“Hah, don’t listen to him honey.”
Surprised, Alyssa glanced up to see a chesty blond in a tight shirt standing at the end of their table.
“That’s nearly the same line he used on me before he ‘lost my number.’” The woman made air quotes as she said the last three words before placing her hands on her hips. “How ya doing, Max?”
The color drained from Max’s face as he looked from the blond to Alyssa. “I’m doing all right, and I’m sorry I didn’t call.”
“No, you’re not. You’re just sorry I ran into you and am ruining your date, along with your chance to score tonight. I bet you can’t even remember my name, can you?”
Max opened his mouth as if he was going to say her name, but then he closed it and shook his head. His eyes dropped to the table momentarily before flicking back up to the woman. “No, I can’t, and I’m sorry.”
The woman turned to Alyssa. “Get out now while you can honey.” Then she turned her furious eyes on Max and spat out two words, “It’s Iris,” before stomping away and leaving a stunned Alyssa staring at Max.
“You didn’t even remember their names?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
Max hung his head. “To be honest, I didn’t even know their names to begin with most of the time.”
“How many have there been?”
Max’s eyes slid to the side, avoiding the questions. “More than I’d like to tell you, but there wasn’t a woman every weekend. It was just a different woman every time.”
Alyssa sucked in her breath, disgusted and shocked. All the walls that had been crumbling the past week began rebuilding rapidly.
“But I’m not like that anymore,” Max hurried on. He reached for her hand, but Alyssa pulled it back and folded it in her lap. “I don’t want that life anymore. Peyton changed me. You changed me.”
“Stop,” she said, holding up her hand. Though her heart wanted to believe him, every other sensible part of her body was screaming at her to run, that he would be just like the guy in college. “I don’t know what to think right now, and I need a little time to process.”
Her heart ached when she saw Max’s face fall, but she must protect herself. The food arrived a few minutes after, but the mood was broken. They finished their food in silence and opted for no dessert. This was not the night she had been hoping for. Would going out with Max be like this all the time? Even if he had changed, would the endless parade of his past never cease?
Max stared at Alyssa across the table and let out a small sigh. This was not the night he had been hoping for. He had wanted to show her the new Max, but Iris showing up had just reminded her of his past, and he couldn’t blame her.
The look on Iris’s face had been one of anger but also guilt. He had never thought about how the women must feel the next day when he didn’t call them back or return their calls, but as he looked at Alyssa’s face, he could see a sadness there that he imagined the other women must have felt, especially because he hadn’t been honest about his intentions.
The rest of the meal passed in silence, torturing him. He wanted to try to explain himself, but she had made it clear that she needed space, and if he was going to prove he’d changed, then he would have to honor her wishes.
He didn’t try to hold her hand as they walked back to the car, but he did still open the door for her. She flashed him a tight smile, but even that small gesture encouraged him. He might have to work harder, but the fact that she was looking at him at all, was a start.
The ride back to his house was also mute, but as he pulled into the driveway, he tried one more time. “Alyssa, I’m really sorry. This isn’t how I wanted the night to go. I know I have a past, but I am trying to change.”
“I believe you are.” Her voice was quiet, but at least she was looking at him. “I just need some time to think things over. Will you tell Peyton good night for me?”
“Wait, don’t you want to take your flowers?”
A look of indecision crossed her face, but after a sigh, she agreed and followed him into the house.
“Aunt Lyssa. You’re back.”
“We sure are, sweetie. Did you have fun with Helen?”
It floored Max how she could turn on her happy voice that quickly when she had been reserved with him for the last hour.
“Uh huh.” Peyton nodded her head up and down enthusiastically.
“We made dinner and then we colored,” Helen said, rising from the table. She looked from Alyssa to Max but said nothing though Max could see the questions in her eyes.
“That’s great. Well, I have an early day tomorrow, so I’m going to get my flowers and call it a night. I’ll see you soon, Peyton.” With a quick nod at Max, Alyssa turned and walked out of the kitchen.
“Peyton, why don’t you go play with your doll for a minute while I chat with Max?” Though it was meant as a question, it came out more like a statement from Helen’s mouth, and Peyton agreed without arguing. “I take it the night didn’t go as planned.”
Max sighed and ran his hand across his forehead. “No, it started off well, but then a woman from my past showed up and told Alyssa not to trust me. It was awful, Helen. I finally felt like I was making progress, but now I feel like I’m back at square one.”
Helen motioned for him to sit at the bar and then crossed to the stove and set the kettle to boiling. As if she owned the place, she rummaged around in the pantry for tea and pulled out two mugs. Max watched her, waiting for words of wisdom, but she said nothing as she waited for the kettle to boil. When it started to whistle, she flicked the knob to off and poured steaming water into both mugs before joining him at the bar.
“Back in England, we believe that tea can help your mind think more clearly. Drink up.” She lifted her own mug to her lips and Max followed suit though he wasn’t usually a tea drinker. “Your past is not something you can change, but you can change your future.”
“What’s the point of changing my future if my past is always going to rear its ugly head?” Max took another sip of the warm liquid, surprised to find that he liked it.
