Maxen (Kinky Shine Book 2)

by Stephanie Witter

  “Yeah, thanks.’’ I hung up and dropped my phone next to me on the couch, covering my eyes with my forearm. “Eight to nine fucking months.’’

  “No, no, no, no,” she protested. “It needs to be sooner.’’

  I pulled my arm away and glared at her. “Do you fucking think it’s my idea of fun? Damn, Lark. I’m going to have the fucking paparazzi on my ass for months. They’re going to dig up all the dirt they can find on me and on my friends. Get your head out of your ass for a minute. Lover boy isn’t going anywhere.’’

  “Don’t talk to me like that, Maxen.’’

  I scoffed and jumped to my feet, walking away.

  “Hey! Where are you going?’’

  I didn’t answer and kept on walking until I was outside standing at one end of the pool watching the sky turning red and pink as the day was about to come to an end. I’d lie if I said I had never thought about facing Lark again one day, but I never expected it to go so bad and to want both to kiss the hell out of her and strangle her. It was like college all over again, and yet it was very different. For starters, she’s not single anymore.

  I took a deep breath and pushed through the dark need creeping in, the need to get out of my own skin, to get high. I was nowhere near to falling off the wagon, but it’s tempting enough that I couldn’t deny it was there, lurking.

  Light footfalls reached my ears, but I didn’t turn around. I felt her walking around me until she was standing in front of me, her hands on her hips and her face tilted upward to face me.

  “You’re an asshole, you know that? I never asked for all of this.’’

  “And I didn’t either.’’

  She nodded slowly and kept her eyes riveted to mine. They took hold of me and I was a goner. “I know. I don’t remember much, but I know it’s not your fault. We both said ‘I do’.’’

  She dropped her hands from her hips and crossed her arms in front of her as if to protect herself from me. It’s pretty damn laughable considering she’s the one doing a number on me without knowing it. “You’re right. My boyfriend proposed the other night and I had to tell him that I’m already married. It didn’t go so well.’’ She swallowed loudly and looked away, her eyes while not bursting into tears were sad. “He told me to leave, you know. I told Alan it’s easily salvageable as soon as I’m single on paper again, but honestly, I don’t know anymore. He was so mad.’’ She ended on a whisper, her voice so fragile that it’s hard for me not to take her in my arms and comfort her, but that wasn’t how we rolled. If I moved to her, she would slap me for all I knew. So I kept my arms at my sides and ignored the damn tingles in them. I also shut my eyes to the burning sensation taking hold of me when she talked about her man.

  “If he proposed, he’s not going to let you go like that, Lark.’’

  “I’m not so sure. He’s a proud man and he…has a certain view of me. I don’t think a divorcee at twenty-five is going to impress him.’’

  What a douche. If he turned his back on her for that, for so little, then he didn’t deserve her. I wasn’t into the love bullshit, and I didn’t really believe in forever between two people, but I did believe that a woman like Lark deserved a lot more than that. She deserved to be treated like a queen and feel like she’s the most important person in the world. But that too I couldn’t tell her.

  Instead, I decided to change the subject and push away all these things I didn’t understand and felt when she was around me. “Have you booked a room at a hotel?’’

  She bit her lower lip and shook her head. “I booked the first flight here and completely forgot anything else. If you know of a reasonably priced hotel…’’

  “Hey, we may not be friends, but you’re my wife. I can’t let you stay at some crap hotel.’’ I pointed at my house behind me. “There are five guest bedrooms. And don’t give me some bullshit about not staying under the same roof as me.’’

  “What if you have company tonight? I wouldn’t feel comfortable.’’

  “Nobody is coming here tonight. Dex and his girl, Harley, often stop by or I go to their place next door, but I know they’re supposed to have dinner with her parents.’’ I looked back at the sky and took the time to enjoy that simple thing. I had a luxurious home and lived off what I loved the most, music. I had a life people envied me for. I couldn’t keep on bitching because Lark was here but not here for me. I couldn’t wish for something I didn’t have; a family. I should only enjoy what I did have, and that’s something I was still working on. Some days were harder than others, and I didn’t have it in me to hide behind huge smiles anymore. Sometimes I wondered if I would ever be able to again.

