23—COMPONENT
I woke up to an empty bed.
My head lifted from the pillow with my hair a wild mess. I peeked over at the empty spot on the bed, where Max should’ve been.
I didn’t know what time it was. My body was still worn out. I sat up. The mattress was crooked and the sheets were wrinkled and close to completely falling off the bed, and all I could think about were four amazing words.
“God, I love you.”
I sat up and rubbed the sleep away from my eyes. Max’s watch was on the nightstand. I picked it up. 2 a.m. Where the hell was he?
When I stood up, my muscles protested. I couldn’t complain or regret a single second.
I walked across the room, grabbed a robe from his closet and walked out of the room. I had no problem sleeping alone, but if I was going to stay here with Max, I wanted to be with him while I had the chance.
The house was quiet. Just a single lamp was on in the hallway. I heard his voice. It was muffled but definitely coming from downstairs, in his office.
I hadn’t known him a long time, but I knew he worked hard at his job. I smiled to myself. But then his voice, that was seconds ago quiet, suddenly became harsh and demanding. I flinched and stopped in my tracks, waiting to see if he would explode again. A sick feeling of dread danced up my spine. The only time I’d ever heard Max lose his temper was because of Lana’s dad.
I walked down the rest of the steps and pressed my ear against the door, straining to hear the conversation.
“You’re threatening me?”
There was a long pause.
“Not a smart move,” Max said darkly. “Just remember that up until now, I haven’t done a damn thing when I could’ve destroyed your f*cking career with one simple action. It’s because of your daughter that I chose not to.”
More silence.
I heard a chair creak. I could picture Max leaning forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “I’m getting off. Don’t ever call me at this hour again. And Michael? Just so you know, I’m a good friend… but I’m an even better enemy.”
Seconds later the phone hit the wall with enough force to make the heavy, oak door shake.
I opened up the door. It creaked loudly. Max was still sitting behind the desk. His head was bowed, fingers laced together, resting against his forehead. He instantly looked up, jumping to his feet.
I opened the door further and walked inside. His phone was in pieces: screen cracked, battery lying on the ground. I looked at Max. His jaw was clenched as he stared back at me.
“You were out of bed.”
Max crossed his arms, staying stubborn and not saying a word.
“I was looking for you,” I said dumbly.
His shoulders sagged as he leaned his palms against his desk. “I couldn’t sleep,” he finally replied.
I waited for him to elaborate. He never did.
“Is everything okay?” I asked carefully and stepped further into the room.
“Absolutely.” He turned away, shuffling papers on the desk. “Just dealing with some work bullshit.”
I nodded and tapped my fingers against his desk. “That makes sense, because everyone knows all work bullshit happens at two in the morning.”
Imperceptibly, his fingers tightened around the papers in his hands.
“Yes,” Max said.
“You want to tell me what’s really going on?”
Max rubbed a hand down his face. “No, Naomi. I don’t.”
“I heard you talking to him.”
“I figured as much.”
I walked to him and leaned against the desk. “Then why lie?”
He sat down in his chair—his hands curling around the armrests—and looked up at me. “Why do you think?”
I stared at him quietly. “Why did he call?”
His eyes shut as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Ah. Shit…” he muttered.
Suddenly he stood up and walked over to the window. He stared outside, his palms braced against the window frame. Those strong shoulders were slumped. His spine slightly bent. His body could do so much damage, could put fear into some of the biggest men out there, but he had to sit back and let Lana’s dad slip through his fingers. I knew it was weighing on him, but I didn’t know it was this bad.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my forehead on his back. We stood there quietly.
“He’s panicking,” Max said. “He knows he’s losing control, so he’s trying to take a swing at anyone to get his way.”
“Tell me the truth.”
He looked up and held my gaze in the window. “I am telling you the truth.”
There were still more truths that needed to be said. He and I both knew that.
“Are you in danger?”
He opened his mouth. I interrupted him. “Don’t try to protect me and hide the truth. Just be honest.”
Max turned. My arms were still around him and his hands moved up to cradle my face. Very slowly he said, “I’m not in danger. And I’m not worried about Michael. People screw up when they’re scared. They become careless. ”
He kissed me. Whether it was to silence me or take away all the tension from the room, I didn’t know. He put everything into that kiss and I took every bit.
We went back to bed and f*cked one more time. We took our time, touching, kissing, licking. But no matter how hard we tried to make our worries disappear, nothing worked.
Our fears loomed over us for the rest of the night.