Quarter Mile Hearts(65)

Cocooned together, a tangle of arms and legs, I manage to slip out from under Max’s limbs and pad through to the bathroom. We dozed off and I have no idea what time it is, but it’s pitch black outside. When I walk back into the room, Max is awake with a small light on, the sheet draped strategically over his dick but still exposing his muscular thighs. I had never considered men’s thighs particularly sexy, but my god, that was before I had gotten an eyeful of Max’s.

The smile that lights up his face as I cross the room and crawl back into his arms does strange things to my heart. It speeds up, like the wings of a hummingbird, and flutters in my chest. As he strokes his hands through my hair, I melt into his arms and rest my head on his chest—where his heart beats faster than normal.

“Has there been anyone else?” he asks, a slight quiver in his voice.

“Only one.”

“One, seriously?” The disbelief is evident in his tone.

“Yeah, why do you sound so surprised?” I twist to look up at him.

“I just thought there would be more.”

“We’re not all like you.”

He frowns. “I didn't mean it like that. Tell me about him.”

I take a deep breath and push it out slowly, resting against his chest again. “It was a year ago. There was this a guy at work, Josh. Anyway, he'd been asking me for ages to go out on a date, so eventually I did. We dated a few times and then...”

“You slept with him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I couldn’t.”

“What happened?”

“After a couple of dates, he changed, became really possessive, always calling and wanting to know where I was. Not that I ever went anywhere. It was never anything serious, and I didn't want it to be.”

“Why?”

Unexpected tears prick my eyes. “He wasn't you,” I whisper. It’s why I’ve never met anyone else or been interested because no one could ever compare. In every sense, he ruined me.

Strong arms tighten around me as he cradles me in his arms, letting me sob, like he did that morning in the garage. Warm breath brushes over the top of my head, and a hand strokes down my back. Max is the only person who has seen me like this, vulnerable and emotional. I was always the strong one growing up, never showing how I was feeling or if anything upset me. The only time I showed it was when I was mad.

“There have been exactly two women since you left,” he says in a quiet voice.

I look up at him, my mouth popping open. “Two?”

Sheepishly, he scrubs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, two.”

“Why only two?” Not that I’m complaining. In fact, inside I’m jumping for joy.

“The first one was just after you left. I thought if I slept with someone else it would get you out of my mind. But it didn’t, it just made me miss you even more.” His lips brush over my temple.

“And the other?”

He inhales shakily. “The other was last year, after your visit.”

“What? Why?” I raise myself up to get a proper look at his face and see a flash of pain cloud his expression.

“Every time you came home, you avoided me. I would hear that you had come back, and I guess part of me hoped that you would come see me. But you never did. It made me wonder if I was just one big stupid mistake to you.”

“Max.” I let out a strangled cry, not realizing for one second that I had hurt him in this way. “You were never a mistake, but I did try to avoid you. After that night, I was more confused about how I felt and my way of dealing with it was to avoid you. You were always with another girl. Why would you want me?”

“Ever since I first saw you at the quarter mile, I have wanted you.”

“You have?” I pull back the sheet to straddle him and reveal a rapidly hardening erection. Leaning over, I pull a condom out the drawer and rip it open. Max watches me with hungry eyes as I roll the condom down his hard dick and rise up on my knees.

“I have…” he trails off as I lower myself onto his dick, and his hands slide up my thighs. Effectively ending our conversation.





Chapter Twenty-Two




The rest of the weekend is spent in bed with Max, catching up on the past four years and reminiscing about before that when we would irritate each other on purpose. Turns out we never got past the childish stage of being horrible to each other when we secretly liked each other. All along we were both hiding how we really felt.

By the time Aaron comes to the garage on Monday morning, we are already there and working on the jobs that were left over from Saturday morning.

“Hey, you guys,” he shouts out as he enters, and I’m betting he’s just watched The Goonies yesterday, it’s his favorite film.