Part Seven
"Wow, Liz. You look great!" Alex's voice snaps me out of my staring trance with Max and I tear my eyes away to look at him.
"Well, you don't look so bad yourself, Alex," I say.
"Okay, everyone. We're all ready now, so let's get going," exclaims Isabel suddenly. "Alex, walk me out?" she asks, extending an arm to him.
"Sure," he smiles and slides his arm under hers.
I turn to look at Max again, and almost jump when I realise that he's moved a lot closer to me. "You ready?" he asks, holding his arm out as well.
"Sure," I say, my voice unintentionally coming out soft and breathy. Our arms link together and he leads me out of the room behind Alex and Isabel.
Once downstairs, we pile into the jeep, Isabel and Alex in the back, Max and I in the front, and head to the restaurant. We pull into the parking lot and Isabel, with Alex on her arm, goes on ahead to check on the reservations, leaving Max and I to follow. As I adjust my handbag on my shoulder and start walking towards the restaurant entrance, I'm surprised when a warm hand comes to rest on the bare skin of my back. I shiver at the contact and turn my head slightly to find Max standing close to me, guiding me towards the door. Trying to ignore the tingles that the movement of his thumb against my back is sending up my spine, I turn my face forward again and concentrate on the building in front of me.
My efforts are dismissed, however, when Max leans down to me, his hot breath tickling my cheek, "Liz, you look…" he pauses briefly. "It's like Alex said: Wow," he breathes.
An embarrassed smile plays on my lips and I feel a blush rising up to my cheeks. I glance up at him out of the corner of my eye, but he has straightened up and is now staring directly ahead. I take a breath to say something, anything in reply, but the waiter at the door interrupts us and the moment passes.
Dinner is a pleasant affair; just as Isabel said, the food is delicious and conversation flows easily. Isabel and Alex quiz us on the places we've been to over the last few weeks and I pass around the photos that I had developed when we were in LA. They ooh and ahh over the pictures and tell us how jealous they are. I ask Isabel about college life and she gives me some tips for when I start at Harvard. The gorgeous dessert is almost ruined by the fact that Max and Alex decide to crack dirty jokes and introduce innuendo to every item on the menu, especially the colourfully named cocktails on the wine list.
All through the evening, I have this almost overwhelming feeling of warmth and happiness, like there's nowhere else I'd rather be than right here, right now, laughing and having fun with three of my closest friends. The feeling is strengthened by the frequent glances and smiles that Max keeps sending in my direction. I look down at my mouth-watering slice of double chocolate gateau and feeling the warmth of Max's latest look, I realise that I don't want this night to end.
After dinner, we drop Isabel and Alex back at her dorm room. Max tries to persuade Alex to let him take him back to his own hotel, but Alex insists that it's only a couple of blocks from Isabel's place and he will be fine to walk it. Luckily, Max accepts his explanation and drives them both to the residence hall. I have to bite the inside of my mouth to keep from smiling at Alex's story, knowing full well that there is no hotel round the corner and that the only bed Alex will be sleeping in tonight is Isabel's.
Max and I drive the rest of the way back to our motel in silence. I'm too caught up in the feelings that Max seems to be inducing in me tonight, to even consider making small talk with him, while he looks deep in thought. I decide that he probably wouldn't hear me even if I did try to start a conversation with him.
When we pull up outside our motel, Max turns off the engine and glances in my direction, giving me a small smile. He reaches out to open his door and then climbs out. I prepare to do the same, but his voice stops me.
"Wait, don't," he says.
"What?" I reply.
"Don't open the door. Just…wait," he tells me. I look at him in confusion, my hand still on the door handle, ready to open it, but the look in his eyes stops me from going any further.
"Okay…what's going on, Max?"
"Shh," he holds a finger to his lips, a grin spreading over his face. I roll my eyes at his silliness and sit back in my seat, my eyes travelling over the parking lot. I turn back to face him a second later, but he's gone.
"Max?"
