Part Thirty-Eight
"Mmm," I murmur as I snuggle up against Max's side beneath his bedcovers, my right leg slung over his and my fingers tracing the small sprinkling of hair on his chest. "I could just stay here forever."
His arm tightens around me as he chuckles softly and I feel the vibrations of his response beneath my ear.
"You know, I've wanted to do this with you for a long time," he says softly, his fingers playing with my hair.
"You have?" I lift my head to look up at him and he smiles down at me warmly.
"Yep," he nods. "Ever since you shot me down in that club the first time we met. I might have just been trying to get a reaction out of you that night, but I still wanted you anyway."
"Wow," I murmur with a smile. "Well, if we're being totally honest here, I kind of wanted you too."
"Really?" he raises an eyebrow. "Why didn't you say so?"
"You know why," I shove against his chest playfully.
He chuckles again for a moment, but then a comfortable silence settles between us.
"I was so jealous, you know," he murmurs a few moments later.
"Jealous? When?" I question, as several possible instances run through my mind.
"Of Jake."
"Jake?" I almost squeak in surprise. "Really?"
As if Jake could hold a candle to Max.
"Yeah," he nods. "That morning I saw you together outside your hall, it hit home for me that you really were unavailable… I wanted to march right up to him and tear him limb from limb just for touching you."
"Wow… okay," I blink, taking that in. But then my lips curl up in a teasing smile, "Don't you think that would have been going just a bit far, though… especially since you'd just spent the night with Tess from my hall… you weren't exactly Mr. Celibate yourself, remember?"
He doesn't seem to have heard me, his brow furrowed in recollection, "When I opened the shower door that morning and you were standing there in those barely-there pyjamas… well, it was all I could do not to shove you against the wall and have my way with you right then and there." He pauses to look down at me, his eyes dark, and my heart skips a beat in my chest. "I just about got myself under control then, but when I saw you with him later, I almost lost it again."
"Max…" I murmur, shaking my head with slight amusement. "You had nothing to be jealous of."
"Really?" he raises a disbelieving eyebrow. "You seemed pretty damn happy with your new boyfriend."
I shake my head again, propping myself up on my elbow so I can look down at him, "Do you know why Jake and I broke up?" He nods, opening his mouth to speak, but I continue before he can say anything. "The real reason?"
"No, I guess not," he frowns slightly, shaking his head.
"He saw us together – that day in the union when I was having trouble studying and you… helped me to… relax," I reveal.
He looks at me in alarm, "He thought you were cheating on him… with me?"
"No," I deny. "Well, not exactly; he asked if there was anything going on between us – I told him no, but he had already realised that I wasn't as…" I stop, trying to search for the best word, "… as invested in the relationship as he was and so he decided it would be better if we broke up."
"Oh… I'm sorry," he looks genuinely regretful.
"No," I shake my head, reaching out to run my fingers through his mussed hair as I smile down at him. "He was right. I was still hurting from my break-up with Chris and Jake was the nice, safe rebound guy, you know? He was sweet and funny and someone I knew wouldn't hurt me… but at the same time… there was no passion, no spark, between us either. He made the right decision to end it… I couldn't give him what he needed from me."
"And it sounds like he didn't give you what you needed, either," murmurs Max, as he captures my hand in his and brings it down to gently press a kiss to my fingertips. "It sounds like that passion, that spark, is exactly what you were in need of all along…"
He trails off as a heart-stopping grin spreads across his face and he tugs on my hand, causing my body to fall against his as he captures my lips with his eagerly.
"Oh absolutely," I murmur, when we pull apart briefly, several long seconds later. "And there is definitely passion and spark here right now, Max Evans."
I kiss him again and he grins against my lips as he tugs me on top of him. I straddle his hips, bracing my hands on his shoulders as his fingers creep down my sides and grab onto my waist. But just as things start heating up between us again, an unwelcome interruption comes in the form of a ringing mobile phone. I groan as I recognise the ringtone.
"It's mine," I mutter against his mouth.
"Ignore it," he replies, releasing my lips and nibbling at my ear instead.
