Everything had fallen back into place. Max had resumed sleeping at Avonlea's apartment. And even though there didn't seem to be much of a point to furnishing his apartment, Avonlea insisted that he go purchase furniture after he had put it off for a few days.
He let her drag him to store after store that she had looked up not, knowing what style he would prefer. He could have saved her the trouble and just told her to pick out the stores she liked best, but an entire day, just the two of them, was something he couldn't resist. Even if it was for shopping.
"You know, we've been to 3 stores already, and you still haven't managed to make any decisions. Heaven forbid the building ever needs renovations," she laughed as he stared at yet another couch.
"I don't have to sit on sconces or light fixtures. Couches have to look nice and feel good. There's a lot to consider. Come sit on this one."
He plopped down and patted the seat next to him. She sank into the plush cushion next to him. He threw an arm around the back of the couch. "See? Now this one is too fluffy." He leaned closer and his voice dropping to low whisper. "We need something firmer that can keep up with everything I want to do to you."
"Everything? Like what?" she asked, enjoying his lips brush against her ear.
"I'll have to show you later." He stood and offered her his hand.
"Tease," she pouted.
Max laughed, pulling her up, and kissed her forehead. "I'll make it up to you."
In the end, Max finally purchased a living room set and a small kitchen table with chairs. He made sure to pick colors and styles that would go with her apartment. When they finally moved in together, it would look as if they had always been together. No his and hers. Just theirs.
He refused to buy any furniture for August's old room, explaining that he hadn't decided what he wanted to do with it yet. But he knew full well they would need the space for a nursery eventually. If he was going to spend money on furniture for that room it would for a crib, changing table, and rocking chair. Maybe he'd paint the walls green. Green could go with pink or blue.
A few days later, Max sat in office, going over paper work and paying bills. He couldn't ignore the small voice in the back of his head. Avonlea's work party was coming up. The thought of having to socialize with all those stranger, making a good impression, and coming off as normal made his heart race. He wanted to be someone she could be proud of.
Most of all, though, was the thought of being formally introduced to Jason, Avonlea's agent. He had to make sure that he wouldn't recognize him. He only used cash while following him weeks ago, He kept his hood up all night to avoid cameras. What if Jason identified his voice? Why had he let himself get carried away? How would he explain to Avonlea that her crazy stalker was the same person she had sought comfort and protection from?
He had started concealing the evidence of his obsession with her at night while she slept peacefully. Replacing moveable outlets with stationary ones. Moving all his stools and lights to his storage room, removing all traces of his voyeurism. He thought about sealing the door to her kitchen, but the best he could do was replace the locks with old rusty ones so it looked as though it hadn't been used in decades. Finally, he covered the mirror with large sheet of ply wood he distressed during the day to give it the appearance of age. He would know soon if covering his tracks had been necessary.
Vibrations in his pocket dragged him from his thoughts. He pulled out his phone to see a text from Avonlea waiting for him.
I bought something special while we were furniture shopping. It arrived today. Thought you might like a preview.
His phone buzzed again as a video popped up in his messages. Eagerly, he pushed play.
He was not prepared to see Avonlea laying on her bed. Her hair spread out on her pillows. Bare shoulders teasing him. She smiled and winked then turned the camera away from her. The view changed to a reflected image of her laying naked on her bed. An image reflected from above her. She'd put a mirror on the ceiling.
His heart raced. He leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs, but it did little to relieve the tightness of his pants. He unbuckled his belt and popped open his fly. He propped his phone against an empty coffee mug at his desk.
Avonlea's hands traveled up her body, her eyes closing as she relaxed into her explorations. She squeezed her breasts, massaging their weight. Nimble fingers pinched and pulled her nipples, the silver of her piercings glinting in the light. Her legs opened as her right hand traced lightly own her abdomen. Her teeth bit her lower lip and her hips flexed as her fingers slipped through her slit, rubbing in slow circles. Her eyes opened, looking up at her reflection as she lifted her fingers to her mouth sucking them clean.
Max groaned and reached into his pants pulling out his hard cock. She knew. She knew he liked to watch. She knew and she didn't care. His hand pumped as he watched her reach onto her nightstand and grab her favorite vibrator.
The pink toy hummed loudly as she played with it, rubbing it through her lips. Her eyes were closed once more. Her breathing became heavy as she focused on her clit. Breathy moans sounded with every exhale, her hips rolled, knees spread further apart. Her free hand caressed her throat, flexing lightly on her pulse.
He watched her body undulating as the pressure built. He could tell she was close. He wanted to bury himself between her thighs. Feel the vibrations pulsating through her pussy as he thrust himself inside her. Watch her, feel her come undone around his cock. His grip tightened and pace quickened.
Her hand rose above her head, gripping her pillow as she cried out, her body stiffening as she came. His eyes squeezed tight. Hot thick jets of cum splattered against his fingers as he stroked himself through his own orgasm.
Panting, he opened his eyes and surveyed the damage. He grabbed some tissue and tried to clean himself up. The video had stopped, but his heart still pounding. Had he finally found someone who would understand him? Really understand him? Someone he didn't have to hide from. He'd always envisioned their future together, but never had he envisioned a life without shame.
The party was going full force, held in swanky art gallery. Everyone was dressed to the nines mingling, enjoying the drinks and hor d'oeuvres being circulated by servers in black and white. Max felt out of place. The lights, the noise, the crowd. He tried to focus solely on Avonlea. It wasn't hard. She was the most beautiful woman in the room in her blue dress and heels. He couldn't believe his luck at being the one she chose to be with.
