Max’s kiss was reverent. His lips explored mine as he pulled and sucked me into his hot mouth. I pushed forward to get more of him, but since he still had hold of my face, there wasn’t anything I could do but accept it.
“Shh, baby, let me love you,” he said.
I relaxed into his hold and let the world and our fears disappear for a few moments longer.
When he was done, I was drunk with lust, and love, and Max.
“This was never going to happen, was it?” he said almost to himself. “I never stood a chance to succeed at letting you go.”
“I love you so much,” I said.
“I love you, too. Come on, let’s get out there and fight for our girl.”
Max took my hand, so I followed him out of the bathroom.
I bumped into him when he froze.
“Mom, Dad.”
The well-dressed couple in front of us couldn’t have been mistaken for anyone other than Max’s parents. The blond hair and facial features that made Max so beautiful were thanks to his mom, and the piercing dark-brown eyes were his dad’s.
That was where the similarities ended, because unlike Max, there was not an ounce of kindness or goodness in them. I knew it from their actions and could see it in the disgusted manner in which they were looking at us.
I’d only then realized we were holding hands. And they’d seen us come out of the bathroom together.
Fuck.