“Perhaps it is because you are trying to change superficially?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you are trying to change your actions, but you’re trying to do it all alone. We are all imperfect creatures, and as hard as we try, we will all make mistakes, but those of us who have Jesus in our lives get the extra help of the Holy Spirit inside us. He helps us make better decisions and people can often see a physical change from having him inside.”
“I’ve been going to church, but I’m not sure I’m ready to make a decision like that.”
Helen smiled as she sipped her tea. “Then are you sure you’re ready to seriously date a woman who is?”
Her words rattled around in his head as he pondered them. Was his lack of faith keeping them apart? Would that be enough to convince her he had really changed?
“What’s up with you?” Roxy asked as Alyssa entered the door of their shared apartment.
“It’s Max. We had dinner tonight, and it was going great, but then one of his one-night stands recognized him and came over. She told me not to trust him, and now I don’t know what to think.” Alyssa collapsed on the couch, dropping her head into her hands.
Roxy shut the book she was reading to give her full attention to Alyssa. “I know I met him, but all I saw was his hotness. How old is he?”
“I don’t know. Late twenties, I guess.” Alyssa’s voice was muffled by her hands.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but not everyone grew up in faith like you. For those of us who didn’t, sleeping with people isn’t unheard of. In fact, most of us do it a lot.”
“I know that, but he is—or was—I don’t know, a serial one-night stander. What if he just wants one night with me? What if he’s like Tyson?”
“Who’s Tyson?”
Alyssa dropped her hands and looked up at Roxy. “You know Tyson, the guy from my Freshman year who onl
y wanted to sleep with me and dumped me when I wouldn’t?”
“Ah.” Roxy nodded, her blond hair skimming her shoulders with the motion. Roxy wasn’t around when Tyson happened, but Alyssa had filled her in during one of their late-night conversations about why she was waiting for marriage to be intimate. “Well, you said Max was trying to change, right?”
Alyssa nodded as she grabbed the pillow next to her and hugged it to her chest.
“Okay, then you have to understand he can’t change his past. It’s always going to be there. You have to decide if you are okay with it or not.”
Though the words made perfect sense in her head, that was the problem. She wasn’t sure if she could find a way to be okay with it or not.
Chapter 15
Max picked up his phone and punched the button again. The welcome screen flashed the time, but no new messages. He hadn’t heard from Alyssa since she left Tuesday night, and it was now Friday. He wanted to give her time, but now he wondered if he should call her and try pleading his case again.
“Hey man,” Justin said poking his head in the door.
Max dropped the phone, sending it clattering across the desk.
“Still no word, huh?”
“No, do you think I should call her?”
“I think,” Justin said, crossing the floor to sit in the chair opposite Max’s desk, “that you should come out with me tonight. Everyone is going to be there, and it will get your mind off this woman for a bit. Maybe it will clear your thinking, and you’ll know what you want to do tomorrow.”
“I don’t know.” Max’s words came out in a large sigh. “I don’t feel like partying much anymore and you remember what happened last time.”
“You don’t have to party. Just come and have a few drinks with us.” Justin leaned in, placing his hands on the desk. “Everyone has been asking about you man, and it’s my birthday. Just come say ‘hi,’ at least.”
Max pressed the button on the phone one more time even though he knew she hadn’t called or texted as he would have heard it. The screen was indeed blank of any contact. Just the time of 5:55 on his screen. “Okay,” he sighed, “let me call Helen and ask if she can stay a little later with Peyton.”
Justin smiled and pumped his fist near his chest. “Awesome, it will be great to have you back. Billionaire Banks rides again.”
Max wasn’t back as he was only going because it was Justin’s birthday. He picked up his phone and called Helen, who agreed to watch Peyton until he returned home. She didn’t comment on his decision to go out, but he could hear the admonishing tone in her voice.
“All right, let’s go,” he said when the clock struck six. Knowing Justin, he had this party set at one of the hotspots that had a happy hour. Hopefully, Max could get in, grab a few drinks, and then find a nice way to excuse himself so he could go home and indulge in his misery. He snickered at the thought as he realized he was becoming like the women he so desperately avoided.
They decided to take two cars, so Max could leave when he wanted. Plus, Justin would probably be taking a woman home, and Max had no plan to do so.
Sure enough, they pulled into Club Z, a popular hangout for the after-work crowd in their late twenties and thirties. Max sighed as he exited the car. Club Z was always full of beautiful women looking to meet up with the newest guy, and for some reason, they seemed to be able to smell his wealth.
The bouncer was a broad man about their age with bulging biceps and brick shoulders, and he waved them through without bothering to check their IDs. He knew them both by sight; that was how often they came here.
Inside, the club was dimly lit. Couches and tables filled one end of the room for those not dancing who wanted to try to hold a conversation. An expansive dance floor took up the middle space. The DJ booth sat in the middle above it, blasting out the latest hip hop songs. Though it was early, the crowd on the dance floor was already large and the bodies were jockeying for positions. To the left was the bar. Three bartenders in white shirts manned the bar, grabbing glasses from a silver rack above it and filling them with liquid to hand either to the waitress or the patrons.