Avonlea was doing her best to fill him in on the inner workings of her world. Publishers, editors, agents, and authors, mixed and spoke with one another. Some would stop and greet her, introducing themselves to Max. As they walked away, she would inevitably have some juicy tidbit to share about them. Drama and affairs abounded in their circles. She pointed out the women and men to befriend and to avoid.
"Is Jason one of those men?" he asked, taking a sip of his wine.
"Jason? Oh no. He's married. He may flirt and flatter, but he's never taken to the point of making me feel uncomfortable. But there are some people in the industry, let's just say you evade working with at all costs, even if it means holding back your own career."
Fury pounded through his veins. She was so talented and some asshole could keep her from achieving her dreams because she wouldn't stroke his ego or sleep with him?
"If anyone ever make you feel threatened or uncomfortable, you tell me, and I will take care of it," he promised.
She laughed and swatted his arm. "Oh, my own personal hitman. You do know how to woo a lady, don't you? I can take care of my career." She looked at the concerned grimace on his face. Smiling she added, "Don't worry, Max."
"And why are we worried about your career?" a voice asked behind them.
Spinning, Avonlea smiled and opened her arms to embrace Jason. "Jason, you are looking great. I'm so happy you're doing well." She looked back at Max, ushering him forward. "This is my boyfriend, Max. Max this is my agent, Jason."
The two men shook hands. Jason's grip was firm. Max had to fight the urge to squeeze harder in response. Jason was a few inches shorter than himself. His dark hair was slicked back. His suit tailored to fit him perfectly. Max suddenly wished, for the first time in his life, he hadn't bought off the rack.
"We were just talking about lecherous old men and unscrupulous rakes," said Avonlea conspiratorially.
"And I'm not on either of those lists, I hope," said Jason. "I've always seen myself as a charming anti-hero, myself."
Avonlea laugh pushing Jason's shoulder playfully. "Charming, yes. Anti-hero? Maybe we should ask Kristy. Is she here?"
"No, she's 34 weeks along now. The only thing she wants to socialize with is the couch." Jason sighed. "Her back hurts, and she's just not up for these kinds of gatherings right now. I won't be staying too long. I just need to be seen by a few people, then I'll slip away."
"Oooh. I wanna slip away," Avonlea said eagerly.
"No, you stay here. Meet some new people. Get your name out there. Let them all know how smart and amazing you are."
"Being smart and amazing is so hard," she complained.
Jason looked at Max. "It's up to you, I'm afraid, to make sure she behaves."
Max smiled shyly. "I'm not sure anyone could make her behave if she doesn't want to."
Jason's grin faltered and quickly recovered. "Sounds like every woman I know. I'll come say goodbye before I leave." He hesitated and added, "It was nice to meet you, Max."
Max tried to sound as cheerful as he could. "Same, Jason. Good luck with the new baby. Hope everything goes well."
"Thank you."
Max and Avonlea watched Jason walk away. They walked around the gallery perusing works from artists they weren't familiar with. She stopped every now and then to chat.
He left her side once to find them some more drinks. He needed it. His nerves were frazzled from all the introductions and sharing. He hated sharing Avonlea with these people that didn't deserve her. He started making his way back to her when he saw Jason with his coat on pulling her off to the side. The minute he saw Max coming, he straightened up and left. Max's heart stopped.
"What was that all about?" he asked as he handed her another drink.
"Oh, nothing." She looked upset. She took the glass but did not sip.
"It doesn't look like nothing from the frown on your face."
"Oh, I'm just tired. I–I'd like to go home now."
"Sure. I'll go get our coats."
What had Jason said to her? She had been fine. Now her whole demeanor had changed. Did he know? Had he told her?
Silence hung over them during the taxi, ride home. He wondered if he'd be allowed to stay the night. What was going in her mind? This was killing him.
She didn't object when he followed her into her apartment, but complained of tiredness and went straight to sleep. He laid in bed next to her. What was happening? Was he already losing her? He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him, savoring the way she fit perfectly against him until he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, he woke up alone. The light shone under the bathroom door. He waited for 20 minutes, but she didn't come out. He had to get ready for work. He had meetings with prospective tenants lined up all day.
He got out of bed and knocked on the door. "Avonlea, you okay?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine. I think it was too much wine or maybe some bad food last night. You just go to work."
"Are you sure? I can cancel my meetings."
"No. No. That's not necessary. I'll see you later."
"Okay, feel better. I'll call you later."
"Ok."
Max left and went to his own apartment. He showered and dressed. Ominous feelings followed him all day. Her silence last night. Avoiding him this morning. She barely had 3 glasses over the course of as many hours last night. She wasn't hung over. They ate all the same food. He was fine. His fears seemed to be confirmed. Jason must have told her something.
The day was long and torturous. Meeting with so many different people. Answering so many stupid questions. To make matters worse, Avonlea ignored all of his calls and texts.
Finally, he was able to go to her apartment. She couldn't ignore him forever. They had to talk about this. He knocked on her door and waited. No answer. He tried again.
After 10 minutes, he found himself behind the walls. He pried off the ply wood from the mirror. Grabbing his old stool, he sat and waited. Rocking, in his seat, he felt his teeth on his arm. Any pain was better than anxiety and panic racing through his body.
He waited in that dirty hallway another 2 hours. She wasn't home. Why wasn't she home? He slipped into her apartment. He walked around looking for anything that could give him answers. He found nothing in her kitchen, living room, or bedroom. There was nothing. He went into her bathroom. Everything seemed normal, until he opened the cabinet. Her tooth brush and make up bag were gone. He rushed to her closet. Her suitcase that lived on the top shelf was gone.
She left him. This was not part of his plan. She was supposed to be his. Despair grew into rage. If he couldn't have her, no one could.