“Take care of her,” he says, lifting me from his lap and pushing me over to Max, who puts his arms around me.
“Did I do something wrong?” I whisper, mostly to Max.
“No,” Logan snaps back. “But this isn’t a Holiday Inn, and I don’t want people to start asking questions about our whereabouts.”
The door slams shut, leaving me to wonder if it really wasn’t my fault.
10
MAX
I’m not surprised Logan left. The word aftercare isn’t in his vocabulary unless taking a shower in silence, stitching up wounds, or falling asleep on top of me counts.
It didn’t take me long to get used to it. Sure, sometimes I would appreciate a few nice words or be allowed to snuggle up against him, but he’s just the way he is. I know better than to press things because that never ends well with Logan.
But treating her the way he treats me? No way. I’m going to cuddle my girl until she yells at me to stop, even though I don’t think this is going to happen anytime soon.
Lily burrows her face in the crook of my neck while I carry her over to the bed. She protests when I let go of her to pull off my shirt but visibly relaxes once she’s no longer completely naked. I’m scenting her like I’m a dog, but I can’t help myself.
There’s this need inside of me to make her smell like me, to have her wear my stuff, to get her to a point where I am her whole goddamn world.
“Gimme a second, baby. I need to change my pants,” I say while I remove her blindfold.
She blinks her eyes open as I grab the bag I packed for her,searching for a pair of fresh sweatpants. I don’t want to be the next idiot to leave her, and I really don’t want to run down to my room in sticky jeans. Should have known not to go commando today.
I go to the bathroom to get changed, and when I come back, Lily is sitting cross-legged on the mattress, unfortunately fully clothed. Wanting to make it comfortable for us, I fluff up the pillow and prop it up against the wall before I rummage through our snack stash. After finding what I’ve been looking for, I get on the bed next to Lily and drag her to the back with me.
“Which color is your favorite?” I ask, ripping the bag of sweets open.
“Red. White’s close second,” she says, smiling when I put my arm around her shoulder. Her smile turns into a frown as she sees me picking the red gummy bears out of the bag. “They all taste good. I’m not picky. What’s your favorite flavor? Because if you say raspberry, I refuse to eat all the red ones.”
“My favorite flavor is your pussy,” I reply, throwing two gummy bears in the air to catch them in my mouth.
“Jesus, you don’t have a filter, do you?” Her cheeks are almost as red as the sweets in my hand.
“Nope, sorry. And Max is just fine.” I wink at her, and she slaps my thigh, grinning from ear to ear.
I love to see her like this. If I could, I would make her smile 24/7.
Soon, Lily starts to unwind. She tells me things about her childhood, and I mention my three sisters when she says how she always wanted siblings. While I love my sisters to the moon and back, there have been times when I yearned for a day or two as an only child.
Somehow, the conversation drifts from family to relationships, and I avoid telling Lily I never had one that bypassed thehookup stage by asking her about the traits she likes in a partner.
“That he makes me laugh. Someone who listens because he cares for the things I have to say, who doesn’t count down the seconds until I finally shut up again. Probably too much to ask, but someone I can be completely open with,” she adds, and I take this as a sign to address something.
“Speaking of being open with each other… I know you didn’t come.”
Lily chokes on a gummy bear, coughing so hard her entire body shakes, and I slap her back, making a mental note to keep topics like this for moments she’s not eating.
“No, I did,” she stammers. “Really.”
I scoot away so that she’s no longer snuggled up against me—and able to hide her face.
“I already told you I only have one rule: Don’t lie to me, Lily. I’m sorry if it didn’t feel good for you.”
“It felt good,” she insists, her eyes telling me she’s speaking the truth this time. “I just never— maybe there’s something wrong with me, I don’t know.”
“You’re gonna let go of that thought immediately. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.Nothing. Did I already mention I hate your husband?”