The sound of my door opening startles me and my head whips round at the noise. "Max! What are you – "
"Milady?" he's standing beside my door, his hand outstretched and his head bowed slightly.
A giggle escapes my lips as I take in the scene in front of me. I reach out my hand and place it in his, allowing him to help me out of the jeep.
"You're so silly!" I exclaim, as he closes the door behind me and leads me towards the room.
He unlocks the door and we walk inside. He lets go of my hand and shrugs out of his jacket; turning to face me as he loosens his tie, rolls up the sleeves of his shirt and shoves his hands in his pockets. I can't help letting my gaze run over his body, taking him in: the wonky tie, the top two unfastened buttons of his shirt and the tanned skin of his chest peeping through, the exposed muscles of his lower arms and the adorable expression on his face. He approaches me and my breath catches in my throat.
"Max?" I question in a half whisper, but his expression doesn't change. He comes to a stop in front of me and reaches up to stroke my bare arm with his fingers. I tremble under his touch and I feel goose bumps rising on my skin.
"Lizzie," he whispers, almost breathlessly. What is going on here?
"Max? What – " He shakes his head slightly and his other hand drifts up to touch my hair.
"Your hair is so soft," he murmurs. His fingers linger in my hair for a few moments before his hand slides down to cup my cheek. "And your skin is so smooth," he continues, his thumb moving gently across my skin.
The fingers of his other hand are still making small movements on my arm and that, combined with the feel of his touch on my face, makes me sigh with pleasure. I don't know what's got into him; or why he's doing what he's doing, but I couldn't care less. I just want him to continue to make me feel this way.
"You look gorgeous tonight, Lizzie. I don't think I said that earlier," he tells me, softly. "Not that you don't look gorgeous all the time," he corrects. "But tonight…" he trails off, letting out a breath.
I'm stunned. "Y – you think I look gorgeous?"
He nods, smiling at me tenderly, "Of course I do, Lizzie. I'd have to be blind not to see it. You're stunning…dazzling…beautiful…"
"But…I…" I don't know what to say. What can you say to something like that?
Our eyes lock and I can hear my heart thumping in my chest. I can't think straight; my mind is filled with only him.
I raise my hands from their position at my sides, until they come into contact with his muscular arms. My fingers mimic the movements of his digits on my arm and I draw in a sharp breath as the heat from his skin seeps through the material, warming my hands.
"Max," I whisper, not really sure what I mean to say.
A faint smile crosses his lips as he whispers back, "Liz."
And then it happens.
His warm lips are on mine, caressing them, loving them, and the contact sends a fresh wave of tingles through my body.
One of his hands is buried in my hair, cupping my neck from underneath and the other has left my arm, snaking round to my waist, pulling my body closer to him. I let out another gasp, this one muffled by his mouth.
My hands slide up over his arms, feeling the rippling muscles beneath his shirt as they go and then come to rest on his shoulders. Using my arms as leverage, I kiss him back with everything I have and his grip tightens around my waist.
"Oh, God," I whimper as he slides his hot tongue into my mouth. It tangles with mine and I feel a new warmth flood my belly.
My arms wind around his neck and my fingers become entwined in his hair. My knees go weak and I stumble slightly, which causes Max to walk me backwards so that I come into contact with the door.
I don't know how long we remain like that, his body pressing mine against the door, his lips and tongue and hands working me up into a frenzy, but I don't ever want it to stop.
Unfortunately, though, oxygen eventually becomes an issue and we are forced to break apart, my arms sliding back down his again.
I rest my head back against the door and stare at him in amazement. "Well, that was…" I can't even put it into words.
"Yeah," he agrees, breathlessly.
"Max, I – "
"Don't," he places a finger on my swollen, ravaged lips, effectively silencing me. "Don't say anything. Not tonight," he tells me and I can do nothing but nod. "Let's just go to bed and we can figure all this out in the morning."
"Okay," I breathe. I know I should be confused and full of questions, but my brain is still too fuzzy to think clearly.