I try, I really do, but I'm not someone who can just sit back and ignore a ringing phone. I climb off him and reach down to the floor to reach my purse. I sit up in the bed, the sheet curled around my waist as I pull the phone out and glance at the caller ID.
"Shit, it's my mum," I hiss at him. "I forgot to call her." I slide the phone open, "Hi, Mum."
He rolls his eyes, letting out a sigh and lets his head fall back against the pillows as I talk.
"Sorry, I haven't had a chance to call," I explain. "But I've decided to stay over at my friend's tonight. I'll be back soon… in time for Easter, I promise."
I try to listen to what she is saying on the other end, but I can feel Max's hands on my bare back, his fingers tracing light circles on my skin and all concentration flies out of the window.
"Uh huh," I nod absently, having no idea what she just said because Max is now sitting right behind me, his bare chest pressed against my back as his warm hands cup and squeeze my breasts sensually, sending little curls of heat through my belly and causing my voice to falter, "Y-yes, Ma… uh, Mum."
I hear Max give a little snigger behind me and I glare at him over my shoulder.
"Sure," I nod, in reply to a question from Mum… what question it was, I have no clue, though.
Max's fingers creep lower now, over my stomach and down to bury between my legs. I suck in a breath, my stomach contracting in response to his intimate caresses.
"Mmm," I sigh, forgetting where I am for a moment… "No, no, I'm fine, Mum… just… uh, thinking about what we'll be having for Easter Sunday lunch this year."
Max sniggers again, dropping his head to my shoulder to muffle the noise. I frown, attempting to slap his wandering hand away, but he only increases the movement of his fingers. I feel my breath come faster and realise that if I don't get off the phone right this minute, my mum is going to figure out that something is up.
"Sounds great, Mum," I tell her as she finishes telling me about the weekend plans. "But I have to go now – we're, uh… we're off to watch a movie."
I nod impatiently as she says something in reply and as soon as I can, I end the call with an, "Okay, bye."
With a sigh, I let the phone fall to the floor with a soft thump and I turn to glare at Max, pulling his hand away from my skin. He just looks at me with an impish grin.
"That was not funny," I scold, although his mischievous expression is difficult to be mad at. "That was my Mum!"
He shrugs, smirking unapologetically as he lays back down and stretches out against the pillows, cocking an eyebrow at me in invitation.
"Nuh uh," I shake my head, trying desperately to ignore the tempting expanse of tanned skin exposed to my gaze. Of their own accord, my eyes travel down his stomach to the trail of dark hair that disappears beneath the thin sheet… I shake my head again, clearing my thoughts as I force my gaze back to his face. "No way. I'm mad at you."
"Is that so?" he questions disbelievingly.
"Yep."
"Well, then, if you won't come to me, I'll have to come get you."
Before I have time to react, he's sitting up, his hands gripping my waist tightly as he pulls me down beside him, his hands moving to pin my arms to the bed.
"Max–," I try to protest, but then his mouth covers mine in a fervent kiss.
And I forget everything but the delicious feeling of our bodies moving together as one.
I wake up the next morning feeling very relaxed, very satisfied and, I realise as I stretch my slightly sore muscles, very desperate for the toilet. Very carefully, so as not to disturb Max who is fast asleep behind me with his arm curled around my waist, I slide out from under the covers and sit up on the edge of the bed. I look around for my clothes, but they're all the way on the other side of the room, so instead I reach down for Max's discarded T-shirt and pull it over my head. I stand up and am glad to find that the shirt reaches mid-thigh and covers me sufficiently. Grabbing my socks from the floor at the end of the bed, I pull them on too and tiptoe out of the room.
When I am done in the bathroom, I realise that now I'm awake, there's no way I'll get back to sleep again, so instead of going back into Max's room and risking waking him up, I decide to head downstairs to the kitchen for a cup of tea. When I get there, my eyes widen in surprise to find Sophie sitting at the kitchen table in her dressing gown.
"Morning, Liz," she smiles. "Sleep well?"
Her tone suggests that she knows exactly what Max and I were doing last night and I feel my face flush with embarrassment.
"Uh, hi, Sophie," I mumble, looking anywhere else but at her.
"Cup of tea?" she asks, holding up her mug and nodding towards the steaming kettle on the counter.
