“Ooooh, you’re good. You’re too, too good, Mr. Addison,” I push him playfully away.
“On the contrary, Mrs. Addison. You’re the first wife that I’ve ever had, I only save my cheesy lines for you.” He grins pulling me by the hand back to the elevator.
While it’s fun that he calls me ‘Mrs. Addison’ at any chance that he has, I do wonder how serious he is about that.
“So, you have offhandedly mentioned that you work a lot and you don’t have time to date. But do you date?” I ask.
“I haven’t had anything serious, that I can recall. Aside from you. Does that scare you?”
“Well, I don’t know to be honest. I don’t know what the future holds for us. We live in two different states, we are two vastly different types of people, and we don’t know that if this fun thing we currently have going is anything lasting.” I say with as much confidence that I can manage.
The elevator silently slides down and we’ve made it to the bottom floor in moments.
“This way,” I point as we walk hand in hand in the direction that my plans have sought for us, he doesn’t ask where we’re going, but he does reply to what I said in the elevator.
“Any relationship has its questions and obstacles. It takes two to make it work. One person can’t be doing all the heavy lifting. Sure, you’re a little more easy-going and care-free than I am, but that doesn’t mean that one can’t even the other out. I think of it as a perfect balance, in other words a completion.”
“Don’t go quoting Jerry Maguire on me!” I point my finger at him and warn.
“I like you. I went down to LA, not knowing what I was going to come face to face with when I saw you. But I like you. It could be the fact that we’re opposites, and I am totally okay with that. Yes, we live in different cities, but there are ways to bypass that. The amazing things that are done with technology these days. But for fun, would you ever move away from Los Angeles?” he asks in all seriousness.
“I’ve never thought of it. My job is there, my friends are there, my entire life is there. I don’t know anything different. It’s never been a topic of conversation that I’ve ever had to deal with while in a relationship.”
“And what if it came down to that a year down the road. We’re tired of the back and forth, we wouldn’t be able to have a successful marriage if we’re living in two different places,” he points out.
I nod my head slowly. “I see that as being something that would be a pretty big obstacle. Would you consider moving to Los Angeles, possibly opening up an office there?”
“Like you, this is new territory for me. I’ve never given Los Angeles much thought as a place to live, but I’m not going to say that it would be out of the question. If we completely fell in love, and that’s what you wanted, me to move to LA, then I would.”
He takes my breath away with that, as that’s exactly the thought that’s been in my head too, during this entire conversation.
I stop in the middle of the sidewalk and turn to him. I reach up and pull him down as I meet him on my tippy-toes. His arms wrap around my middle and he bends then lifts me. My feet dangle as he kisses me, leaving me breathless when we pull apart.
“I’m going to assume that I said something right, to warrant that,” he asks.
“It’s like you’re in my head, you basically said out loud some of the rampant thoughts that have been circulating in my head.”
“So, what you’re saying is that we’re a little bit alike, after all?” He grins.
“Maybe just a little.” I say as he sets me down.
He looks around and questions, “where are we going?”
“Are you ready for some history?” I ask.
“It wasn’t my best subject in school, I was more of a math guy.”
“We’re going to learn the history of Pioneer Square, but not from the surface. From below.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“It’s basically underground tunnels that we’re used in the late 1800’s and during the gold rush days. It’s like a whole crap ton of history that we will be given a tour with.”
“And it’s here, in Seattle.” He asks.
“Yup.” I nod excitedly.
“How do you know these things?”
“I’ve done my homework.” I reply.
Once we check in, and join the group for the tour, we’re off underground and then above ground within two hours. We would have been out sooner, but Max had a million questions that kept the very insightful tour guide on his feet.
At a few places while underground, Max would linger back from the group and take a moment to kiss me sweetly, with a quiet note of ‘for remembering’.
Once we emerge on Main Street, the fresh air awakens me as the bright sky blinds me. We thank our tour guide and say our goodbyes and begin on our way.
After an Uber trip, we’re dropped off at the Space Needle. I’ve only seen it on television, it’s bigger than I was expecting, but defiantly not as big as our first stop of the day. I look to a dome-like glass structure and I have a sudden change of plans.
“What do you say about, instead of going to the Space Needle, that we go there instead?” I ask him pointing to the structure.
“I think that’s a garden, I’m up for it.”
We walk in and look up at the creations of color. The explosion of color and beautiful art created throughout the space is breathtaking and something that I’m so happy that we came here for instead of going to the Space Needle. We take our time walking through the small space and looking at all the towering displays of glass.
Over an hour, we’ve spent here, immersing ourselves in the experience that once we leave, we both feel like new people.
I look at him, and he looks just as happy as I do.
MAXWELL
I see a lot of places, a lot of attractions in the city day after day, but nothing quite like the things that Peyton planned for us today.