Max leans forward one more and places a final soft, sweet kiss on my sensitive lips. My breath hitches as he pulls away and releases me from the confines of his arms. Not taking his eyes off me, he walks backwards towards his bed and fumbles for his night clothes. Finally finding them with his hand, he picks up his T-shirt and boxer shorts and slowly heads for the bathroom. His gaze doesn't leave me until the door closes and he leaves me alone in the room.
I let out a deep breath and slump back against the door.
"Wow," I breathe.
My hand comes up to graze my lips. I can still feel him there; I can still feel his warmth embracing me, the intoxicating scent of his aftershave mixed with something else, something purely masculine and well, Max, lingering on my body.
Somehow gaining enough strength to support myself on my weak, jelly-like legs, I stumble across the room and sink down onto my bed, my hands lazily grasping for the tank top and shorts that make up my night time attire.
When I find them, I stand up and peel off my dress, stepping out of it carefully and laying gently it on the chair by the bed. I pull the tank top over my head and don the shorts quickly. Max emerges from the bathroom as I am brushing my hair and I send him a small, slightly embarrassed smile as I slip past him and into the bathroom to wash up.
When I return to the room, Max is sitting on the edge of his bed, his foot tapping almost nervously on the carpeted floor. He looks up as I close the door behind me and we both smile tentatively at each other. I make my way over to my bed and get under the covers as Max does the same on his side of the room. Lying on my side, I watch as he reaches over to switch off the lamp on the bedside table.
"Night, Liz," he says.
"Night, Max," I whisper.
I lie awake for a while, confused as hell. I'm not exactly clear on what just happened between us, but I'm desperately hoping that it will happen again.
I wake up the next morning with the strangest sensation of being watched. I snuggle further under the covers, too sleepy and comfortable to get up, but when the sensation doesn't disappear, I slowly open my eyes, blinking at the sliver of sunlight peeking through the curtains and my gaze falls on Max. He's leaning against the frame of the bathroom door, still dressed in his T-shirt and boxer shorts and his arms are crossed over his chest. A toothbrush is held loosely in his left hand and he's watching me. Well actually, judging by the intensity of his gaze, it's more like staring. For a moment, I can't think why he would be staring at me and I feel uncomfortable and wonder if I have something on my face.
But then it all comes flooding back. Dinner last night; dropping Isabel and Alex back home; driving back here and then…
A huge smile breaks out over my face as the memory of our breathtaking kiss comes back to me. I stretch under the covers and then pull myself up into a sitting position. I glance over at Max again. He hasn't moved.
"Hi," I murmur shyly, a little self-conscious in front of him this morning.
"Hi," he flashes me a grin, but it disappears when he realises that I've caught him staring. "I'm…uh…just gonna go…" he raises the toothbrush in his hand and nods towards the bathroom.
It looks like I'm not the only self-conscious one here today. "Sure," I nod, and he turns to leave the room, sending me another small smile as he does.
As the door closes behind him, I relax and let out a huge, contented sigh as I sink back down to the bed. I stare up at the ceiling in wonder, unable to prevent the soft, girlish giggle that bubbles up in my throat and then unintentionally escapes my lips.
I kissed Max!
And it wasn't some drunken encounter like we shared the other week; this was real and he initiated it. I close my eyes and savour the light, happy feeling in my chest.
Realising that I can't lie here like this all day and that Max will be out of the bathroom in a minute or two, I pull myself up again and run my hands over my face, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. One touch of my hair tells me that it looks a state this morning and I frantically tug my fingers through it in an attempt to smooth it down and make it presentable. I've just managed to salvage one side, when the door opens again and Max comes out, his hair slightly damp at the edge from where he has apparently splashed water on his face.
He looks up and our eyes lock. My heart begins a rapid thumping in my chest as I watch him move round the end of his bed and towards mine. He walks over to me and takes a seat on my bed beside my legs, which are still under the covers.
"Max?" I ask, half in curiosity, half in anticipation of what he might do, now that he's sitting right in front of me.
