by Mariah Dietz
Kendall screams as they begin stalking toward us and I follow her as we begin backing up, trying to gauge their intentions.
“I’d run if I were you two,” Mom teases.
I glance to Kendall and then take off. I hear her clamor up the stairs, shrieking, as I tear around a couple of corners and dash downstairs with Max uncomfortably close behind me. Once I reach the basement, I turn to face him with the pool table between us. Even with my pulse racing and my breath coming in quick spurts, a giant smile is painted across my face.
“Truce!” I laugh, holding out my hands in surrender. “I waive the white flag.”
Max shakes his head and the mischievous grin on his face confirms this is far from over. I slowly edge myself to one side of the table, and Max shadows my every move, crouched like a cougar as his eyes remain fixed on me. We do this dance for a couple minutes before he makes a sudden lunge across the table, catching me completely off guard. He’s nearly able to get my arm as it takes me a second too long to react. I fall to the ground and crawl under the table and then sprint down the dark hallway, ducking into Jenny’s old bedroom. I stoop beside her old armoire and pull my knees to my chest as I try to control my breathing. My heart beats so fast and loud I can hear it in my ears making me nearly miss the quiet padding of Max’s feet. I watch through the tiniest crack between the armoire and the wall as he creeps into the room. I stop breathing in fear that he’ll hear me and watch him stand in the doorway for a long moment before retreating just as quietly.
Slowly, I stand up, straining to hear any sign as to where he might’ve gone. I quietly make my way to the hall and catch sight of him as he walks into Mindi’s old room. For a split second I contemplate trying to scare him, but the knowledge that success in doing so will guarantee me a trip into the swimming pool stops me.
I quietly turn, keeping my eyes on Mindi’s room, and run into a solid object. I whip my head around as Jameson yells, “Boo!” Then I hear Max’s approaching steps.
Jameson releases his hold around my waist as Max heaves me over his shoulder and takes me back into Mindi’s room. I catch sight of Jameson as we cross the threshold, grinning happily over his shoulder as he makes his way back to the stairs.
Max drops me in the middle of Mindi’s old bed and doesn’t hesitate before he begins ruthlessly tickling my sides. I giggle and squirm, pleading for him to stop. Eventually he pauses, hovering above me, his eyes level with mine. “You threw vegetables at me!” He moves his hands to rest on either side of my head. My heart beats so hard it’s difficult for me not to focus on it, until Max leans a little closer, and the scent of him invades my every thought.
I stare at his dark hair that looks so soft my fingers itch to run through it. Slowly my eyes drop to his and I find that he’s looking at me with a promise of something that awakens every nerve ending in my body. It’s so intense I have to look away. My focus drops instantly to his lips as his tongue slowly rolls out, wetting them, and stirs the rush of emotions that are running through me like lava, lighting every inch of my skin on fire. I divert my attention to his jaw, where the hint of a five o’clock shadow dares me to run my fingers across it and feel its sharp contrast. My eyes snap back to his, which are locked on my lips, and for the first time in my life, I don’t weigh the options or overanalyze anything. The tiny voice I hear in the back of my mind when I make decisions, even inebriated, is absent.
I grip Max’s face with both of my hands and eagerly crush my lips to his as my fingers continue around the back of his neck, holding him to me as they lace together. My lips burn with heat as my body automatically arches to feel his as I experience my first taste of Max; it’s consuming and blinding, and more fulfilling than I could have possibly imagined.
A small groan climbs from the back of Max’s throat as I catch his lower lip with my teeth, encouraging me as I gently tug on it before lightly swiping my tongue over the same spot. I feel his arms press down on either side of my head as he begins to pull back from me, and my eyes flash open as the fear that I’ve just crossed a line that he didn’t want me to grips me. Before I can finish processing the thought, Max’s eyes open. They’re warm and heavy with lust as they search mine. The right corner of his lip quirks up in a half smile, and he reaches a hand to the back of my head, pulling my mouth to his, and takes over. There’s a silent demand behind his kiss that I instantly surrender to.
