Quarter Mile Hearts(30)
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The house is quiet and still when I let myself in. Instead of turning on some music, I walk slowly around the living room and pick up pictures of me as a child, ones with Beth and Aaron, me and my dad and cars. There are none of my mom; I have one in my bedroom that I packed away a long time ago, but I think it was too painful for my dad to see them every day. There is one of him and Uncle Donnie standing in front of his Mustang, the one that wrecked when he crashed.
I flop down on the sofa and lie there for a long time, thinking about my dad and what he said. Could I come back and live here? I was so desperate to escape, but I’ve never felt settled like I do now. But would anywhere feel like home without my loved ones?
Darkness falls and I am still lying on the sofa. I doze off but banging on the door jerks me awake. I hear Beth and Aaron’s muffled voices through the closed door as they try to work out whether I’m in or not. Because I’m in a funk, I keep quiet and wait until they leave before I drag myself up to bed and fall asleep fully clothed.
Chapter Ten
The next morning, I am up bright and early, and after a long, relaxing shower, I get dressed. I’ve managed to shake off my funk after a good night’s sleep, and even the brief conversation with my dad has cheered me up. As promised, I give some thought to coming back, but I can’t get my head round it just now.
The doors to the garage are already open and music from the radio blasts out. It can only be Max because it’s too early for Aaron, and I go in search of him. Denim-clad legs and boots stick out from under a truck and I kick them gently. Max slides out and flashes me a winning smile.
“How's your dad?” He throws me off guard with his concern.
“In pain, getting grumpy.” When he reaches up, I take his hand without thinking and help him stand. Max still has a few inches on me, even in these boots, and I tilt my head to look up at him, searching for any antagonism, but there's none. I see nothing but concern.
“Gather there’s no Aaron?” I look around the garage in case I missed him, but I would have heard him before I saw him.
“Still in bed with Beth, I'm guessing.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively. With a laugh, I swat him on the arm. He freezes and looks down to where my hand is still clasped on his taut, bare, seriously hot forearm. Electricity crackles up my arm, but it's like my hand is welded there and my eyes glued to his. I don't understand what it is between Max and me. Even after all this time away, I am still drawn to him and affected by him. I still want him as much as I ever did.
After what feels like an age, I manage to pry my hand away. He reaches for an old rag and wipes the oil off his hands.
“I came around to see if you were okay yesterday.” A flicker of uncertainty passes over him, worry about my reaction, and who can blame him. Every interaction we have is either sexually charged or fueled by anger. I'm always a snarky bitch to him, and he acts like a dick. But after visiting my dad, I just feel drained and not in the mood for a fight.
“I was at the hospital.” I offer up a weak smile, and his concern deepens.
“Is everything okay?” He takes a step closer and bends down to look at me properly. Why is he being so kind to me? I can't handle Max being nice. I don't know how to take him. Cocky, full of himself Max I can deal with but not this. To my horror and despite my earlier good mood, my eyes start to tear up and a rogue tear slips down my cheek.
“Hey, don't cry.” His arms wrap around my shoulder, and he gently gathers me into his embrace. Overwhelmed with everything that's going on, it feels good to be held. I bury my head in his chest and let my emotions run away with me. He dips his head and makes soothing noises in my ear while he strokes down my back. The rhythm calms me and my tears subside. Even after the tears have stopped, he doesn't let go, and I leave my head exactly where it is. I’m wondering if his heart is racing so fast because he's as affected as I am?
Pulling back, he cups my face in his hand, and I look up. “You okay now?”
I nod. “Sorry about that,” I start, but he cuts me off with a shh.
“Don't be.”
“It's just seeing him like that, in so much pain. What in the hell was he thinking?”
“Leigh, he's a grown man.”
“But he could have died and then…” Another sob cuts off my words. Max folds me back into his body, my sobs muffled by his solid chest.
When I'm all cried out, I lift my head to find Max looking down at me. His hands cup either side of my jaw and he slowly lowers his lips to brush them over mine. The tenderness of his touch and the softness of his kiss take me by surprise, and I kiss him right back. Without giving it a second thought, my body sinks into his and my fingers find the waistband of his jeans and curl over the top; my knuckles brush against his warm skin in the process, and his stomach tenses under my touch. A soft moan escapes as my lips part to allow his tongue entry. The first brush of his tongue is tentative, as though he's unsure of himself, but that first brush also unleashes a torrent of desire flooding through my system, and I grip tighter. His hands move down from my face to my shoulders and down my back to grip my ass. The firmness of his hold along with the stroke of his tongue sends sparks through my whole body. Hauling me to him, much like he did in the bar, I collide with a very, very hard dick and if that doesn't just turn me on further.