Dare to Love (Maxwell #3)

by S. B. Alexander

  “Why are you still wearing that charm?” His jaw clenched.

  I held it up. “Is this what you’re scared of?” My voice hitched.

  He clutched his hair, his eyebrows knitting tighter than a well-made sweater. Then he grunted. “You want to know what scares the fuck out of me?” He scrubbed a hand down his face as he popped off the counter and drew closer to me so that we were an arm’s length apart. “I’m afraid of falling and hitting the ground so fucking hard my heart will explode. I’m afraid of you. I’m afraid of what your touch does to me. Of what your kisses promise me. Most of all”—he moved two steps nearer to me—“I’m afraid when you get on that plane back to Miami, my life will be over. I can’t handle that kind of pain again. When you moved away I was a fucking mess. Granted, we were kids. Your mom said it was infatuation. My parents said it was first love. Whatever. It still fucked me up. Over the years, I saw how my old man hurt when my mom went into a mental health facility. I saw how Kody brooded and hurt when his girlfriend died in a motorcycle accident. And I witnessed how Kade went through hell in his relationship with Lacey. My brother almost lost her to a crazy murderer.” He sighed heavily, almost grunting.

  My head spun at his speech, at the conviction in his voice. I tried to process his words, but his last statement sent a shiver up my spine. But I filed it away for another day. Right then, I had to get my pulse to slow. His emotional rollercoaster was because of me. I was the cause of his pain. I was the reason Kelton hid behind his bravado. I was the reason he was a fucking mess. In part, I understood his strife. After all, I was terrified the people I loved would die.

  “I refused to let anyone in.” His tone softened. “Then you showed up. Every time I see you, touch you, kiss you, I get dizzy, confused, fearful, crazy, excited. And if I’m being honest, the longer you stay in Boston, the more I won’t want you to leave.”

  The room spun slightly, and I smiled—more out of nerves than anything.

  He narrowed those soul-stealing blue eyes of his. “You love seeing me act like a guy who just downed a bottle of estrogen, don’t you?”

  Since he put it that way, I had to laugh.

  He backed up to lean against the sink.

  Silence grew like a balloon ready to bust. I thought of something to say, but if I said anything I’d start crying. We were on a date. This was supposed to be a good time, not heavy and laden with deep-seated emotions. Conversations like this one were supposed to be for a time after we’d dated for a year. But Kelton and I weren’t strangers. Kelton and I still had feelings for each other. Or I still did. I’d said my piece with his parents. It was time I did with Kelton.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry when I moved away I didn’t respond to your emails or calls. I get why you’re afraid of me. I’m afraid of me. I’m afraid of you. Life. The future. Love.” I shuffled up to him then touched his chest. His heart was beating like he’d just finished a quarter-mile sprint. “But as scared as I am, I want to take a chance with you, with us. Your life isn’t over when I return to Miami. I guess I don’t understand why we couldn’t have a long- distance relationship.” They usually didn’t last, but I would do anything to make us work.

  “That’s the thing. You walked out of my life seven years ago, and I couldn’t let that happen again, even for a long-distance relationship.”

  I wanted to argue that I’d been thirteen and had had no control over where I lived. And while his adult brain would probably understand that, his feelings drove his decisions. Maybe we needed a time-out to think, process, and regroup. Although I wasn’t certain he would want to. I gave a half smile then went in search of my clothes.

  “You never answered. Why are you still wearing my charm?” His voice cracked.

  I slipped on my tank top. “You don’t want to know why. Let’s just end the date now.” I put on my boot.

  “Lizard, please. Tell me.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t want the truth.” I doubted he could handle it.

  “I just poured out the truth to you. So, yes. I do.” He crossed his arms.

