He swims for a few more minutes but keeps looking over at the stairwell.
“Okay, fine. We’ll go down and see him. Come on.”
Moby jumps out of the pond and shakes off some water. Then I pick him up and carry him downstairs.
When we get back to the apartment, Max is freshly showered and smelling all citrusy and edible. I turn on the TV and put Moby in his spot on the couch then watch Max get ready. He’s wearing beat-up black jeans and black boots, and I watch his muscles ripple under his tattoos as he rubs some sort of gel into his hair to make it chaotic and messy.
“Playing Caleb today?” I ask, even though I hate the idea. No one should be allowed to swoon over that sexy musician except for me.
“Uh ... no.” He finishes his hair and pulls a black T-shirt from his bag. “I’m locked in to something a little rougher today.” After he pulls on the shirt, he digs into the bag again and removes a grungy leather jacket that has Sons of Diablo embroidered on the back.
“A biker?”
He nods and says, “Yep,” then shoves his dirty clothes and toiletries back into the duffle.
“So, how does this scenario work?”
He frowns as he zips the bag. “Oh, you know. Rough guy just needs the love of a good woman to tame him.” He sits in Nan’s favorite chair and laces up his boots.
“Has this client done this scenario before?”
“No.”
“Is it an existing client or someone new? Is she playing a role as well?”
He glances up at me then back to his boots. “Eden, I don’t think talking about work stuff is useful. I know you have a hard time with it.”
“Maybe if I know more about what’s going on, it will be easier.”
He stands and looks at me. “And maybe it won’t. If you were playacting with other guys, I know damn well I wouldn’t want to hear about it.” He walks into the kitchen, and returns with a fresh bowl of food for Moby, which he puts next to him. “Don’t eat that all at once, okay? It has to last until Mrs. Schott comes to see you in the morning.”
“Max ...” He turns to me, and I take his hand, trying to hide how my stomach is churning with anxiety. “I can guarantee nothing you tell me will be worse than what I’m imagining. Have you forgotten I’ve been on dates with you? I know how sexy they are.”
He brings my hand up and kisses the back of it. “Well, for a start, my regular dates are nowhere near as sexy as what I experienced with you. Our chemistry was off the charts. Today’s date is no big deal. My client is playing Dyson’s girlfriend. He’s an abusive asshole. Dyson has found out I like her, we fight, and then I romance the client for the rest of the night.”
“Uh huh.” I sidle up to him. “Okay, so ... give me a little taste of this sexy bad boy.” I run my fingers up the strong muscles in his neck.
“Eden ...” He tenses his jaw. “I really don’t think this a good idea.”
“Please? I could help you get into character.” I don’t know what the hell I’m doing right now, but I feel like I’m on the outside looking in, and I hate it.
He searches my face for a few seconds and must read how I’m feeling, because the next thing I know he grabs me roughly by my shoulders and shoves me back into the wall. “Is this what you want? To see me lose it, because I can’t fucking stay away from you? Is this why you came here?”
The personality change is so sudden, he catches me off guard, but when I realize he’s just slipping into character, I try to follow his lead.
“I came here to be with you,” I say, pushing him in the chest. “I don’t have your self-control. I can’t just feel this way and ignore it.”
His expression becomes hard and incredulous. “You think I can ignore how I feel about you? Are you fucking kidding me?” He searches my face, his anger fading the longer he stares at me. “Every day it kills me to not be with you, but what choice do I have? When I look at you, how I feel is written all over my face. This is why you can’t come around. Because every damn person I come across can tell I’m out of my mind in love with you. ”
He cups my face with both hands then kisses me, hard and needy. I kiss him back in the same way. It’s rough and accompanied by desperate noises, because we both know we’re not going to get the satisfaction we crave right now. His date is waiting, and unlike me, she’s paid for the pleasure of his company.
“I have no more time,” he says, as he kisses me once more.
“I know.” He pulls back and leans his forehead against mine, and we’re both panting when we take one last look at each other.
“Just out of interest,” I say, still regaining my breath. “Do you kiss your clients like that?” It’s out of my mouth before I have a chance to stop it.
Dammit, Eden. Stupid.
Predictably, Max tenses, and it feels like a bucket of water has been poured over us.
He steps back and adjusts his erection before putting his hands on his hips and sighing. “Eden ...”
“I’m sorry. Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”
He turns and grabs his bag. “I have to go. I’ll call you later, okay?”
I lean back against the wall, feeling foolish and petty. “Sure. Later.”
“Bye, Moby.” He opens the door and turns to look at me. “For the record, I don’t kiss anyone the same way I kiss you. Never have, never will. And in the future, I think it would be best if we don’t discuss work.”
I nod, and he gently closes the door behind him.
I cover my face with my hands and grunt in frustration. Well, that could have gone better.
I walk over and flop next to Moby on the couch, and notice he’s watching me with narrowed eyes.
“Don’t judge me. I know, okay?” He continues to stare. “Moby, you don’t know what it’s like. This is my first relationship, and I can’t deal with how much I love him most days. But the irony of our situation is that when we’re together, I can’t imagine life without him. And when we’re not, part of me thinks we’re both better off that way. And I don’t know if this is just how relationships work.”
Moby makes a soft noise and comes and sits on my lap. I stroke his feathers and try to let go of my tension.
“He knows how much I hate sharing him, Mobester. That’s why he doesn’t want to talk about it. But is this what our life is going to be like now? Me raging on the inside and him trying to sweep the issue under the rug?” Moby snuggles into my arm, and I can’t believe I’m so disoriented by this situation, I’m asking for advice from a duck.
I almost miss the days when I didn’t give two squats about Max Riley. It was an easier, simpler time.
*