  Lark turned around and finally watched the sky turning a deeper red as some thin clouds formed gold lines. “It’s beautiful. It doesn’t feel like we’re in LA.’’

  “It’s peaceful, huh? Otis and Beckett live in the heart of the city, but I don’t know how they do it. We have a busy life, and it’s good to have a place to breathe at the end of the day.’’

  “That doesn’t sound like you at all.’’

  I looked down at her and found her eyes already on me, curious. “Maybe you have a wrong image of me.’’ I blinked a few times before I let her ocean blue eyes trap me and turned back toward the house. “Come on. I’ll show you the rooms and give you some time to settle down. I know I’m not your first pick of company, so if you want me to call Otis and Beckett to come and eat with us, let me know.’’

  “I don’t mind being alone with you.’’

  “This is new,’’ I mumbled as I led the way up the stairs with Lark on my heels and my blood rushing south and a dead weight heavy on my heart.

  LARK

  Waking up in a strange bed again after my night at the hotel was disconcerting, but when my brain kick-started, and I remembered that I wasn’t in Manhattan anymore, but in LA and at Maxen’s, I sat up quickly and looked around.

  I had picked the first bedroom he showed me yesterday, and I wasn’t disappointed. The room was mostly decorated in white and cream, and with the beautiful sunrise casting an orange glow to the room since I had forgotten to close the curtains, it’s breathtaking.

  I was sure Maxen’s room was a lot bigger than this one, but this room made me envious when I compared it to the bedroom I had in New York with Caleb. Maxen’s guestroom didn’t have much in terms of furniture other than a huge four poster bed and a couple of dressers, but it made it easy to breathe. It’s funny how I was only now realizing how it’s easy to forget how to breathe. Adult life did that if you didn’t pay attention.

  I stretched and gingerly climbed out of bed, reluctant to leave the soft covers. I quickly made my way to the bathroom and this time around I was able to keep my mouth closed as I stripped off the old college t-shirt I liked to sleep in and the plain white cotton panties to walk in the big Italian shower. When the hot water fell on me and started working on easing the kinks in my back from the nerves and the hours spent turning and twisting thinking about Maxen and my marriage to him, it’s hard not to moan with pleasure.

  Caleb and I rented a very nice apartment in Manhattan, but it’s nowhere near as luxurious as Maxen’s house was and I found it funny. I had pictured him living in a huge modern loft in the heart of the city, not in the hills in a gorgeous house that could be easily called a family home. Maybe he was right after all. Maybe I did have a wrong image of him, and that’s one of the thoughts that had kept me awake until late, or early in the morning.

  Last night, dinner had been rather calm, if not dead. We barely talked and as soon as he was finished with his meal, a delivered pizza, he excused himself and went straight to his room upstairs. He hadn’t made fun of me, laughed at my expense or spent minutes flirting on the phone with some woman that would make a very, very short appearance in his life. In one evening, he had me doubting my thoughts.

  I stepped out of the shower and finished getting ready. I didn’t put any makeup on and barely took the time to brush my wet hair before leaving my tem
porary room to find the kitchen and something to eat when my stomach started to growl.

  Downstairs, I looked around but didn’t hear a single sound. Was Maxen still asleep? Damn, I never thought I’d ever be in the position of sharing a roof with him. I wasn’t used to tiptoeing around him and staying at his house didn’t put me at an advantage.

  Life was a mess for sure.

  I scowled at my thoughts and at my heart beating weirdly at the prospect of facing my host so early this morning. I walked into the living room and located the way to the kitchen I knew was painted in white and light gray.

  I stopped cold on the threshold.