  I guessed I owed him that much. Maybe if I eased into why I’d never taken off the half-heart charm he wouldn’t freak or go into cardiac arrest. Now I’m probably being a drama queen. “You’re right. What we had as kids was first love. And first loves stay with a person forever. But time has a way of dimming the past. This charm”—I grabbed it out of my tank top—“never allowed my feelings, what we shared, the good times we had, or even the sadness to dim. Then when I first laid eyes on you in art class, the past lit up brighter than a spotlight. I couldn’t believe it was really you. I tried to stay away from you, to make sure you didn’t notice me. I didn’t trust myself, or my heart. My disguise wasn’t so you wouldn’t notice me, but it helped at first. Then you kissed me at Dillon’s. I knew then that I’d never lost my feelings for you. I’m in love with you, Kel,” I said, as sure as the sun set every day. My insides, on the other hand, threw up.

  His face paled, turning as white as the marble countertop. Not me—my cheeks were on fire, my hands were shaking, and the room seemed to be spinning slightly. In no way did I want him to say it back, especially not out of pity or because he felt he had to. Then I scratched that thought. Kelton wouldn’t say anything unless he meant it.

  Cold air would be good about now.

  Kelton moved toward me. He was about to open his mouth.

  I placed my fingers on his lips. “Don’t say anything. Those are my true feelings. They aren’t going to change when I return to Miami. Nor will they change ever, no matter where I am in this world.”

  “I was going to say stay and we’ll watch a movie and order pizza.”

  A movie sounded great. Anything to stay connected. “As long as we don’t talk about feelings or our past in Texas.” I didn’t want him to feel awkward that I’d told him I loved him. I was also drained from our game.

  “Deal,” he said, color returning to his face.

  19

  Kelton

  I gazed up at the ceiling as the morning light seeped in through a crack in the curtains. I checked my watch. I had a math exam in about two hours. I’d planned to study after my date with Lizzie, but I couldn’t even concentrate. Sleep had been impossible too. I’d replayed the conversation between us at least a hundred times. When she wasn’t in my life, I was a fucking mess. Now that she was back in my life, I was still fucked up. The blood had drained from me when she told me she loved me, and not because she’d said the word love or poured out her heart. No, I was freaking out because if she was expecting me to say it back, no way. Fear gripped me. Fear that when she left for Miami I wouldn’t see her again. Stop being a pussy and commit. Take a chance. You’re not thirteen anymore. People have long-distance relationships all the time. Kade and Lacey were apart while she was in school. They were doing well. So why couldn’t I do it? My old man had always been separated from my mom when he was on deployment for the military, and they were still married. Do something, or you’re going to lose her.

  A knock sounded, and the door opened.

  “Can I come in?” Lizzie asked in a sleepy voice.

  We had fallen asleep watching Transformers. I hadn’t wanted to drive her back at midnight. She’d seemed so peaceful, sleeping on my lap. So, as much as it had pained me not to tuck her into my bed, I’d carried her up to one of the guest bedrooms.

  “Careful you don’t trip over my clothes.” They usually ended up on the floor when I was half-asleep.

  She undressed, taking off her tank top first, revealing that black lace bra I’d wanted to remove with my teeth during our game last night. Then she shimmied out of her jeans. When she bent over, her breasts practically spilled out of the garment.

  Motherfucker. Patriots. Football. Super Bowl.

  She kicked her clothes to the side and scurried to the bed. I thought to move, but I was entranced at her beauty. That didn’t stop her. She wormed her way under the covers, trying to push me. When her body touched min
e, warm and soft as warm butter, tingles raced down my stomach. I slid over not more than an inch. I wanted her plastered to me, fused so tight I wouldn’t be able to let her go.

  “Wow, you’re on fire,” she said, yawning.

  Ha. I was an inferno of massive proportions, and not because I was sweating either. “It’s a guy thing.” I flipped onto my side, shoving my hand under my pillow.

  She adjusted herself so we were face-to-face. “How come you didn’t wake me to take me back to Dillon’s?”

  “It was easy to carry you to bed. I did text Dillon, though.”

  She threaded her leg in between mine. “Are you okay?” Her long lashes fanned out as she dropped her gaze to my lips.

  I repeated my sports mantra in my head, fast and furiously. But it wasn’t helping. My body was in desperate need to ravish her in every way imaginable. On the other hand, my brain roared no. My body had to be in sync with my brain for me to even think about making love to her. Fuck. I’d said make love. Usually I had sex with women. I didn’t make love. But Lizzie wasn’t any woman.