"Liz…Lizzie," he says softly. "I…I know I said we'd talk this morning, but I just have to do one thing first…" he trails off and I watch him in puzzlement. What is he talking about? But as soon as the question pops into my head, the answer becomes clear. He cups my cheek with his hand and lowers his lips to mine. His kiss is tentative at first, but the second I realise what his intention is, I sink my fingers into his hair, bringing him closer to me as I respond eagerly.
God, his lips are like heaven! Why have I spent so long settling for other guys, when just one of Max Evans' kisses can make me feel like this? We break apart several moments later, both breathing heavily. I try to catch my breath to say something, but he beats me to it.
"Well, I guess that answers my question about whether or not you regret what happened last night," he says and his tone is so relieved that it makes me giggle. Man, what has gotten into me lately? I'm not usually the giggling type!
"Nope," I shake my head, grinning at him.
He reaches for my hand, "So, I guess we have to talk…"
"Yeah," I agree. What is it with me and one-word sentences today?
"So…" he starts, but for some reason doesn't continue.
"So..." I repeat curiously.
"Wow, this is tough," he says. "When did you get so hard to talk to, Parker?" he wonders, his thumb absentmindedly caressing my knuckles. He takes a deep breath, "Okay, so I guess I should start by saying that I didn't tell you the whole truth the other day," he begins, and I wonder what he's talking about. "When I told you my reasons for deciding not to um, sleep, with anybody, I left something out. The real reason is that, really, I was saving myself," he pauses for a second and stares into my eyes. "For you."
My reaction is a sharp intake of breath. "What?" I squeak. "F…for me? Max, what are you saying?"
"I'm saying, Lizzie, that I think I've fallen in love with you," he admits, and my eyes well up at his words. He looks down at our entwined hands and murmurs, "I think I always have been, but I guess I just wasn't aware of what I was feeling for you or what those feelings meant," he says. "I've never been able to imagine my life without you in it in some form or another and I guess I just assumed that, eventually, somehow, we'd end up together. That you would be my first and…."
"And you would be mine," I finish for him, realisation flooding over me. "Oh, Max, I'm so sorry. I didn't…but there was Robert…and then Kyle…and…oh God, I'm sorry."
"What? No, Liz," he says quickly. "Don't be sorry, okay? You didn't know and I was too chicken to say anything before now. It was a stupid thing to assume," he tells me, but I have to say more, I have to tell him how I really feel.
I reach out my free hand to caress his rough, unshaven cheek, "Max," I murmur. "Lately, I've been having all these feelings for you too; but I just didn't know how to tell you. And I am sorry; sorry that I didn't wait, sorry that I must have hurt you the other night when I told you about Kyle, sorry that I didn't tell you how I felt sooner…" I trail off uncertainly, before gathering my courage again. I look him straight in the eye and confess, "Max, I think I might just be in love with you too."
Without giving him the chance to say anything, I lean forward and kiss him softly. He tightens his grip on my hand whilst hisother hand creeps around my waist. A few seconds into our embrace I realise something and pull back abruptly. He's already brushed his teeth this morning, but I haven't.
"Hey," he mumbles in protest and tries to pull me closer, his eyes still closed.
"Sorry," I whisper. "Morning breath."
His eyes open slightly. "I don't care," he murmurs.
"I do," I tell him. "You're all fresh and minty already, and I'm…not."
His eyes open fully now and he pouts at me. I roll my eyes, playfully, "Sorry, but I hate not brushing my teeth first thing in the morning." I give him a pleading look.
"Fine," he relents. "Okay, you stay here and 'brush your teeth' and I'll go get us some breakfast." I smile gratefully as he gets up, planting a tiny kiss on my nose, before untangling our fingers and grabbing his wallet. "I'll see you in a few," he says and with a wink, he disappears outside.
I can't help grinning to myself as I gather my wash bag and towel and head for the bathroom. One glance into the mirror above the sink tell me that my hair really is as bad as I thought and that I could definitely do with a shower.
