Coming of Age (5 page)

“That’s not good.” Max looked down at the grill.

“No, biggie,” she replied. “I’ll put the potatoes in the oven. Start the coals again.”

Max worked on the coals while she went inside. She returned with more beer. She draped one arm over his shoulder and leaned against him. “I’m going to regret this in the morning,” she said as she tilted the beer up to her lips.

Max didn’t care how he felt in the morning. Right now, he had Livi all to himself, had a major buzz and all was right with the world.

He turned toward her, and she stumbled. Max caught her, his arms going around her to steady her. She laughed, looked up at him and the smile on her face vanished.

“You’re so dangerous,” she said softly.

“Me? Dangerous?”

“Lethal.”

“How?”

Livi chuckled and pushed away. “Like you don’t know.”

“But I don’t.”

“Okay, if you say so. So, what you want to do while we wait on the coals?”

What he wanted to do was not something he would admit. He wanted to kiss her, to put his hands on her. That’s all he’d wanted for months. But he was too chicken to try since that night at the country club. He wasn’t eighteen yet. If he tried, she’d just stop him again.

Unless, he realized, it was something she couldn’t stop. An idea came to him. “How about a game?”

She gave him a big smile. “I love games. Okay. What game?”

“Truth or dare.”

Her mouth fell open then closed. Her eyes went from one side to the other and then finally back to him. “Okay, but I’m going to need more beer.”

“I’ll get it.”

Max raced to the house. When he returned, she was on the dock, dipping one foot in the water.

“Here,” he handed her a beer and downed half of his to bolster his courage.

“Thanks. Okay, me first,” she said. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Truth. Okay…”She gnawed at her lower lip for a moment. “Okay, truth. Have you ever kissed a boy?”

“What? That’s disgusting. No. Why would you even ask?”

“Huh uh, that’s not part of the game unless it’s truth and that’s your question.”

“Fine. The answer is no.”

“Okay, so your turn.” She downed some of her beer.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” she replied immediately.

“Have you ever kissed a girl?”

“Yep.”

“You have?”

She made a game show buzzer sound. “Not part of the game, Maxwell.”

Max knew she must be toasted to have used his full name. She’d only used it once before and that was a night he’d shown up past ten, with the excuse that he’d forgotten to give he a film canister.

She’d greeted him at the door with a drink in hand and speech that was a bit slurred. And she’d called him Maxwell.

“Okay, you’re turn. I’ll take truth.”

She studied him for a few moments. “Are you a virgin?”

The question stunned him. Why did she ask that? Was it because she was interested and wanted to know if he had experience?

“Earth to Maxwell,” she prompted.

“Oh, sorry. No.”

“Hmmm,” she took a drink from her beer. “So how many—“

It was his turn to sound the fake buzzer. “Not allowed. My turn. Truth or dare?”

“Okay, fine.” She pursed her lips for a moment. “Dare.”

It was the chance he’d been hoping for. “I dare you to kiss me.”

The shock on her face told him quite clearly that she had not expected that. The fear that replaced the shock in her eyes stunned him. Why should that make her afraid?

“Forget it,” he said quickly.

He thought she was going to take him up on the pass, but then she shook her head. “Nope, a dare’s a dare.”

She turned toward him, reached out, put her hand on the back of his neck, and pulled him to her. Just before their lips met, she whispered, “Have you ever been kissed by a woman, Max?”

“I’ve kissed a few,” he replied, not about to tell her that “a few” meant three.

“I don’t mean girls,” she replied, her lips so close that he could feel her breath. “I mean a woman.”

“Uh, no.”

“I’m glad I get to be your first.”

Her lips touched his softly then parted. She nipped at his lower lip gently then kissed again, this time applying more pressure.

His arms went around her of their own accord, one hand moving to the back of her head to tangle in her hair. She pressed against him and the feel of her body against his sent something zinging through him, like electricity.

She angled her head and her lips slanted across his. Her tongue invaded his mouth, caressing. Max’s hand tightened in her hair and pulled her tighter into the kiss.

Time lost all meaning. The taste of her, the feel of her body pressing into his, her hands fisting his hair and the little moan in her throat became his entire reality.

He’d never experience that kind of kiss. It was like being joined with someone, feeling the tension in her body match his own, and the way she strained to press closer. How the kiss became almost desperate, each of them seeking to devour the other, as if they could consume one another and stop being separate entities but merge into something else, something joined.

He never wanted it to end and when it did, when her lips left his, he wanted only to pull her back.

She ran her hand over the side of his face. “I will never forget that. Not as long as I live.”

He was quite sure he would not either.

The Present

“You were my first,” he said. “The first time I’d been kissed by a woman. You remember what you said?”

She looked at him sadly. “I never forgot Max. I won’t ever.”

“Then tell me why, Livi? Why did you leave me?”