  “I really am a dickwad, aren’t I?” I pulled at her necklace until the half-heart charm was in my hand. The one thing that kept fucking with my head. This charm was the reason I was in a state of craziness. It raised memories, both good and bad, although the bad outweighed the good. I wanted to yank it off her neck and hide it where I wouldn’t be reminded of pain and heartache. But I couldn’t do that. It was special to her.

  “No. You’re scared. It’s okay to be.”

  Terrified was more like it.

  “Kel, why all the questions last night?”

  I dragged my fingers down her cheek. “I was trying to relive the past.” The good times we’d had. Maybe then I could move on.

  “Maybe it’s time to make new memories.”

  Her in my bed was already a new memory. “So, you love me, huh?” I stared at the charm.

  She snuggled closer before kissing my neck. “Yep.” Her lips moved up to my chin. “Flaws and all.” She moved her hips into me, her soft lips touching every part of my face except my mouth.

  My entire body turned to stone, the necklace falling from my hand.

  She snaked her fingers down my chest, dragging her nails until she reached the band of my briefs. I wasn’t sure if I was breathing. Then she nipped at my lips as her hand covered my dick. When she moaned, I growled, rolling her onto her back. I placed my hands on either side of her head, keeping much-needed space between us. I searched her hooded gaze as my own sexual needs warred with the right thing to do. And that was to wait until I was ready to confess my love. But with every thrust of her hips upward, every touch of her small hands on my body, every sensual noise that she spewed, and every breath of her jasmine scent, I was a fucking goner. I lowered my head until a minute space separated us. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, spiking every hormone in me to a new height. The room narrowed until I captured her mouth with mine. Then the world tilted, spun, as I swept my tongue over hers, tasting every sinful pleasure she had to offer.

  She fisted her hands in my hair, wiggling beneath me, trying to get me to press my body to hers. I wanted all of her. No, I needed all of her. The more we kissed, the more I felt her softness against me, the more I felt her desire for me, the more that steel wall around my heart melted. My brain fired at the last thought. But as she slipped her hand into my briefs, my brain shut down. The only way I was not taking all of her was if I ran out of there, ran away from her. The problem was I didn’t want to run. I wanted to feel her physically and emotionally.

  I snapped open the front clasp of her bra just as a door slammed somewhere in the house. Footsteps sounded, growing louder.

  Her soft body went rigid.

  “It’s probably Zach just getting home,” I whispered. “He won’t come in here.” Zach knew better. Then I realized I didn’t have the Do Not Disturb card on the outside of my door and it wasn’t locked. He and I had made one when we lived together in the dorms. When we’d moved to the townhome, we’d continued the habit even with separate bedrooms, just in case.

  Well, fuck. Panic drove intimacy right out the window.

  Knuckles rapped lightly on my door. “Kelton, are you home?” Chloe asked.

  Double fuck.

  Lizzie dug her nails into me. “I thought you broke up with her.”

  “Don’t move.” I scrambled off the bed before Chloe could form any idea of barging in. Which she had one time when I’d had a girl in my bed. How the hell did she get into the condo? I’d never given her a key. Unless I’d left the door unlocked the night before.

  “Kelton?” Chloe said again.

  Stumbling to get in my jeans, I hopped haphazardly to the door. “What are you doing here? And how did you get in?” I asked through the crack.

  “Sorry. I knocked. The door was unlocked. I thought you might be in the shower and didn’t hear me.” Her eyes were red. “I wanted to catch you before class. Can we talk?”

  I wanted to scream at her. She always had a way of showing up at the most inopportune time. Instead I said, in a calm tone, “I can’t right now. I’m going to be late for class.”

  She glanced over my shoulder as though she knew I had a girl in my room. “This won’t take long.”

  “Chloe,” I bit out.

  Lizzie huffed behind me.

  “Oh,” Chloe said. “Got it.” Then she stormed down the hall. Within seconds the front door slammed.

  “What’s going on?” Lizzie dressed quickly.

