Max had agonized over so many ways to talk to Avonlea over the next two days, each one weaker than the next. Hopes that she would seek him out first made avoiding the inevitable confrontation easier. So far, she seemed to be keeping her distance or giving him space. He hoped for the later.

Like so many times in his recent life, he found himself sitting alone in the dark. Watching, waiting. Waiting to see if his next gesture was met with anything other than disgust and loathing.

She had seemed genuinely upset that night. Had cried so many tears. Her eyes had been puffy and red the whole next day. But her silence bred doubt and fear in his mind. Had she decided it was for the best? That he wasn't worth the trouble? How could he blame her as he sat covered in dust and cobwebs?

Swaying on his stool, he listened to her bare feet pad across the floor as she made her way through her apartment, the little cough she used to clear her throat, her slight fingers clicking away at the keyboard, her voice as she talked her way through edits and revisions. All her sounds as endearing as they were arousing.

His forehead met the wood framing of the wall as he leaned gently against it. Breathing as he fought the urges she flamed inside him. His body ached with anticipation and lust. He had managed to keep himself from going to her at night. From seeking pleasures as she slept. Even from relieving his needs alone. It would make their reunion that much more memorable, more pleasurable to wait. And so he waited.

Max suddenly sat up as he heard the buzzing he had been waiting for. Carefully, he pulled open the peephole in the living room and watched her cross to the front door. Even in a large t-shirt and jeans she was beautiful. The sway of her breasts teased the lack of bra under her shirt. His jeans tightened as the thought of her breasts bouncing as she rode him overwhelmed his mind.

Thankful for the distraction, he spied her as she opened the door to receive the large bouquet of lilies he had delivered with a short apology on the card. It was enough to keep him from looking like an idiot, but it would put all the power in her hands. Hopefully, it would be enough to drive her back to his arms.

She smiled as she took the vase from the man and signed for the delivery. Closing the door behind her with her foot, she walked to back to the living room, placing the flowers on her coffee table before sitting and taking her cell phone off the side table. Her thumbs set off typing something at a furious pace. She chewed her finger as her eyes scanned the text. Hesitating for a moment, she tap the screen a final time.

Avonlea's head snapped in Max's direction as his pocket buzzed loudly. Fat fingers fumbled as he tried to close the spy hole, sliding a small board over the moveable plug, holding it firmly in place while trying to silence his phone simultaneously. Sweat beaded on his brow as he heard her move across the living room. The outlet straining against the board as her hand explored the wall.

Max struggled to rise silently. Making his way through the passageway, he checked to make sure all the other peepholes were secured on his way to his apartment. He locked the door in his closet, stripping his dusty clothes and jumping into a cold shower. Cleaning himself in record time, he heard a knock on his door as he wrapped a maroon towel around his waist.

Leaving a trail of puddly footprints in his wake, he walked to the door and peered out the door viewer to see Avonlea waiting in the hall.

He unlocked the door, opened it, and took in the surprise that bled into a blush as she took in his almost naked form, water running down his chest through his curls in rivulets until caught by the cotton of the towel. Her tongue licked her bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth as her teeth began to nibble on it.

"Hey," he said adding lamely, "Sorry, I just got out of the shower. Why don't you come in and give me a sec?"

Avonlea nodded mutely and followed him into his apartment. He left her in his still empty living room and threw on a white t-shirt and some sweatpants not bothering with any boxers. The last time he had worn these pants she had teased his cock through the soft fabric until he had begged her for more. She had knelt before him, sucked and stroked his length until he came down her throat while she practically purred, pleased with herself.

Approaching her as she looked out the window, his eyes sought the floor staring at the grain of the wooden boards beneath his feet. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She spun around to face him. "Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for? I'm the one that should be sorry. And I am. I'm so so sorry. I shouldn't have invaded your privacy. I deserved to be yelled at, at the very least."

"No, you didn't. No one should ever yell at you." He raised his eyes to meet hers. Worry was etched in her face.

"Thank you for the flowers." She smiled shyly at him. "They're beautiful. Lilies are my favorite."

"I know."

They stared quietly at each other. For the first time in their relationship, neither knew what to say. The silence was unbearable.

"Was there something else that you needed?" he asked hesitantly.

