment.”
“Oh, hell no.” She jacks her hand back.
“Now, is that how you accept a gift, Blue?”
“This isn’t a gift, Max. This is a three row SUV. A grocery getter. And it costs more than I’ll make in a year when I graduate. If that isn’t bad enough, I can’t even imagine it wouldn’t get stolen in my neighborhood.”
“Got it for a Steel. Mom was upgrading, and this was listed as the safest family vehicle.”
“Then I hope you enjoy driving it.”
“I used a coupon,” I state.
“Oh, yeah?” she huffs. “They give coupons for this kind of vehicle in your zip code, because we sure don’t in Bayside.”
“I mean, yeah, crossed out the free for one hug and penciled in thirty-five cents off.”
“Are you trying to be funny? Because this is not.”
“May not be funny, but you and I both know Becky isn’t safe. And I can’t imagine you needing space from me, because I want to be up your ass, figuratively, for now, and then literally of course, and—”
“Max, just stop.”
“Fuck no. I’m just getting started letting you know how I’ve been feeling since seeing you again and realizing that stupid fuck who tried to dose Ellis and got us both. Could have ended my life, Amias’s life, gotten just Ellis and raped her, fucking her head up more than it was previously due to—” I stop and shake my head. “You drive this, you won’t break down. You get in an accident, you’re safer in here than most of the cars on the road. Your truck’s fucked. It would cost six Gs to get everything fixed, and no guarantee it wouldn’t need another engine in the next couple years since the warranty on used engines is six months. You have three years on this. Makes sense. So, chill, Blue. You need to go for a drive, hang with the girls, take a weekend and chill in a cabin with Red. This makes sense.”
I let go of her hand, because she’s not even trying to hold mine, and grip the steering wheel. “What happens if you and Saylor break down at the local discount store in Bayside, the one between the paycheck loan place and the pawn shop that some addict stumbles out of, is fucked up, and decides to start shit? You get in Becky, who decides it’s time for a smoke break, and then … fuck.” I hit the steering wheel. “I lost two years with you and two years of firsts with Saylor. Consider this child support. Take the scrap money that Oakley’s old man, who owns the shop I had Becky towed to, is giving you and stop working those parties. Cops could bust them at any time, and you’d possibly end up with a charge. Guessing that may fuck up future job applications.”
“We’ve planned to stop before we turn twenty-one. We’re not purchasing the alcohol, so don’t you dare look down on me for doing what I have to do to take care of my daughter.”
“Look down on you?” I huff. “I fucking admire you. But I’m here now, so let me take care of you and her, because I can and because I want to.”
“You don’t even know if she’s—”
“Are you mine, Miller?”
She doesn’t answer.
I mumble under my breath, “This over a vehicle. You better strap in; this ride isn’t gonna be any smoother if you keep fighting me. Be like riding a fucking mechanical bull during an electrical surge.”
“Fine! I get you wanting to do all this, but I don’t want your parents’ money only to possibly disappoint them and—”
“I don’t use a dime of my parents’ money. I have a steady stream of income from my social media channels. Haven’t touched my trust fund. Been saving it up in a vault to unlock when either someone in my family needs it or I find my queen, which is you just to be clear. Guessing we’re gonna have a fight about that, too.”
“My heart hurts for you. Truly, Max, but slow down. I didn’t think I’d ever have to consider a custody …” She stops when the phone rings and the dashboard displays Oakley’s name.
I hit accept call.
“What’s the good news, Oakley?”
“None. Thing’s toast, just like I said. She’s gonna be pissed.”
“Yeah, I’m sure she will be, but that’s not your fault.” I look over at her as she pulls her knees up to her chest and hugs them.
“Boone needs you back here to babysit. Dumbass broke in here with a ball bat and took out the windows and the windshield, thinking she’d get more from insurance than for scraps. Talked my old man down from calling the cops on him after he checked out the surveillance tape. He brought a friend, too.”
“I wanna laugh, but I’m not thinking you’re finding it amusing right now, huh?”
“Not real funny, but that crazy bastard certainly is loyal to those he deems a friend. But dragging another into it was a bad move.”
“Any damages, let me know. I’ll cover his ass and his pal’s.”
“That’s good, Steel, but I got it.”
“All right.”
“You want me to tell Mila, or you need an excuse to talk to her?” he asks.