Max stands up, not breaking our kiss, as his hands run down my sides and over my hips. He clutches the bottom of my thighs in his hands, urging me to wrap my legs around his waist which I do without a second thought. He lifts me easily, pressing my body against his. My fingers run through his hair and over his neck, and I wrap my arms around him. I feel the wall at my back as Max’s left hand cradles my face, and his tongue slowly slides across my upper lip, making me feel half crazed. The urge to feel every inch of Max against every inch of my body consumes me. I ball my hands into his shirt, working to pull myself closer. His chin dips and his lips glide along the side of my neck, tracing the same path with the tip of his nose, before tightening his grip on my thighs and fusing his mouth back to mine.
“Ace!” Kendall’s voice carries down the stairs, startling us both and interrupting the most intense kiss of my life. Max lets out a deep breath, gently dropping his forehead to mine. His chest rises against mine in fast bursts. I can still taste his breath lingering on my lips, and I can’t stop my tongue from sliding out to savor it. My lips feel smoother and hyper sensitive, feeling his every breath and storing them each to memory.
Max takes in a deep breath as I reluctantly unwrap my legs from around his waist. His hands slowly lower me to the hardwood floors.
“We’re doing this,” he says, still keeping my body pinned against the wall, his eyes boring into mine. “No more excuses, it’s our turn.” Max dips his face catching my lips once more with his in a desperate kiss that has me wondering if Max is talking about sex here, or something more.
“Ace!” Kendall calls again, causing Max to take a step back as he sucks in a labored breath. The irony is not lost on me that if Kendall knew what we were actually doing down here she’d likely be barricading the stairwell.
“We should go. I don’t want your parents to ban me from your house,” Max says, running a hand over his hair.
I take a breath, still not able to speak after that kiss, and nod.
“I’ll follow you,” he says, taking another step back and gesturing toward the doorway.
“Don’t trust my self-control?” I tease, running a hand through my hair to ensure that it doesn’t reflect what just occurred.
My entire body tingles as his fingers graze the top of my cheekbone. My eyes lock onto his and I watch them shine brightly in the dim glow of the room. His fingers trail down my face, stopping when he reaches my jaw. He gently holds my chin and firmly presses his thumb to the center of my bottom lip, like he knows it’s burning. His eyes blaze with excitement, and rather than feeling relief from the coolness the pad of his thumb offers, the contrast sends an exhilarating current through me. How can one simple touch be so intimate? I try to focus on breathing when I hear Kendall yell my name once again, this time sounding more agitated. I take a deep breath as Max takes another step away from me, his hand slipping from my face as his eyes stay focused on mine.
“She’s going to come looking for you in a second.”
I nod, knowing he’s right and hating that fact. I take a few steps forward, slightly terrified to leave the safety of this room, fearing that once we step out of here the world will reappear and we will lose this moment, this attraction, and heat.
“Plus, this way I get a great view,” he says, lightly slapping my butt. Apparently Max isn’t too concerned.
“What’s taking you guys so long?” Kendall whines. She doesn’t look suspicious at all, just annoyed. I turn to face her, conjuring up my best look of innocence.
“Jameson says it’s either poker or twister.” Kendall dramatically closes her eyes. �
��There’s no way I’m playing Twister this sober, so we’re—” Kendall stops and tilts her head to the side looking from me to Max and then back to me again. Her chin angles a little further to the side as her eyes grow wide and her mouth forms into a look of shock and surprise.
“Oh my God, you guys finally—” Max’s hand wraps around my hip, pulling me against his side where he holds me tightly.
“Strip poker works for me too,” Jameson interrupts, rounding the corner with a deck of cards in his hand.
“They’re finally …” Kendall starts waving her hands in the air, making large gestures and then pressing them together. “I can’t believe it! That took so flipping long!”
