By the time 7AM rolled around, Alec had slept for a cumulative total of zero hours. Whatever this thing was with Max, he couldn't get her out of his mind, particularly, the wild stare which leant itself so effortlessly to her confidence.
Every time he tossed and turned in his insomnia, he was assaulted with her scent, rubbed deep into his one fluffy pillow and one flat one, dusted over his sheets and under his blanket. It was like sleep was on the surface and he was underwater in an ocean of blissful Max.
He rolled out of bed, landing face down in push-up position, and began his morning routine: one hundred push-ups, one hundred sit-ups, one hundred pull-ups on the dilapidated doorframe of his bedroom.
Despite the counting, his thoughts still danced aimlessly over the topic of Max. Everything about her seemed like antithesis: she was so controlled all the time at Jam Pony, at Crash, at Logan's, but the night was so animalistic, so uncontrolled, so… instinctual. Her words were so sharp and edged, but her lips were soft and delicious. Her body was fit, tight, but pouring onto him it also seemed soft and liquid.
As his mind transported him back in time, he could think of no better time than the present for a long, cold shower.
It was a cold shower which turned out to be disappointing. After all, how was he supposed to not fantasize about Max when her stare was the only thing constant in his mind? Imagining the water was her tongue making rivulets down his skin had done nothing to ease his anxiety. It was like now that she was in his system, he couldn't think of anything or anyone else.
On his bike ride to work, the weather was icy and brazen, but his skin felt afire with thoughts of kissing her, of it being in contact with hers.
She was driving him crazy with some unknown and involuntary physical and – dare he think it – emotional response to the instinctual animal that was Max Guevara. And the instinctual, animal part of him wanted to rip into her, gain that closeness.
He hoped she wasn't in the building when he arrived. Sure, he was dying to see her, to talk to her, but he was dying to be alone with her again so they could talk or fight or screw – whatever they could do to figure out what was going on with them. And if she was there, he wasn't sure he could restrain from trying to sort it all out immediately, and potentially, embarrassingly.
"As I live and breathe," Normal greeted him over the bustle of the workplace. "Got some really great addresses for you today. Big tippers. Kind of far out, though."
"Great, it's actually just what I need today," he began. "Load me up."
Without much further ado, and without a Max-interruption, Alec was on his way out to sector twelve.
Usually, being alone and riding gave him time to sort things out and figure out a plan of action, but this time, with this woman, he was truly spun. The more he thought about her, the less he wanted her to be just a notch, and the more he wanted to be more than just a notch to her.
But that's not why she showed up, his mind supplied as he pedaled harder to crest a small hill.
Then why was she there? For sex?
Really great sex.
The corners of his mouth twitched upward as he remember the way her tongue circled his skin and the way her lips, pink with heat, parted as he nibbled roughly at her skin.
Alec heard the rough sound of his bike tire scraping against loose gravel on the wet ground, and found himself on his side on the pavement. He looked up, realizing he'd just wiped out from thinking – fantasizing – about Max.
He laughed out loud and got to his feet. His shoulder hurt a little – he'd hit the curb with it – but other than that, he was okay.
This woman's gonna kill me, aggressively or passively.
He rode on, half of his clothes covered in street grime, but with a huge smile on his face.
Hope it's aggressively.