“I’m right here, Oakley,” Mila says on a sigh.
“Sorry, Mila, we tried.”
“I appreciate it”—she looks at me and
finishes the sentence—“even though I may not seem like I do.”
“Hard to accept help when you’re not used to getting it, huh?”
“Isn’t like giving to a charity when your head’s up your ass about someone and just want them safe,” I snip.
“Yeah, well, um …” Oakley pauses. “So, you want her to go for scrap?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I’ll give you cash when I see you.”
She sniffs. “Thanks, Oakley.”
“You up for catching some waves tomorrow night?” I ask him.
“You serious?” he replies.
“Dead serious. Bring a couple friends.”
“Will do,” he says then hangs up.
After a few seconds, she whispers, “Thank you.”
“Yeah. Anytime.”
Another twenty miles down the road, and she turns to me. “You surprised that you’re the one who needs the break already?”
“The ocean was my everything—my passion, my love, and it keeps me grounded. You need a break, and I’m man enough to give you the space you need. No big deal, Blue.”
A couple minutes later, she’s asleep.
I turn on the radio and just drive.
Wide Awake
Mila
When I wake up, I do so with Lindsey in the driver’s side of the vehicle that Max gave to me, and he’s not here.
“Hey,” she says as soon as she notices my eyes are open.
“Hey.”
“You break up with Sal? You and Max a thing now? He bought you a fucking car?” she gasps.
Too exhausted to go into this delicately, and now that I am in no way able to protect myself, or Saylor, from the inevitable, I grab my phone from my bag and open the photo app. Smiling, I look at the pictures I took over the past couple days.
“I lied. I hope you don’t hate me, Lindsey, when I tell you that Sal is actually Saylor.” I hand her my phone with the selfie of her and me at the salon when she got her first hair cut on display. “She’s two, she’s my daughter, and she might be Max’s, or she might be his arch-rival in high school. I slept with them both around the same time I got pregnant.”
Lindsey smiles at my phone screen. “There is no way, unless this other guy is a twin of his, that she’s not Max’s. My God, look at that face! She is adorable. When can I meet her?” She looks up from the screen to me, and the dam breaks.
“There, there.” She hugs me. “You have exactly ten minutes to cry, and then you have to get to class.”
“I can’t do this,” I cry.
“You can, you are, and you have the most beautiful two-year-old reason to keep on doing it.” She pets my hair like my mom used to after Dad finally passed out and as we both tried to recover from his heavy handedness.
* * *
Walking into the class that I now must take because everything else is full, I sit in the back of the lecture hall so that no one can see my face that’s a mess right now.
The syllabus is passed around, which would usually cause me excitement, but I don’t love that everything is now online. I end up with a headache after hours of reading, and split screens don’t work as well as a good old packet full of paper references beside my notebooks and textbooks. I learn better that way and have far less distractions. However, today there is no joy found in the thick packet.
Max says he loves me, and I have no idea how to let him.
After my name is called, and I have answered with, “Here,” Professor Lovington resumes taking attendance, and I pull my sweater around me and close my eyes.
When I hear the name Maximus Steel and his response of, “Fully present,” my heart expands. Then, when the I hear giggles around the lecture hall, I feel all kinds of … stabby.
“Have you seen him shirtless?” The girl two seats down from me leans over and holds out her phone, showing me a picture of Max.
“He’s okay.”
“Okay?” She laughs.
“Usually, guys like that are lacking in other areas, if you know what I’m saying.” So what if it’s completely untrue? She doesn’t know that, not yet, anyway.
Maybe she could love him like he deserves to be loved, and then the two of them could talk about what a big fat liar I am.
“Just DM’d him.” She shows me the message.
“Seriously?” She sent a tittie pic.
“I mean, why not?”
“Because he didn’t ask to see your fake-ass Ds, that’s why. Desperate as fuck.”
Apparently, I’m a bit loud, because the whole room falls silent, and Professor Lovington asks, “Is there a problem, ladies?”
“One of us is a lady,” I say matter-of-factly.
“Mila, you feelin’ okay, babe?” Freaking Max asks, standing up.
I don’t answer.
“Her sugar gets low. May I?” he asks, pointing up at me.
“Please do.”
“You know him?” The girl acts like she’s offended.
I hold my hand up in her face. “Get away from me.”