"Oh—um—it's nothing. I'm sure it was just my imagination now."

"What is it?"

"I thought I heard a phone in my walls. I mean, now that I say it out loud it sounds nuts. I guess I'm just still paranoid." She shook her head and made her way to the door. "I'm sorry I interrupted your shower. I'll just go."

"Don't go." He reached for her hand, pulling her back. "I want you to come to me if you need anything. Anything at all no matter how crazy it sounds."

She turned to face him, tears shimmered in her eyes. "Can we just go back to the way things were?"

His hands reached for her face, cupping her cheeks. He tilted her face up and pressed a kiss to her lips. Her arms snaked around his waist, hands running up his back as she pressed into him. Taking her in his arms, he carried her to his room.

Sparsely furnished, his mattress rested on a plain metal frame. No headboard. No footboard. A lone night stand held a solitary lamp. The only new piece of furniture he had managed to buy since August's death was a tall grey cabinet opposite the bed with full length mullioned mirrored doors that housed his tv on the shelves and some clothes in a few drawers behind the doors.

He set her down standing in front of him. Hands tugged and pulled at clothing until every article lay on the floor around them. Sinking to his knees, he nuzzled her thighs, pushing her legs apart as she ran her hands through his thick hair. His tongue swept through her folds savoring the taste that had been denied to him for so long. He relished the pain he felt as her nails dug into his scalp when he sucked on her clit. He licked and nibbled her pussy until her legs quivered, and her balance wavered. He rose and tugged her towards the bed. She giggled as she stumbled after him.

He sat on the edge of his bed, positioning himself in front of his mirrored cabinet, and pulled her to him. Avonlea stood between his legs. She leaned over him, running her hands over his scruffy beard, and pressed her lips to his. His hands ran down her body resting lightly on her hips.

Quickly, he spun her away from him. She gasped as their kiss was broken. He pulled her back against him. Gripping her hips, he guided her onto his hard cock. He spread her legs over his until she was fully straddling him. He could see her lips spread and his dick glistening with her slick.

Her hips rocked and his hands roamed. Cupping her breasts, pinching her pierced nipples, and he felt her flutter around him as his hand rested on her throat. His eyes closed briefly as he kissed and bit her shoulders and neck, inhaling her scent deeply, committing it to memory.

Max's fingers found their way to her pussy, spreading her wetness over her swollen clit. He rubbed it in small circles, watching how her body arched and moved. She squeezed her breasts and threw her head back over his shoulder. He increased the speed of his fingers and took control as her pace faltered, pumping in strong hard thrusts until her orgasm washed over her. Watching her in ecstasy, was all he needed to join her.

Breathing heavily, and momentarily lightheaded from his release, he laid down, gently bringing her down on the mattress next to him. She rolled over facing him, wrapping her arms around him.

"I missed you," she whispered as she leaned her head against his chest.

"I missed you too." He kissed her forehead. "You know, I didn't actually get rid of everything."

"Yeah, I see you kept the mattress…smart. Good thinking."

"Well, it did come in handy, but actually, I… um…I saved all of August's old movies for you. I thought you might like them."

"You did? I know how much you didn't want to keep any reminders. Are you sure?" she said, her voice full of worry and uncertainty.

"He has all of Cary Grant's movies."

"All of them?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Sooo….now I have all of Cary Grant's movies?"

"Well, unless you think I should get rid of them?"

"Who am I to stand in the way of you giving me stuff I really want?" She laughed. "God, where am I going to put them all?"

"I can build you some cabinets if you want," Max suggested.

"Maybe you should build yourself some, first. You own a building and yet, you're living like a hobo."

"Why don't you come furniture shopping with me tomorrow? Save me from my minimalist existence."

"Only if you come to my work party next week. It's going to be so boring, but I have to go."

"Deal." He kissed her, sealing their agreement.

Throwing on his sweatpants, he went to the other room and brought in her box of movies, letting her choose one for them. It was the only time he left bed for the rest of the night. In her arms, the soft glow of Golden Era movies dancing across the room, he told her about his childhood, his parents, and August. He was as honest as he could be. Telling her everything she needed to know and sparing her the rest. Tomorrow he would board up the spy mechanisms in the passageway. He wouldn't need them anymore. He would never let her go again.