  Facing away from me, Maxen was standing at the kitchen island and checking his phone. His right arm moved every now and then to bring what I suppose was cereal to his mouth. The muscles in his back and on his arm moved, flexed and rippled at his every move. His skin, mostly covered in tattoos, looked tight and smooth under the early sun rays. Hanging low on his hips was black boardshorts, revealing the dimples in the small of his back right above the waistband. My eyes trailed down, and I noticed his big feet bare on the tiled floor. His muscled calves and shins were covered with light hair, the same color as his blonde head and that made him look all the more manly.

  I shook my head at myself for ogling him as if I had never seen a man wearing so little and started walking again. My bare feet didn’t make a sound on the floor, so I cleared my throat loudly to announce my arrival.

  Maxen’s shoulders tensed and the muscles there bunched as his grip on the small spoon became deadly. His knuckles turned white.

  “Hi,’’ I said with a small voice, trying like hell not to look down his chest. I rounded the kitchen island and stood in front of him. But it’s impossible to prevent my eyes from wandering over his heavily muscled chest and the tattoos that covered a lot of skin. But while his impressive pecs and his well-defined abs and the obliques leading down in his boardshorts had my attention at first, my eyes zeroed in on the necklace around his neck and the ring at the end, falling right between his pecs.

  I had seen enough pictures of him and the band to know it’s a silver ring, simple and cheap looking. But up until now, I had never realized what that ring was.

  I pointed at it with a trembling hand, my eyes riveted to it. His pecs flexed once and his abs tensed. “Is it…?’’

  “Yeah. It’s my wedding band from Vegas,’’ he answered with a rough voice that made me shiver unexpectedly.

  My eyes sought his, and I was taken aback by the sadness I found in his before he put on a mask of what I knew was fake nonchalance as he grinned at me with that bright smile that made him a favorite among most women. And now that Dex was openly taken, I was sure it’s getting worse, or better depending on how you saw things.

  “You kept it?’’ I made a move to touch it, leaning over the kitchen island but pulled back when he tensed further and stopped breathing. “Why?’’

  He shrugged and dropped the spoon into his now empty bowl. “It’s not important. If you want to eat something, the fridge is full, and there are a few cereal boxes in the cupboard over there,’’ he replied and pointed at the cupboard closest to the fridge.

  I frowned at him, beyond frustrated by his ability to brush things off like that. “Why do you keep your wedding band around your neck?’’ I repeated, my voice colder and a lot more assured. I couldn’t remember a time when my blood boiled like it did now unless I counted the times in college when he would drive me crazy until I thought of ways of getting away with murder.

  At that moment, all I wanted was an answer. I needed that answer.

  I put my hands palm down on the top of the kitchen island and reveled in the cold marble contrasting with my burning skin.

  Maxen kept his green eyes on mine, and I saw the moment when he went from fake nonchalance to annoyance, and then embarrassment was written all over his face. That’s when he finally looked away and fixed his empty bowl. He took a deep breath, and his big shoulders slumped.

  “I don’t fucking know, Lark. That’s the damn truth,’’ he said gruffly, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “I didn’t keep mine,’’ I said equally low, my voice shaking like I hadn’t heard it shake a lot in my life. Many emotions ran through me, probably too much, and in turn, I was kind of oddly numb as if my whole body shut down to protect myself.

  He snorted and nodded to himself before he looked up and smiled at me that same annoying smile he used to give me. It stretched his lips upward and showed off his teeth with the right canine slightly crooked from what Dex told me came from a nasty fight when they were juniors in high school. “Why doesn’t it surprise me, huh?’’

  “What is that supposed to mean?’’

  He shrugged and grabbed his bowl to load it into the dishwasher. I watched him move around his kitchen with an ease and a confidence that I had always witnessed only with this man. His muscles, a lot more defined than I remembered them being back in college, moved in an enticing dance that flustered me while the necklace dangled with the thick band gleaming in the morning light coming through the tall windows in the kitchen. I shouldn’t find his body so captivating, but I wasn’t blind, and I’d rather focus on his body than on the fact that he held onto a trinket that was a direct memory of our sham marriage.

  “Maxen, what is that supposed to mean?’’

  He sighed, and before he left the kitchen, he turned back to me. His eyes narrowed into slits. “You’ve always seen me as the idiot of the group, the guy who doesn’t care about anything and everybody but himself. You wouldn’t believe that I care sometimes.’’