Jameson’s eyes dance from Kendall to Max and me, the scar on his lower lip more pronounced from his giant smile.
Heat rises to my face as I try to return the smile when Max’s, Kendall’s, and Jameson’s phones all go off in a chorus of chimes and vibrations. I look over to Max as he fishes his phone out, and Kendall laughs, scrolling through her phone.
“Now we’re in trouble,” she says, holding her phone out to me. “Mom’s learning to text.”
I wince at the reality as I accept her phone. Our mother is technologically inept to the point it’s painful. Our Grandmother understands texting and computers better. My eyes scan over the message several times to interpret it through the spelling errors, and then I look at the picture she sent of the kitchen: a mess with food strewn across the table, chairs, and floor.
Mom: Sorry y’all missssed dinner we had one hell of a bottle tonihtg.
Their phones continue chiming as people start responding. The worst part of texts being sent to a group is everyone gets the replies as well.
“Who’s Tina?” Jameson asks, reading one of the messages. I look over to his phone, reading a reply from a California area code:
So glad ur texting, what did those girls do to the kitchen? Luv, Tina
“Probably someone she met at a grocery store five years ago,” I reply, only half joking.
“Why don’t we watch a movie? We’ll go to Max’s, no chick flicks tonight,” Jameson suggests, turning the volume on his phone down to silent as the messages continue to pour in.
I nod, glancing over to Max grinning, his fingers constricting as he pulls my back further into his side.
Once in Max’s basement, Kendall heads over to the stacks of movies and begins flipping through titles as Max goes on a quest for snacks, something that I’ve taught him is essential for vegging out. Though right now I don’t think I can eat anything. It feels like I’m going to take flight at any second from the swarms of butterflies in my stomach.
When Max returns with bags of processed sugar filled morsels, Kendall asks him to find some blankets. She stands beside me as Jameson gets the movie set up. I feel a little guilty that Landon is excluded, but Jameson assures us he’s content with a girl he met up in San Diego.
“Are blankets to hide wandering hands?” I tease, configuring my hand in the shape of a deformed spider and use my fingers like legs to crawl up her arm.
“I hope so,” she whispers.
I work to stifle my laugh as I shake my head at her.
“Mister pink peonies? God, seriously, I hope he rips your clothes off. Better yet, I hope you rip his clothes off.”
“Kendall!” I whisper, glancing back at the stairs to make sure Max hasn’t reappeared.
“What? Max is hot, and I have a feeling he’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.”
“Is this really the advice I’m going to get from my big sister?” I ask, not able to hold back the laugh that is half because I think she may be right, and half due to the embarrassment spreading through me like wildfire.
She rolls her eyes in return. “Enjoy it. He likes you, you like him! We’ll sit up front so you don’t feel like we’re watching.” She winks and then turns, slapping my butt.
“That kind of just turned me on,” Jameson admits, looking a bit dazed as he stares between us. I roll my eyes, tossing a throw pillow at his head as Max reappears, carrying an armful of blankets.
Making good on her word, Kendall grabs a blanket from Max’s arms and heads to the first couch, where they plop down in a heap with Kendall already giggling and shrieking.
I don’t know if Max senses my nerves. If he does, he attempts to vanquish them by grabbing a blanket and my hand and tugs me to the last couch pulling me down beside him. He casually drapes the blanket over our laps and stretches his arm over my shoulders so I’m a bit closer to his side.
The movie’s been playing at least thirty minutes before I realize I haven’t been paying attention to it. I honestly can’t recall a single scene or line. I’ve been completely lost in thought and I’m not even sure what I’ve been thinking about, just a big jumble of emotions, fears, and hopes that have been shooting through my mind like fireworks since our brief and heavy make out session.
My thoughts come to a halt as soft moans filter through the room from the direction of Kendall and Jameson, and I feel myself frown in disgust. The last thing I want to do right now is hear them doing … whatever it is that they’re doing.