I’ve lived here in Seattle for my whole life and not once did I ever stop to see some of these places before, outside the car and on my own time. It’s like I’m enjoying the city for the first time, and I can’t believe that I’ve missed seeing my home this way.
With Peyton being here, I’ve been a tourist today in my own city. She’s made it easy and effortless to explore. Despite stepping in dog crap, it’s been an excellent day. Peyton has made it so easy to do everyday normal things and so far, she’s brought out a different side of me. A side that not that many people can bring out.
The human side.
When normally, I would rather get a ride back to my condo, I suggested that we walk back to my place.
Hand in hand, through the streets back to The Emerald. We make small talk, with her talking more than I and I couldn’t be in a better headspace. Until she asks about my past relationships. I know she is concerned about the long-distance thing, and regardless of telling her we can do it, it may take actually doing it day by day, rather than just talking the talk for her to believe it. I also don’t want to tell her about my last relationship since that was, toward the end—a long-distance relationship that ultimately failed because of the distance.
But to be fair, the distance was across the entire country, from Seattle to Miami to be exact. I dated Marisa for three years, and when she got a job in Miami in the third year of our relationship, I swore that it would work, and we did make it work for a few months, until she stopped calling every night. Then every night turned into every few nights, and then once a week. When we dwindled down to every other week, until I went to her and we had a conversation that resulted my meeting her new boyfriend.
I was devastated and haven’t really had a relationship since.
But in the long-run, I believe that she did us a favor. While I thought I loved her, I don’t really think that I did. Sure, I liked her. I loved her in a way, but I didn’t love her completely.
Do I love Peyton? It’s too soon for me to even ask myself that question.
; Can I see myself loving Peyton? I can indeed. And for that reason, I would like to see if we can try.
“I’m going to be honest with you, and that’s because I believe that one of the fundamental parts of any relationship is honesty, my last relationship made me learn a lot.”
Our arms are swinging playfully, and I notice the moment that it slows.
“What does that mean?” She swings her gaze in my direction.
“Well, we were great for the first two and half years, but the last few months were a little more difficult.”
“Continue,” she directs.
I want to put off on telling her all the details and I spot a cafe that is currently empty which would be perfect to divulge my biggest failure in.
I point in the direction, “want to grab a light dinner?” I ask.
“That would be great, less of a mess to clean up at your place,” she nods.
We walk across the street and get a table right away. After we order, I place my arm on the back of her chair and pull her closer to me, so she’s sitting beside me, rather than adjacent to me.
“I’m going to tell you about my last relationship, but I don’t want you to try to search for any parallels to what we have.” I say to her.
“This is kinda not what I was hoping for, should I be scared?” She asks.
“No, not scared, but definitely know that I had nothing to do with how the relationship ended,” I tell her with full confidence.
She places her chin on her hand and leans toward me. “Okay, tell me everything,” she says.
“I was in a relationship with someone for a few years, but then she got a new job. This job was out of state and she moved to Miami. We worked well together for a few months before the communication dwindled. I did what I could to keep the relationship going, but she stopped communicating with me and then I found out that she ultimately was having another relationship with someone else. Someone that she met there not too long after she moved.”
She gasps and covers her mouth. “How long before that happened?”
“I don’t know. I never asked for details. But she started, about a month after she moved to slow down on the communications, despite how much I tried to talk to her.”
“You wanted to make it work.” Peyton says, more as a statement and to herself than a question.
“I did. Or at least I thought I did. I will admit that looking back now, I don’t think I was fully in love with her. Otherwise, I would have offered to move for her when she did.”
“How long ago was this relationship?” she asks.
“It was roughly five years ago.” I reply with a shrug.
“Okay, go on,” she prompts nodding as if taking note in her mind about the conversation.
“Well, I flew to Miami and she confided the reasoning for her lack of communication. She actually didn’t need to tell me anything, as I came face to face with the man she was dating. So, we broke up, tried to keep things calm about it all and I came back here. I loved her, but I don’t think that I was really in love with her.”
“What does that mean?” she questions.
“It means that, yes, I loved her. But I wasn’t in love with her. I wouldn’t have done whatever it took to make sure that the end result of our relationship ended with the both of us together. I know there is nothing that could have been done, since she was romantically involved with someone else and was nothing that I had control over. It wasn’t that I wasn’t attentive, or that I was a bad boyfriend, but I know that if I was head over heels in love with her that I could have figured out a way to be together. I could have moved to Miami, but that was never a thought in my mind, or anything that I would have ever considered.”
“But, you said something along those lines to me, that you would move to LA to be with me?” she questions.
“And I meant it.”
Chapter Thirteen
“This one time in Vegas I almost got whiplash when the Magic Mike dancer whipped my chair around!”
PEYTON
And I meant it.