  I wanted to laugh at how cute she was with her bottom lip sticking out. “No reason to be jealous, baby doll. I seriously don’t know what she wanted.”

  “I should go. You have class.”

  I also had a growing hard-on watching her shimmying her hips into her jeans. But I couldn’t skip my math exam. I’d missed the last one because I’d been sick. I made it up, but not without the professor taking off ten points. I was striving to graduate next year with honors. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault.” She lifted up on her toes and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll see you at Davenport’s at four.” She hurried to the door.

  “Wait a second.” I grabbed her arm. “I want a proper kiss before you leave.” Before she had a chance to protest, I captured her mouth, trying to push my tongue past the lips she was pressing tightly together. “Lizard.”

  She opened, growling.

  Okay, I had to say her growl was the sexiest fucking thing alive. My dick agreed. Regardless, I kissed her slowly and tentatively. Otherwise, as irritated as she was, I might find myself with a knee to the groin. She softened before she whimpered. Then I fisted my hands in her hair, peppered kisses down her delicate jaw and her neck, and then back up to her ear. “Thank you.”

  She pushed away and smiled, but it seemed forced. I knew that jealous look. I hurried into the hall. “Lizzie? Don’t pull an Erika Ames on Chloe, okay?” I didn’t need two strong women fighting at the age of twenty, particularly Chloe. She was the daughter of a mob boss. I was certain she had torture techniques up her sleeve, not that I’d ever seen any. But I couldn’t help but smile at how hilarious it had been when I’d found out that Lizzie had sent Erika hate notes on my behalf in the seventh grade.

  Lizzie flipped me the bird as she barreled down the stairs and out the door.

  I grinned as I trudged back to my room, despite being sexually frustrated. Maybe a cold shower, or better yet, I should relieve the pressure if I didn’t want to walk around with blue balls all day. Then I shook my head. Exam first, then worry about my sexual needs.

  After I’d showered and dressed, I collected my backpack from the library, snatched my keys from the glass table in the foyer, and pulled open the door.

  Chloe was sitting on the top step. She popped up, gathering her hair in her hands and twisting it. Everyone had a tell, and hers was playing with her hair.

  A Mercedes cruised past, the sun gleaming off its shiny black paint job.

 
“So who was the girl?”

  “You came over here to check on who I was sleeping with? Don’t answer that. Look, I’m going to be late for class.”

  “I don’t know how to tell you.” Her voice thickened. Then she wiped her nose.

  Anxiety sank its lion claws into the lining of my stomach.

  “We dated on and off for the last three years. You know how I feel about you.” Her voice was low.

  I lifted her chin. “Chloe, we had a good time together. You’re a wonderful person. Any guy would be lucky to have you. I’m sorry I’m not that guy.”

  Tears rushed down her cheeks, clouding her brown eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

  My vision flickered. My mouth locked open. If I’d paled at the word love, I was a fucking ghost at that. The sounds of the city streets vanished. I sat down and dropped my head in my hands, trying like a motherfucker to breathe. My mind ran back to the last time she and I had had sex, the day after we’d broken up—almost two months before. What was I worried about? I always used a condom. Always. Maybe the one I used had a defect. For fuck’s sake, I prayed the whole box didn’t. If so, then I might have more women showing up to tell me they were pregnant.

  Motherfucker.

  My breathing was all over the place. I had to run, to move, to get out of there. The thought of me being a father pried open my guts. I couldn’t even tell a woman I loved her, let alone have a baby with someone I didn’t love. My future whizzed by with snapshot after snapshot of how I was a fuckup. My father taught me to be responsible. I’d just failed miserably. I pulled on my hair, hungering for pain, for someone to punch my lights out. Maybe when I woke up I’d find I’d been in a bad dream.

  Chloe called my name. As she did, a harrowing thought careened through me. Her father. Jeremy Pitt, Russian mob boss, was going to lock me in his torture chamber and cut off my dick, my fingers, and my legs, then my arms. By the time he was done with me, my family wouldn’t know who I was. I shot straight up, grabbed my backpack, and catapulted off the porch.