  “I know you care about my cousin and Dex, Otis, and Beckett. I know you care about music. I don’t see what it has anything to do with the wedding band around your damn neck!’’

  He stalked to me with long strides, and I was frozen right in the middle of the vast kitchen, glued there by his angry green eyes on me. When he reached me, he stopped a breath from me and pointed at my face with a thick finger. His blonde eyebrows were lowered over his eyes, darkening them. His lips weren’t smiling at all. And under his blonde stubble, I saw his flushed cheeks.

  “You’ve always told me I’d put myself first. But you don’t know shit about me, Lark, and I’ve had enough of it. You want to know why I keep that fucking ring on me? It’s because I never thought I’d get married and that shit means something to me. I’ve tried forgetting it, but I can’t. It’s not something I could or should sweep under the fucking rug because it’s easier that way. I wanted the damn reminder on me.’’ He’s breathing loud and fast, but he didn’t step back or lower his finger from near my nose. And I couldn’t look away from the blaze in his eyes. “I’m not fucking perfect, but I’m not a selfish bastard either. You want to picture me as the bad guy here? Fine! But keep it to yourself.’’

  He turned away and took a deep breath, leaning against the counter near the fridge. He crossed his big arms over his heaving chest. “I’m supposed to meet the band, Floyd, and Harley next door at Dex’s. I’m going to get ready, so you have ten minutes to decide if you want to tag along or stay here.’’ And without waiting for my answer, he walked away and up the staircase while I was left with my mouth gaping in the kitchen.

  ***

  MAXEN

  The cold shower hadn’t helped a damn thing. I was still raging mad and hard as a fucking rock. I ran the blue towel through my hair with a lot more energy than necessary. In my haste, I tore at some strands, and I cursed in my quiet bedroom.

  When in here, I was usually calm. With the light paint job on the walls, the cathedral ceiling and the huge bay windows opening to a balcony, this was the dream master bedroom. But right now, I didn’t see any of that. All I saw was Lark’s face going from pissed to scared.

  It’s the first time I had ever seen fear on her face, and I was the one who initiated it. I didn’t know if her words pissed me off the most or her reaction to my outburst.

  I closed my eyes and conjured u
p the words from the therapist at the rehab center.

  “You must find your happy place when you feel your emotions are getting out of control. Close your eyes and take deep breaths.’’

  But there’s no happy place when I closed my eyes. I didn’t see my drums and a quiet room, things that had always brought me comfort over the years. All I saw was Lark always and forever out of my reach, always driving me crazy with everything and anything.

  I re-opened my eyes and grabbed the light gray t-shirt with the band’s logo from my unmade bed. Without another look around, I put it on and started walking out of my room and back down to my very own pain in the ass wife.

  My heart did that weird thing again when the word wife crossed my mind. I had never forgotten I was a married man—even if on paper only—but with her here it was more significant.

  I tugged my t-shirt down right when I started down the stairs, and I came face to face with her, arms crossed over her breasts, pushing them closer together. With her low cut blouse and her swelling breasts, it’s damn impossible for me to look away from them. I was normally more of an ass man, but with her, I was a leg man, an ass man, and a fucking breast man. My cock twitched in my jeans, and I cursed myself and my damn libido. It’d been too long.

  “I’m coming with you. It’s not like I have anything to do, but don’t worry. I’ll book a plane back home for tomorrow.’’

  I gritted my teeth and nodded, but she didn’t pay me any attention. She’s already walking to the front door. I hated the idea of her leaving so soon already, but it’s ridiculous. It’s not like she could stay here with her job back in New York. And even without her job on the line, there’s no reason for her to want to stay here with me. Lover boy must already have contacted her by now.

  I put on my old biker boots and followed her out of the house, locking up behind me. And once again, she took me aback when she stood in front of me, her eyes trained on my chest. It took me a moment to catch up to what she was looking at. For a brief and insane moment, I thought she was checking me out.