A/N: I can't believe this story is more loved than my other MR fanfic, Once Upon A Glance. Be sure to read it to you people who haven't read it!

Chapter 8

Fang POV

I didn't mean to invade Max's room.

Really, I didn't mean to.

I just wanted to discuss (Yeah, right. Discuss.) the prank she and Angel did to me.

That beard they shaved; I've been wanting to get rid of it days ago but I always didn't have enough time to even put shaving cream on, what with all the maid-slash-nanny job interview.

That beard signified my hardwork in finding Angel a maid-slash-nanny. Men shave their own beards and don't let women shave it for them. It's indescribable. It's a man thing.

What Max and Angel didn't know was that I was actually awake when they shaved my beard. (They = Max) I assumed Max would scratch me while shaving the beard off. She didn't scratch me. It's like she knew how to shave a man's beard. Like a professional. Damn.

When Max and Angel left, I snapped open my eyes. I went straight to my bathroom and checked the carpet if there was any clumps of hair. None. Whoa. I checked my face on the bathroom mirror for any scratches. Just like I said, there weren't any because Max was that good. I smirked because my face was much, MUCH more lighter. I actually hated that beard. I rinsed my face and slapped on aftershave.

It burned. I winced and gritted my teeth. I felt like howling because the aftershave was stinging by newly-shaved face. I managed to get over the pain and left the bathroom. I slightly opened my door and peered outside. The hallway was empty; Angel's door was closed and her light was on because I can see from the bottom of the door.

I opened my door wider and left my room in a quiet manner. Just in case Max will leave Angel's room right away, I glanced on Angel's door. Nothing. I walked to Max's room and flicked the switch of the lights on.

I would have thought Max's room would be full of Justin (I feel like choking) Bieber posters or Taylor Lautner or even Rob (Kill me now) Pattinson. None, though. The walls of the room were bare of any annoying poster or pictures of mythical creatures. Her suitcases were still out though and hanging open, but empty. I wanted to take a peek (Just a peek) at Max's closet and drawers. No time for that though because I heard Max's footsteps from outside.

In two seconds, I flicked the lights off and crashed on a chair that was beside her bed. I went still and waited for Max to come in. The knob twisted and the door opened. Good thing the chair was in the shadows. Max came in, heavy lids and slumped back and all. Obviously she was tired and very sleepy. She didn't even make it to her bed; she was that tired.

It was hard not to stare. Max was wearing black running shorts (Yes, the mid-thigh kind) and a fitted black t-shirt. Max fell to the carpet (Mom was definitely smart not to pick hardwood floors.) and began snoring softly.

I would say my life definitely changed when she came to my life. I mean, I was always stressed everyday because of college and managing the house. But a simple peek at Max's face made the stress go away.

I found myself saying out loud the exact thought I was thinking.

"You amaze me, Max. . . You really do. . . Where have you been all my life?"

It was barely a whisper; like the whisper of all whispers. I shook my head and became concerned at Max. Since she fell on her stomach, I rolled her so she was on her back. I slipped an arm beneath her neck and the other beneath her knees. I picked her up (Jesus, she's so light.) and carried her to her bed. I gently put her down and wrapped the blanket around her. She didn't stir.

Her brown hair was a disaster. It was all around her face. I lifted a hand and brushed it all away. Shit, her skin is so soft! I couldn't help it; I leaned down and kiss her cheek.

It was a simple brush of lips against her cheek. Still, it made me wonder what her mouth would taste like. I pulled away abruptly. Because if I didn't, I could have lost control.

I took a deep breath and another one. I ran my fingers through my hair because my hands were shaking.

No woman ever made me want her so bad. Why Max?

I turned around and left her room. As I went back to my room, I wondered, is she a great kisser?

Fuck, I thought angrily. Here I am, lying on my bed, staring up at the empty ceiling, thinking if Max is a great kisser. She probably is, with her having those kind of lips. Fuck.

"This is ridiculous." I grumbled loudly. I'm wanting Max. I'm wanting my stepsister's maid-slash-nanny. I'm wanting my butler-slash-secretary-slash-assistant's sister. Shit. Shitshitshit.

I can't have Max. I can't. Besides, my parents wouldn't approve of Max. Why? Because she's. . . Low-class. I don't mean to be rude. It's just that I'm rich. And she's in the middle. My parents want me to be with another girl they approve of. Not what I want, it's what they want.

I don't even approve of this. Everything. I hate the college I'm currently attending (Harvard.) I hate these monkey suits. They're hot and itchy and they are too formal. I hate the fact that my parents are controlling my life. Shouldn't I control mine? I'm not a puppet. I'm a real person. I'm capable of making decisions of my own! Why can't they trust me? I don't make bad decisions!

Back to the main topic. Max.

I've seen her naked. Though I'm not too proud of that because I still see her naked body in my dreams. I'm not perverted; it's just that the picture is sealed in my mind forever. Weird, because Max has been in every dream since she came. Really.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my chin. I (unsuccessfully) commanded myself to sleep.

Sleep. Sleep, Fang. Clear your mind of off any distractions. Clear your mind. Sleep. JUST FUCKING SLEEP!

"I can't!" I growled loudly to myself. I massaged my temples because my mind is suddenly filled with MaxMaxMaxMaxMAX.

Why can't she get out of my freaking head?

A/N: I'm going to eat now. This is going to be short. RnR?