"Yeah," I nod. "Thanks."
She gets up to pour me a cup and I slide onto one of the kitchen chairs, tugging at Max's shirt, making sure that I remain decent.
"Here you go," she says, as she places the mug down in front of me and sits back down again.
"Thanks."
"So, good night?" she asks, raising her eyebrows suggestively.
I can't help but grin, suddenly grateful that I have someone I can confide in about what's going on between Max and I… even if she is one of his best friends and former flame.
"The best," I admit, biting my lip to stop myself from squealing out loud with happiness.
"Good for you," she grins. "I'm not surprised though, this is Max we're talking about here."
"It was pretty amazing," I confess.
"Amazing, huh?" comes a new voice from behind me
My eyes widen at Sophie, who sits up straight in her seat, before I turn to find Max standing in the doorway dressed in nothing but grey sweatpants, a grin on his face. He crosses the room and leans down to kiss my lips briefly.
"I think I like the sound of that."
"I uh, I think I'll just leave you two alone now," pipes up Sophie then.
I'm so preoccupied by Max's proximity that I barely hear her leave.
"I woke up and you weren't there," he murmurs, as he slips into Sophie's vacated chair and pulls it up so that he's sitting right beside me.
"Sorry," I murmur, reaching out to tangle my fingers in his messy hair. "Nature called and I then knew I wasn't going back to sleep once I was up, so I came down here and Sophie offered me tea."
He nods, "Sleep well?"
"Better than ever," I grin, raising my eyebrows to illustrate my meaning.
"Good to know," he smirks, before glancing down at my attire. "You know, I think I like you in my clothes."
"Yeah?" I murmur. "I like you in your clothes too."
"Also good to know."
I grin as he pulls me to him, capturing my lips with his own, and I sink into his kiss… only for it to end much too soon when he pulls away.
"Come on, let's go get ready for the day," he suggests, standing up and holding out his hand to me. "We don't have much time before you have to get back home and I want to make the most of it."
With a grin, I take his hand and allow him to lead me out of the kitchen and back upstairs. As I take a shower and then get dressed, I can't stop the bubble of excitement from threatening to burst in my chest… I am so happy right now that I almost can't believe all this is real.
Max and I spend the day together, first heading to Wetherspoon's for lunch and then catching an afternoon film at the cinema, but the day still seems to pass way too quickly and before I know it, he's standing at the station with me as I wait for my train home. Saying goodbye to him is much harder than I thought it would be, even though I know we'll see each other again in just a couple of weeks.
However, I have a feeling those couple of weeks are going to seem like an eternity. He promises that he'll phone whenever he can and even offers to come and stay with me for a few days next week. However, as tempted as I am to take him up on the offer, he's mentioned more than once over the last couple of days how much work he still has to do for his dissertation and upcoming finals and so I refuse to let him sacrifice his valuable study time for me.
So, it is with several long, dizzying kisses that we say our goodbyes and I force myself to step away from him and head for the platform where my train is waiting. Just before I turn the corner, I take one last glance back at him and smile when I see that he's watching me, those gorgeous dark eyes peeking out from beneath the shaggy hair covering his forehead, a warm smirk gracing his lips, his hands once again shoved into his pockets. My heart gives a lurch in my chest as I turn away again and make my way to the train; Max Evans is all mine.
I was right; the next two weeks seem to crawl by at an agonisingly slow pace. Half the time, I seem to just be going through the motions of work and studying, simply to pass the time and the only times that I wish I could slow things down and savour the moment are when I'm talking to Max on the phone. We speak almost every night, unless one or both of us is busy, and we talk about everything from what we watched on TV that day to our opinions on current world affairs… and of course, there's the occasional 'if I were there, this is what I'd be doing to you' conversation in there too.
I end up being so distracted and spending so much time on the phone that in the last week of the holidays, my parents get curious and I have to tell them about my new boyfriend. They seem pretty cool about it – they know how much my relationship with Chris hurt me last year and are understandably a little wary about guys that I meet now – although as I'd predicted, one of the first things out of Mum's mouth is an invitation to have Max over for dinner sometime… something I reluctantly agree to, but secretly plan for it not to happen for a while yet, as I explain to Max when we talk next.
