Ditched (21 page)

I rested my head against the cushions, staring at the ceiling.

Hours passed before they came home. By then I was wrapped up in a spare blanket, flipping through the channels again. It was late and Max leaned his head over the couch to tell me goodnight before he headed off to bed. I tried to read something in his expression but I saw what I always saw. Just Max.

Mike, on the other hand, took the remote from my hand, dropped himself into the chair again, and turned the volume up.

I would’ve glared at him if I thought it would do any good. What I knew was that it would just encourage him. If I’d had any hope that the forced heart to heart with Mike would’ve erased some of his obvious dislike of me, those hopes were quickly doused.

He
was sitting with his feet propped up on the coffee table. The television was blaring. He had some sports recap show on. I had the distinct hunch he was going out of his way to make me miserable.

Two episodes later, without a doubt, h
e was succeeding.

He hadn’t said another word to me so I was giving him the same
courtesy.

I’d let him have the bedroom. The problem was that the only television in the house was in the living room.
That’s where I was supposed to be sleeping. Mike had a habit of staying up half the night but most nights, he’d at least done that elsewhere.

I squirmed deeper under the covers and tried to discreetly tug the pillow over my ears. Apparently I wasn’t discreet enough because he turned the volume up, overriding any relief I may have found.

“Mike! Seriously?!” Max shouted a few seconds later as he came into the room. “You do know I have to
work
tomorrow, right?” His hair was a mess and he was squinting into the light. I was sure he had been sleeping until Mike cranked up the volume. I let out an inaudible sigh because he looked adorable.

Mike mumbled something that was probably supposed to pass as an apology. He clicked the remote until the volume turned down. Max’s eyes crept to me. I was peering out of the blanket I was wrapped up in.

“You gonna stay up all night?” he asked Mike.

Mike shrugged. “Dunno.”

“
Come on,” he mouthed to me. He nodded toward his room. I only hesitated a few seconds. Sleeping in the same bed with Max after what I’d learned was still less stressful than hanging out with Mike. His sole purpose on this visit seemed to be to make me lose my sanity.

I accidentally met Mike’s gaze as I made
my way around him. He was smirking his madding smirk.

“You’re welcome Max
!” Mike bellowed.

“
Shut up for once,” Max grumbled back.

I scampered down the hallway after Max, wondering if this was going to be awkward. We’d shared a bed two nights in a row while we were traveling. But that was different. It was different because I hadn’t felt then the way I did now.

“I’m sorry about him,” Max grumbled as he bounced into bed again. “I think he’s leaving tomorrow. I told Grandma what a pain in the ass he’s been. She was pretty insistent he come stay with them a few days. He hasn’t agreed yet but I’ll talk to him again.”

“It’s okay,” I said as I slipped under the covers.

“It’s not,” Max said, sighing into the darkness. “He’s usually not such an ass. I don’t know what his problem is when he’s around you.”

I wiggled around in the bed, trying to get comfortable and wishing that Mike weren’t just in the other room. I was far too aware of how close Max was. I could still smell, ever so faintly, his cologne.
My heart sputtered erratically. I clenched the sheet in my fists. I needed to get a grip. I was turning into a pathetic mess.

Over Max.

Max, on the other hand, was completely relaxed. So relaxed that by the time I’d finished readjusting myself, his breathing had already evened back out.

I
laid there in the dark, thinking it was just as well he fell asleep. I was probably dangerously close to saying something that I hadn’t thought out well at all. I mean, how would you even begin a conversation like that?

Chapter 16

Max was sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine. It had a wedge of cheese, a bunch of grapes and a loaf of bread on the cover. It looked like a stuffy publication and so out of place in his hands. I was sure he was researching, judging by the serious looking little wrinkle between his brows as he read. I placed my arms around his neck and gave him a sideways squeeze.

His hands were
both wrapped around the magazine so he just leaned into me.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“Just to say thank you.”

He
dropped the publication onto the floor. Then he looped his arm around my waist, dragged me over the arm of the couch and pulled me onto his lap. I fell with a little shriek.

“Now tell me what this is all about,” he said.

I shrugged, taking in his expression. His amazing eyes, the way he tilted his head to the side, just a bit. He always seemed so intent on hearing what I had to say.

It had been raining all afternoon. It had started out soft but had progressed hourly.
I was thankful because Mike had decided to move on. Villette had been insisting he stay with them for a few days. With the rain slamming down, there wasn’t much to do here. So he’d finally packed up his bags and gone.

“I just wanted to say thank you. For everything. You’ve always been way too good to me. If you hadn’t let me come with you…If I’d stayed…I probably still wouldn’t have my head on straight. So, that’s what I wanted to tell you. Thank you for all of that. For being you. For just being a really good friend and a really good person.”

He tensed slightly underneath me and I worried I had said something wrong.

“Are you,” he frowned, “are you trying to say goodbye? Did you decide you’re ready to go home?”

I realized he looked equally parts startled and crushed at this possible revelation. But it could have been just because he’d gotten used to having me around. Used to having a roommate.

I shook my head and raised my eyebrows. “The thought of going home honestly never even crossed my mind.”