Max takes the stairs two at a time, and then he plops his ass between me and Tits McGee. He opens his bag and pulls out a protein bar. “Need to eat something, Blue.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Yeah, well, you’re gonna need to fake it to take the shine off you.”
I lean forward and look at the ho. “You wanted his protein bar, right? Isn’t that what you said? You and your tits sliding in his DM.”
Max chuckles. “Easy, tiger. I don’t even check that, and the only person getting a single shot of any of my protein is you.”
The bitch stands up. “I’m out. She’s crazy.”
I shove my foot out, hoping to trip her, and Max hooks his around mine and pulls it back.
“Can we not be the crazy couple on campus and be hashtag goals instead?” He hands me the open protein bar, a shit-ass grin spreading across his stupid gorgeous face.
“This isn’t funny.”
“No, but at least I know you’re not checking out.”
“Um, was I not just laid out on a picnic table?”
He sits back in the chair and clasps his hands behind his neck, all man and hot as hell casual, but no less infuriating. That grin spreads across his face as he says, “Yeah, you were.”
“I told Lindsey about Saylor,” I whisper in a rush.
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, still looking forward. Him not saying anything makes me feel even more awful about sort of hiding her. I feel anxiety and embarrassment build inside of me.
Finally, he turns his head and looks at me. “Yeah?”
“It’s not that I didn’t want people to know. I was—”
“Protecting her. I get that. You may not get this right now, but you will never have to do it alone again.”
“Mr. Steel, Ms. Miller, is everything under control now?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiles and sits back.
He holds out his hand, palm up. “I got you, Mila.”
I close my eyes and place my hand in his.
After a couple minutes, he asks, “So, do you at least like the vehicle?”
I don’t look at him, but I nod.
“We good, then?”
Again, I nod.
Through the whole class, he runs his thumb in slow, soft circles on my hand. It’s calming, and it’s sweet, and it’s … Max.
Walking out of class, I notice the Miss Tittie, and so does Max. He throws his arm around me, pulls me against him, kisses the top of my head, and says, “You and me are good. That shit doesn’t matter.”
I look up at him and ask, “Yeah?”
He winks. “Yeah.”
As we walk toward the quad, I remember his conversation with Oakley. “Aren’t you going surfing?”
“I’d say give me a better offer and I’ll reschedule, but you look beat, babe.”
I nod.
“I’ll walk you back, drop off my bag, change, and then head out.”
&nbs
p; “Wait—where’s your board?”
“In my truck.”
“You still have your truck?” I ask, confused. “How did your truck get here?”
“Kiki and Brand dropped it off for me.”
“They came all this way?”
“Of course, that’s what family does.” He nods toward the Student Union. “You hungry?”
“Lindsey grabbed dinner for us earlier, but if you are, go ahead. I can handle walking alone.”
“But you don’t have to anymore.”
Us walking together does not go unnoticed because he’s Max. The guy with probably a zillion followers, a smile that lights up every room, a body that melts panties and, from what I’m now bearing witness to, a heart that shines, and everyone knows he’s here on campus.
He gives my hip a squeeze, and I look away from all those gawking at us and back at him.
“Gotta tell you, senior year, walking into school alone, without any of my crew and Marc and the rest of them we grew up with being there, and all the hostility that surrounded that shit show, it was hard. Seeing you in almost every class made it much more enjoyable. The past two years, I’ve been basically doing it alone, had my folks and plenty of times other family there for competitions, which was nice, but it wasn’t the same. I’m glad I have you back, Miller, and I’m looking forward to all our future walks together. I’m hoping this shit, all the people looking at us, chills after they see we’re not just a thing and that we’re solid.”
“They’re looking at you, not us.”
He shakes his head and laughs. “Don’t be so naïve. I know a bunch of guys who want up in you. Hell, Boone asked me if I was calling dibs on you. I know Oakley is sweet on you, too, and if those two are, so are half the guys on campus.” He nods ahead of us and says, “Well, maybe not those two guys.”
I look in that direction to see two guys making out.
“Guessing you’re not their flavor. The rest of them will know within a couple days, if not sooner, that I’ve officially called dibs.”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to me. “Phone password is S. A. I. L. O. R.”
To that, my heart warms. “It’s a Y, not an I.”
“Well, damn.” He drags me over to a bench in front of our building and sits. “I like that. I like it a lot.”