I hop in and wash my hair and body quickly, my skin still tingling from where Max's hands caressed me earlier and last night.
I step out of the shower, wrapping my towel around me as I study my reflection in the mirror. I press my fingers to my lips in wonder.
Max Evans is in love with me.
He loves me!
My life is perfect.
Max returns to the room with two orange juices and a bag of doughnuts. It's not exactly my idea of a nutritional breakfast, but today I just don't care. We eat in comfortable silence, occasionally sneaking shy glances at each other and then grinning when we realise we're both doing the same thing.
I realise, as we're getting ready to meet Alex and Isabel again, that there is so much that still needs to be said, so many question that I want to ask him. But, it can wait for now; we have to leave in a few minutes and we'll have plenty of time to talk later.
"Hey, you ready?" Max's voice sounds from behind me as I'm searching for my camera. We're going to visit Alcatraz and the seals at Pier 39 (I've had to assure Max that these are seals, not sea-lions) today, and I want to be able to take pictures.
"Yeah, almost," I reply distractedly, digging through my bag in hopes of finding it. "You seen my camera?" I ask him, without turning round. When there's no reply, I turn to face him, annoyed that he seems to be ignoring me all of a sudden.
"What? Oh you mean this camera?" he questions teasingly, the camera hanging from his fingers. I roll my eyes.
"Max!" I whine. "Why didn't you tell me you had it? I've been looking for it for the last ten minutes!"
I go to grab it from him, but he's too quick and it swings out of my grasp. He holds it high above his head, so I can't reach it and says, "What, and miss the fun of watching you try to get it back?"
"Oh, come on! We're going to be late for Isabel, and you know how she is about punctuality," I taunt, hoping that he'll relent and give it back so we can leave.
He looks like he's about to give in, but then a mischievous spark appears in his eyes and I wonder suspiciously what he's up to.
"Fine, I'll give it back, but on one condition," he tells me, a smug smirk gracing his lips.
"What?" I ask impatiently, my hands on my hips.
"Kiss me," he states and I already can see the eager anticipation in his eyes.
Okay, fine. Two can play at this game.
I lean up and graze my lips against his briefly before pulling away quickly, only to be grabbed round the waist and pulled back to him.
"Hey, no fair," he mumbles against my lips. He's still holding the camera high in the air and there is no indication that he's going to lower his arm anytime soon, so I go for broke.
I run my hands up over his back, caressing his muscles with my fingers. I inch them higher and higher until I'm almost at his shoulder. Then with one fell swoop, I go in for the kill and tickle his armpit; a place I know is ticklish. His reaction is immediate. He emits a snort of laughter, breaking our kiss and his arm comes down. Quickly, I reach round, grab the camera from his grasp and take several steps away from him.
"Ha. Not so clever now, are we, Evans?" I laugh. He's standing there, holding his arm to his side as his other hand rubs his armpit. He has this fake-vulnerable expression on his face and it almost makes me melt. Almost.
"That was mean, Parker," he grumbles.
I'm not falling for it. "Hey, if you had just given it back when I asked, I wouldn't have had to do that," I reason, sticking my tongue out at him.
"Ugh, I'm not even going to bother!" he says in mock annoyance. He takes a quick glance at his watch and realises the time. "Come on, we gotta go. You got everything?" he asks.
I roll my eyes, "Yeah, now!"
He walks over to me. "I'm sorry, okay," he says, grudgingly. "But you have to admit, it was kind of funny."
I smack his arm lightly. "Yeah, to you, maybe," I say, but I'm smiling. I look at him standing in front of me, with the puppy-dog expression on his face, and I give in. "Fine, you're forgiven."
He smiles and takes my hand. "Thanks," he grins and leans down to plant a quick kiss on my lips. "Okay, we have to go," he tells me and then leads me out of the motel room.
I'm grinning all the way out to the car.
Sure, Max might be an immature jerk sometimes, but right now, he's my immature jerk.
TBC…