Either Max understands, or has the same feelings. Taking my hand in his, he leads me to the stairwell. “The room’s yours,” he announces before heading up the stairs where we continue up to the second floor and into his room.
I haven’t been in here since Max was sick, and the memories of those three days hit me like an attack: Max’s comatose request for me to stalk him, the small pieces of him that I saw that had drawn me closer, and the hours that we lay together in his bed watching movies. My eyes flash to the bed and the familiar chocolate brown sheets. I’ve slept in those sheets! God I’m being a tween.
“Hey,” Max says, softly running a hand up my arm. I turn my attention over to him as he stands beside me, his brows knitting together as his eyes shift over my face. It’s his calculated, ‘I’m in your mind, reading everything you’re not saying’ face, and I smile to reassure him.
“We can go back to your house or go get some ice cream or something?”
I shake my head in protest. “No, really. I’m fine.”
“Ace, just because we’re in here, doesn’t mean … I mean I’m not expecting … anything.” His eyes are focused on mine. “Nothing is going to happen, unless you want it to.”
“I think that’s what makes me nervous.”
His eyes narrow with thought, trying to ascertain my admission.
“I really want this,” I quietly clarify, dropping my eyes to watch my thumbs and forefingers rub the hem of my green shorts.
Max’s hand gently wraps around my chin, and he lifts my gaze back to his. “I’m right here,” he says and then shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere.” He lowers his face to mine and kisses me once, softly on the lips. I feel a magnetic pull to him that makes me want to irrationally wrap myself around him.
“Let’s put on a movie,” Max says, releasing my face as he makes his way over to his TV and I think about his words, I’m not going anywhere. Am I worried about him going somewhere? Is that what this flustering panic is about, that I’m afraid he’s going to leave? Maybe.
“How about The Bourne series? If you get tired of looking at me, I hear Matt Damon is fun to watch,” he says, flipping through some movies.
“Sure.” I sit on the edge of his bed and watch as he slides the movie in. Seeing his large hands being so gentle and nimble brings me back to all of the times I’ve seen him working on his motorcycle or on Clementine with my dad and Kyle, carefully moving with precision and expertise on pieces that seemed too small for his hands.
Max stands and grabs a remote as my thoughts return to the here and now as he heads back to me.
“Alright, this is a four movie series, which means for the next three nights you’re going to have to be over here watching the entire series,” Max explains, standing in front of me.
“Are you asking me for a four day commitment?” I
tease.
“I’m just explaining the rules. If we start this, we’re not turning back. You need to make sure that you understand what you’re getting yourself into.” My eyes flash to his as the humor leaves his face and I realize he’s not referring to the next four nights. “No more trying to ignore your feelings and avoiding me.” I can’t tear my eyes away from his, which are staring at me with such intensity I’m tempted to sign away my soul and body if that’s what he’s asking for.
“Just you and me,” Max says, closing the last couple of inches between us. “But this decision is yours.” If only he knew that this decision was made long before this moment. “You need to say it,” he says, apparently sensing the fact that I’m preparing to agree to his terms with a kiss.
“You and me,” I repeat softly. “I understand.”
Max looks at me for a long moment, his blue eyes seeking something from mine. Apparently he finds it, because his face visibly relaxes, and then he closes the gap between us, pressing his lips firmly against mine with a new sense of urgency. The same heat returns filling my body with an undeniable fire that makes me feel like I’m going to combust.
Max breaks away and his eyes run a trail from mine to my lips several times before he grins. “It’s even better than I thought it would be.” My heart beats a bit faster at his words, increasing the need that I feel to continue this, continue kissing Max. He gives me a smile and turns to the TV, bringing the movie to life before climbing on the bed. He grabs my hand and gently tugs, motioning for me to join him, and I settle into the small mound of pillows at our back as he slips an arm around me, wrapping his hand around my hip and pulling me closer to him.