She turned away and walked to the door. “I think you should go, Max.”

“Why won’t you answer?”

“Max, it won’t make a difference. It’s done. We can’t undo it or go back. Those times are memories that we won’t forget, but that’s all they are.”

He picked up the box from the bed, walked to the door, and handed it to her. “Maybe you’re right, Livi. Maybe I was wrong. About a lot of things.”

He walked out and didn’t look back until he reached the elevator. Her door was closed.

And apparently, a chapter in his life was closed as well. Just like before, she was lost to him.

Chapter Four

It had been two weeks since Olivia returned to New York. In that time, she’d looked at the box Max had left a dozen times a day and still had not opened it.

She wasn’t sure what she was afraid of. More emotional pain? More regrets?

Unable to stand the solitude and the threat of “the box” she called her best friend, Lydia Ozoro and invited her for drinks at one of their favorite bars.

Olivia decided to forego trying to hail a cab. It was twelve blocks, but the walk would do her good, clear her head.

She made it to the bar ahead of Lydia and ordered a Crown on the rocks. It wasn’t until after she’d ordered that she realized she’d ordered her “despondent” drink. She almost shoved it aside, but figured it was a shame to waste a good drink.

Lydia arrived, took one look at Olivia, and ordered the same. “You look like shit warmed over, girl.”

“Well, gee, thanks Lyd. Nice to see you, too.”

Lydia passed the sarcasm off with a wave of her hand. “You ready to tell me what’s been eating you? You’ve been mean as a snake ever since you got back from Charlotte.”

Olivia took a sip of her drink, gathering her thoughts. No one but Lydia knew about Max. Hell, no one but Lydia knew the whole story of Olivia’s life. Not even the shrink she’d been seeing for the last two years.

“Max.”

Lydia’s eyes widened and she reached across the table for Olivia’s hand. “You having flashbacks to when you were in that bombing? If it’s the PTSD acting up maybe you—“

“That’s who I went to shoot, Lyd. In Charlotte.”

“You have
got
to be kidding?”

“I wish.”

Lydia made a face. “Hold on. I thought you were going to shoot some hot director?”

“Yeah. M.E. Clearman. Maxwell Edward Clearman.”

“Fuck me sideways! Didn’t you know before you left it was him?”

“No. You know me. I don’t follow that stuff. Hell, I don’t even read the magazine and it pays my bills.”

“Word, girlfriend, it might pay to stay up with current events.”

“That’s a little like twenty-twenty hindsight.”

“Yeah. So, how much has he changed?”

“Not much. No, a lot. No, both. He’s older, more handsome. Confident.”

“And rang your bell?”

Olivia propped her elbows on the table, lowered her face into her hands, and stared at the tabletop. “He wanted to know why I left him.”

“Oh oh. Did you tell him?”

Olivia shook her head. “I couldn’t.”

“Well why not? It’s not like you did something horrible or evil, Liv. You did what you thought was the right thing. And it’s not like you had a choice.”

“And look where that landed me,” Olivia replied.

“Okay, we are
not
going there, again. You can’t blame everything that’s happened to you on that.”

“Can’t I?” Olivia looked up at her friend. “What if I hadn’t left? What if I’d followed my heart instead of my head? What if I hadn’t been so fucking scared--?”

“Now hold on,” Lydia’s voice took on a scolding tone. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you beat yourself up again. You thought you were doing the right thing. And yeah, you were scared about what people would say. It’s not like is it now. Cougars are mainstream today. Then, it was a different tale. A woman hooks up with a man a dozen years younger and it was cradle robbing. There were prejudices then that don’t exist now.

“And, “she raised one index finger for emphasis. “ Had you not left, you wouldn’t have become one of the top photojournalists in the world. You wouldn’t have won a Pulitzer for your work during 9/11 and in Iraq and… you wouldn’t have come to New York and found the best friend in the world you could ever wish for.”

Olivia smiled at the tail end of the diatribe. “I know. I do. I know all that, Lyd. And it’s not that I don’t appreciate all the opportunities and success. Not to mention having the best friend in the world. But looking back, I have to ask if it was worth it. I’m forty years old and all I have is a couple of nice awards, a little money, and an empty bed. I’m tired of being alone.”

“That’s your choice, Liv. Now don’t give me that ‘eat-shit-and-die’ look. You know it’s true. You sabotage every relationship you have as soon as the guy starts getting serious. You’re not alone because you can’t find a man. You’re alone because no man you find is him.”

Olivia sat up as if someone had jabbed her in the back with a sharp stick, staring at her friend in shock.

“Gawk, all you want, you know I’m right,” Lydia said. “And now suddenly he shows up and he wants answers. Is that all he wants – just answers? Or is he like you, measuring every woman he meets against a memory, and finding the woman coming up short? Maybe it’s time you finally faced him and yourself about what happened and figure out how to move past it.