I felt his tension flow away even as both arms circled me, pulling me to him. I went willingly, returning the hug for possibly longer than necessary. The warmth of his body made me want to melt right there, in his arms. I buried my face in the space between his shoulder and his neck, wondering what he’d do if I started placing kisses there. I was too much of a coward to find out. I finally released him, just a bit, but I didn’t go far.

“Good,” he said, breathing out a sigh.
“I don’t know what I would’ve done if you said you were ready to go home.”

Thunder rumbled above us,
and then the sound split the air with a crack. I jumped and he laughed. “You seem a little jittery,” he noted.

I shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.”

Max had hugged me more times than I could count over the years. He’d never pulled me onto his lap before. As I sat there now, I realized he’d likely just come to the same conclusion. He shifted uncomfortably but he didn’t move his arms from my waist, where they were loosely resting. So I made no attempt to get up. His face was so close I could feel his breath on my cheek.

“Is something bothering you?” he asked. “You look like you want to say something.”

I nodded. “I do. I want to tell you that you treat me way too good. I want you to know that I know that. And I appreciate it.”

He shook his head. “That’s not true. I just treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

The look on his face told me he meant it. Maybe he was right. Maybe I did deserve to be treated that way. What I did know for sure was that I was going to try my best to make sure it was reciprocated.

I was willing myself to say something right then. If I’d been in the same situation with someone other than Max—wondering how they felt—I might have just asked. But I was afraid to say anything because
I didn’t want to ruin anything.

The fact that this was Max should’ve made it a hundred times easier to talk to him. Instead, the fact that this was Max made it a hundred times harder. I knew I was being a coward and he’d already given me so much. Yet, I wanted him to be the one to bring it up.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. It was obvious that he was concerned. His face was only inches from mine. His arms were still around me and I was still firmly planted in his lap.

I rested my head on his shoulder and said, “I’ve never been better.”

***

Eventually, I’d slid from Max’s lap and we’d put in a movie. There wasn’t a whole lot else to do with the weather behaving the way it was.
The storm fluctuated from a light drizzle to a heavy deluge throughout the evening, never tapering off completely.

I’d been comfortably curled up against Max’s side
. His arm had been firmly around me so I’d barely noticed the storm. I’d pretended it was because of the storm that I felt the urge to sit so close. Whatever my reason, he hadn’t seemed to mind. Every time I thought I’d built up the courage to say something, a wave of doubt hit, tearing it down.

I’d gone to sleep thinking about Max. I’d awakened myself thinking about him, too. In no time, the lovely thoughts of Max were jolted from my head.

When I awoke, it was to absolute darkness. My bedroom seemed eerily unfamiliar. I blinked a few times, trying to gather my wits. I could still hear the rain pelting, the waves crashing and the wind blowing. The only sounds I could make out were the sounds of nature. I realized I didn’t hear the hum of the air conditioner. My room wasn’t lit with the subtle glow from the red numbers of the alarm clock. There was no pale glow of the street light slanting in through my window.

It only took me a few seconds to realize t
he electricity was out.

I tugged the blankets up around my head.
Though I’d been there for a month now, the room still didn’t feel entirely familiar. With the strange atmosphere created by the storm, the room suddenly felt creepy. It was crazy how dark a room could be. I blinked into the blackness and realized I couldn’t make out the outline of a single thing. The waves, which normally sounded so relaxing, didn’t sound peaceful in the storm. They sounded harsh and angry.

I burrowed down deeper.
I wasn’t comforted, not even when the rain finally faded off again. The room was disconcertingly quiet. My breathing sounded far too loud and it seemed as though my eyes were never going to adjust to the blackness.

Before I could
over think what I was doing, I tossed my covers off. I swung my feet over and then carefully felt my way to the bedroom door. I tiptoed across the hall to Max’s room, reaching out to find that he’d left his door open. I took small, shuffling steps through the darkness, finally bumping into the edge of his bed.

“Max?” I whispered. My voice sounded so loud against the silence. He didn’t stir so I tried again. “
Max
?”

I stood there for a moment
, squinting into the gloom. The storm had pulled in cool air with it. My teeth were seconds away from chattering. I hesitated, wondering if I should just go back to my own room, or if I should wake Max. Or…if I could just crawl in beside him. I wondered if he’d care. He hadn’t seemed to care the other times we’d had to share.

I lifted the covers and edged my way in. I’d meant to stay on my side. Truly, I did. But having Max right there brought out everything I’d realized I’d started to feel
about him the last few days. I wiggled across the bed, drawn by his warmth. I couldn’t see him in the darkness but I could feel him. He was lying on his back. I moved until I was pressed up against his arm. I ran a tentative hand across his chest.

Without warning, the rain started in again. It slammed against the roof.

“Max?” I tried again.

“
Hmmm
.”

I wondered what exactly I should say. What was the proper protocol for hopping into someone’s bed during the middle of a thunderstorm?

I moved my hand to his shoulder and ran my fingers down his arm.

“
Mmmm
,” he hummed the sound. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming,” he mumbled. He rolled over on his side as he pulled me closer. His fingers skimmed the hem of my short cotton boxer shorts.

“You’re not,” I told him.