His words echo in my mind as I slip into bed tonight. I’m still sleeping in the guest room and a part of me feels guilty. Our relationship is progressing, we’ve kissed here and there, but up until this moment, I’ve been okay with taking it slow. However now, I’m anxious, eager, and I want more.
I sit up, remove the comforter from my body and with my hands on my knees, I take a deep breath. I push up to stand and shake out my arms to get rid of the jitters. I walk to the door of the bedroom and turn the knob.
He learned from his mistakes in previous relationship, and while I should be terrified that his long-distance relationship didn’t work out, the way he worded it had proved he did everything in his power to try to make it work.
Even though I’m feeling a little self-conscious wearing only a shirt, I hold my head up and slip through the bedroom door, walking the short distance to his room. The door isn’t closed, but open just a crack. The light illuminates part of the wall and I pause before breaching the space.
I hear the faint sound of the television, and hope that I’m not interrupting anything, like work. I take a deep breath and lightly knock on the open door.
“Max?” I say quietly, in case he doesn’t hear the knock.
A moment later, the light expands into the hallway as he opens the door wider with his body filling the frame.
He’s shirtless.
I fight every nerve of my body to touch his chest upon sight.
“Are you okay?” he asks with worry in his gaze as he looks me up and down to see if I’m injured.
My gaze meets his and I can tell the exact moment when he realizes what I’m standing in front of him for. I tentatively reach out and my fingertips dance across his skin, leaving goosebumps in the wake. Max takes a shaky breath in and releases it raggedly as if he’s controlling himself.
I step into him, place my hands on his shoulders and lean up on my tiptoes. He meets me, and our lips tentatively brush against one another. His hand wraps around my waist and pulls me into him. With our bodies flush against one another, I pull on his bottom lip with my teeth, then sweep my tongue inside. The moment our tongues touch, electricity moves through my body.
Max growls in the back of his throat and deepens the kiss while walking us backward. When his legs hit the bed, I move with him as he sits down, and I straddle him—never breaking the kiss.
His arms hold me close to him then skate across my back when my arms drape around his neck. I can feel his hardness under me and my hips instinctively grind into him.
“I want you,” I say against his lips, arching my neck as his lips move down and splay across my skin.
“I’ve wanted you since day one,” he replies against my skin.
He pulls away from the kiss for only a moment to grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head. His hands form to my breasts with his thumbs rubbing over my nipples, making the throbbing between my legs more prominent, my need heavier and the warmth throughout my body burn.
My body presses against his as we kiss with a heated passion that I’ve never experienced before. He leans back on the bed and I move with him with his hands floating to my hips, digging his fingertips into my flesh.
He flips me onto my back and looks down at me with a grin as he pushes hair behind my ear.
“I’m pretty nervous,” he admits to me.
“We’ve done this before,” I say with a laugh.
He shakes his head, leans down and bushes his lips across mine before leaning back up.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” I confess.
He reaches over me and rummages in a drawer beside his bed, pulling out a condom.
My fingers find the waistband of his sweats and I nudge them down. He leans up on the bed, giving me the perfect view of his body, and every second ticks by slowly as I wait for his sweatpants to come fully down while I pull my panties down and toss them o
n the floor beside the bed.
My mouth waters, my jaw drops, and my pulse begins to rise as his cock bobs out of its confinement. Max takes the condom and rips it open, sheathes himself quickly before leaning down and kissing me again as his hand creeps between us. His fingertips, tracing the softness between my legs, then tentatively plunging in.
I gasp at the feeling and lift my hips begging for more which he gives me right away.
“You feel so perfect, so wet,” he says in a breath as he pulls his hand away, grabs his cock and slowly enters me.
My head pushes back into the pillow in pleasure, my mouth drops open with a silent moan as he thrusts into me, filling me to the hilt and satisfying me with every move.
MAXWELL
I bolt up in bed at the sound of my front door slamming and I hear a male voice echoing through my house that carries all the way to the bedroom. Peyton stirs beside me as I throw the covers off of me and get out of bed.
I put on my boxers and head towards the door cautiously.
There are only a handful of people who have the capability to get up to the Penthouse floor, but usually I have a heads up from either the front desk or the person themselves.
“What the fuck is happening here?” I ask when I see my friend, Jason looking in my fridge.
Jason whips around with a smile and spreads his arms as he teeters to the side.
“Maxi-boy!! How are you, man?” He smiles broadly.
I further walk into the kitchen until my hands rest on the counter and glare at them.
“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” I look to the clock on the microwave, “at eight in the morning?”
“Just flew in and had nowhere else to go. My place isn’t habitable right now,” he says.
“Why not?” I ask.
“I decided to get the whole place renovated,” he says with a nonchalant shrug.
“The whole damn place?” My jaw drops.
“I got bored and decided that I needed a change,” he shrugs.
“Why didn’t you call first, it’s early and what if I wasn’t here?” I ask.
What Happens In Vegas Page 9