“Let’s get a couch,” Max yelled and pointed to the right. Justin nodded, and the two secured a large brown couch as far away from the music as possible. “Great place for conversations.” The sarcasm was evident in Max’s voice. Though the music was quieter here, he still was forced to raise his voice to be heard.
“We aren’t here to converse.” Justin flashed him an eyebrow raise and motioned the waitress over.
“Right.” Max looked down at his watch, wishing he had just said ‘no’ and gone home to Peyton. She’d be eating dinner right now and filling him in on her day. Maybe she would have even heard from Alyssa, who still seemed to be stopping in to see Peyton even though she was avoiding Max, and could give him some Intel. He should have just swallowed his pride and called Alyssa to try to smooth things over again.
“Max, how are you buddy? Heard you got shackled with a kid.” Chris Moore, another friend of Justin’s, slid onto the couch next to him.
“I wouldn’t call it shackled. Peyton is great. I’m glad I’m getting the chance to know her.” Max tried to keep his voice light, but inside he was seething. Was this what he sounded like a few weeks ago? The thought created a wad of disgust in his throat.
“What’ll you have?” The waitress, a blond woman in tight black shorts and a tighter white shirt, stood looking at him.
“Just a coke, thanks,” Max said, but Justin jumped in before the woman could leave.
“Uh-uh, man, you promised to have at least one drink.”
“Fine, a rum and coke then, but just one.”
The waitress raised her eyebrow as if she had heard that line before and traipsed back to the bar.
Before she returned with their drinks, three women joined them at the couch. It was clear from their glassy eyes that they had been drinking and were well on their way to being drunk.
“My name is Amber,” the brunette who had decided to leach onto Max said. She was pretty with dark hair and brown eyes, though she wore more makeup than he generally preferred, but she didn’t hold a candle to Alyssa.
“Max,” he said and scooted just a bit away from her. She didn’t take the hint though and curled up even closer to him.
“I like Max, like Mad Max, you know that old show? You kind of even look like Mel Gibson.” She placed her hand on his arm and batted her eyes.
He did look a little like Mel Gibson, albeit it a younger version, but the flattery did nothing for him this time. The waitress returned with their drinks before he could respond, and Max tossed back a swig of the drink.
“Ooh, can I have a strawberry daiquiri?” the woman beside him asked. Her friends quickly chimed in with their orders as well.
The waitress raised her brow and glanced at the men. The silent question of who was claiming responsibility for these drunk girls was evident in her stare.
“Don’t worry,” Justin said, “We’ll make sure they get home okay.”
Max wanted to kick him. He didn’t want to have to worry about getting these women home; he hadn’t planned on staying that long.
After another long look, the waitress shrugged and walked off to fill the girls’ order.
“So, what do you do?” The woman was competing for his attention again.
“I work in advertising.” Another swig and his drink was half gone. He might have to order another just to get through another hour in this place. Chris and his woman had meandered to the dance floor though Max wasn’t sure you could classify what they were doing as dancing.
“Do you want to dance?” Amber asked, following his gaze.
“No, I don’t dance.”
The waitress returned with frothy, fruity drinks for the women and Max was granted a few minutes of blissful relief as Amber sucked her straw.
“Another?” the waitress asked, nodding her head at his nearly empty drink.
Max glanced down
at the drink, then at the woman next to him. “One more,” he said, though he promised himself he wouldn’t.
By the time his second drink arrived, Amber had finished her first and was back to rambling on, this time about her exercise routine. Her lithe physique hadn’t gone unnoticed—though he had tried his best to avoid his gaze lingering there—but he didn’t need her regimen detailed either.
“I’m going to hit the bathroom. I’ll be back in a minute.” He hated having to announce his intentions to the woman, but it would be rude to just get up and walk away.
The bathroom was over by the bar, so he was forced to traverse the crowd on the dance floor to get there. At least twice, female hands reached out to him to entice him to dance, and he had to untangle himself from their grips.
Finally, he reached his destination and pushed open the men’s room door. A few minutes later, he was navigating the gauntlet again to return to the table.
Only Amber sat there now, nursing another drink. “Where is Justin and your friend?”
She giggled and shrugged. “I think they left, if you get my meaning.”
Max sighed. Just what he needed. “Okay, well how about your other friend?”
Another shrug. “Haven’t seen her either.”
Annoyance flared through him as his eyes rolled. “Right, well I can’t leave you here alone, and I’m leaving, so I guess you’re coming with me.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” She fell against his chest as she tried to stand.
Max wrapped an arm around her to steady her and led her to the bar to settle his tab. The bartender flashed him an eyebrow wiggle and a knowing smile which Max ignored as he signed the receipt.
Amber was nearly passed out as he got her to the door. The outside air woke her just enough to allow her to stumble to the car. Max had to hold her up more than once as they crossed the parking lot. She was in no shape to tell him where she lived.
He folded her into the passenger seat where she curled up and closed her eyes. Great, what now? He whipped out his phone to call Justin, hoping her friend had drank less and could give him directions, but the call went to voicemail.
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