"So, I told my parents about you today," I inform him as I curl up on my bed, phone cradled against my ear, later that evening.
"Yeah?" his tone sounds half-curious and half-apprehensive.
"They were getting suspicious about the amount of time I've been spending on the phone, so I had to come clean."
"And? What did they say?"
"Well, my dad is understandably worried about me after what happened with Chris last year, but Mum has already invited you round for dinner," I admit.
"Really?" his voice takes on a mischievous edge, as if he's plotting something. "So, when's that gonna be?"
"Not anytime soon, if I can help it," I mutter.
"Why not?" he almost sounds offended.
I shake my head, even though I know he can't see it, "Nothing to do with you, I promise. It's just that I'd rather not have to introduce you to the family yet, 'cause Mum kind of has a tendency to want to be immediate friends with anyone I invite round – guys or girls – and I don't want you to have to deal with that just yet. Call me selfish, but I kinda want to keep you to myself for a while."
"Really?" now the word sounds suggestive. "And what exactly are you planning to do with me?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Hmm, does it involve you, me, a bed and total privacy for at least forty-eight hours?"
"Maybe," I murmur, a mental image of that scenario suddenly popping into my head.
"In that case, just tell me when and where and I'll be there."
I chuckle at his eager tone and on the other end, I hear him laugh too. It feels so good to just talk and have fun with him like this, no arguments or angst or confusion over hidden meanings to his words. I fall silent as I contemplate what that means.
"You okay?" he asks a moment later, when he realises I've gone quiet.
"Yeah," I murmur. "I'm fine."
"Okay."
"Max…?"
"Yeah?"
It's on the tip of my tongue to say something, to admit how strong my feelings for him are becoming, but something stops me. I'm not sure whether it's fear of rejection – that maybe he doesn't feel the same way – or fear that if I say something, it will change this wonderful, playful atmosphere between us right now into something more… serious, but I just can't bring myself to do it.
"Oh, um, never mind," I chicken out.
"You sure? What were you gonna say?"
"Oh, it was nothing important," I dismiss.
"Okay," he sounds a little confused, but lets it drop and instead changes the subject. "So, what are your plans for this weekend? When are you moving back into your hall?"
"Well, they won't let us move back in until Sunday, so I probably won't be back until that afternoon," I tell him. "Dad's gonna drive me down, so it really depends what time he wants to leave."
"Sure."
"Yeah, but I should hopefully be back and unpacked by early evening… at least that's my current plan."
"Great," he replies. "You wanna come round to mine Sunday night? I'll cook."
"You'll cook?" I wonder, chuckling as I remember that his idea of cooking the other week involved ready-made pasta and sauce. "Really?"
"Hey, I'll have you know I can cook more than spaghetti bolognese and beans on toast," he retorts. "I have, in fact, been known to make a great stir-fry on occasion."
"Yeah, 'cause stir-fry is so hard to make," I tease.
"Whatever," he dismisses good-naturedly. "So, you comin' round, or what?"
"I'd love to," I start, "but I also don't want it to seem like I'm abandoning my friends. After all, I've seen you a lot more often than I've seen them in the last few weeks."
"Fine, blow me off for your friends then, see if I care," he jokes, although I can detect a hint of annoyance in his tone and I sigh.
"Look, I really would love to and I'll do my best, okay?" I tell him. "But my friends are probably going to want to do something together and if it's going to be too awkward, we might have to postpone it and I'll come round another night, okay?"
"Okay, that's fine," he murmurs, his tone still light, although I can tell that he's still a bit miffed. "Look, I, uh, I have to go now."
"Oh, okay," I frown, wondering if it was something I said.
"Good luck with the move on Sunday and I'll see you soon, okay?"
"Sure," I murmur. "Okay."
"Bye, Liz."
"Bye…" I reply, but he's already gone.
I let the phone drop down onto the bedcovers as I sink down against the pillows with a sigh. Why do I get the feeling that I've just stuck my foot in it? I didn't mean to offend him or anything, it's just that my friends are important to me too and I can't just blow them off to spend time with Max when I haven't even seen them for a month. Surely, he understands that, right?
TBC…