"Why not?" Max asked, calmly. There was no anger in his eyes, but you were afraid there would be by the time you got done talking to him.
"I'm so afraid, Max."
"What are you afraid of, baby?"
"I'm afraid of you–of how you make me feel."
"I don't understand," Max said, toying with your hair.
"I love how you make me feel, but…" You swallowed hard at the lump in your throat. Tears burned your eyes. "I'm afraid that it's just temporary. You seem to get tired of women quickly. I-"
"I did tire of women quickly," Max admitted, still playing with a lock of your hair. "But you've changed me, Y/N. I've not had a woman in a while because of you. No one affects me the way you do."
"I'm scared, Max." A tear spilled over your eye and trailed down to your temple. I'm afraid that I'll give in and then you'll hurt me."
"I'll never hurt you, sweetheart. But I understand. And I'll tell you this. I'll wait forever for you. And when you finally are sure of me and my intentions, then…" He smiled softly down at you and swiped away the tear with the pad of his thumb. "Then hopefully, you'll let me make love to you."
You smiled through your tears. "O-okay. Just please be patient with me."
"I will, sweetheart. I will." He whispered, with a soft kiss to your forehead. "Now, let me go to my room and grab my things and a shower, and then we can get some sleep."
About fifteen minutes later, Max was back and climbing into the bed beside you, a pair of sweatpants hanging from his sculpted hips.
He immediately pulled you into his embrace and held you close. "Get some sleep, baby."
And you did just that, feeling the safest you'd ever felt. The last thing you remembered was Max's lips brushing against your temple.
