"I don't know. Everyone in my life? It's the norm. Toni. My brother, who's had more girls than I can count. Flick. Guys like you who treat sex like it's as casual as eating breakfast. Guys who think having a girlfriend is the worst thing in life. Worse than polio!"
"That's what this is about? You're that desperate to get fucked? Fine! Get in my car right now. I'll fuck you." His tone is harsh and authoritarian, making me recoil. Heat prickles the backs of my eyes. He growls when I don’t instantly move. "Okay then!" He unzips his jeans, pins my legs apart, and grasps my upper arms, handling me roughly as he forces me to stare at him. "Want me to fuck you right here on this slide?"
I tug my arm from him and cover my face with it, trying desperately to smother the sobs building in my throat. I've lost my fight against him. Lost my resolve. "Shut up!" In an instant, the tears start to flow, and I hold myself tight.
Through my pooling eyes, I see something like regret flash across his face, but it's gone so quickly I could have imagined it. He fastens his jeans, pulls me up by the elbow and drags me over to his car.
His black four-wheel-drive is parked not far from thegrass hill Luke and I were sitting on less than half an hour ago. He lifts me into the passenger seat and leans across me to buckle my belt, a semblance of urgency to his movements. I'm rendered speechless, wanting to scold him, reason with him, and ask him to forgive me, all at the same time.
What?
Forgive me for what? Kissing a boy? Getting myself into a position in which he felt I needed rescuing? The door slams shut. I stare at my bare feet as he climbs in behind the wheel and sets off down the road at an aggressive pace. A heavy bass vibrates under me.
Frick, my heels.
"My heels," I mutter.
He points to the backseat, and I twist to see my black Steve Madden stilettos lying there. I blink and turn back to watch the dark road as it rushes under us. From the corner of my eye, I can see Max scowling straight ahead. He thinks I'm some kind of naive idiot. It was nice to feel wanted. Sexy. That's all. And this all started because of him, because of my attraction to him. Next time I have a crush on a boy, I should just tape my mouth and vagina shut. Call it a day.
"He's a cop, Max," I say. He doesn't respond, just stares unwaveringly at the road. "He wouldn’t have hurt me." His hands tighten around the steering wheel. "You could get into heaps of trouble for hitting a cop." He presses the volume button and turns the beat up until it drowns out my voice.
Giving up, my eyes move to the little tree hanging in the centre of the windscreen. The plastic packaging hangs half off, preserving the scent inside. His car feels new. Leather seats. Digital display. It smells new.
I'm in Max's car.
Is he taking me to his house? I swallow hard at the thought of him pulling me into his room and teaching me alesson about men. I squeeze my thighs together. As much as I want Max, I don't want him in this headspace. He's... intimidating.
"I don’t want to do anything," I whisper, but he can't hear me over the music. "I don't want to do anything!" I yell. Max's hand is on the volume button in seconds, lowering the beat until I can hear my own breaths of courage.
"Say that again," he says, his voice salacious as if he's trying to get me to understand something.
I swallow past the tone and how it makes me feel. "I don't want to do anything. I didn't want to do anything with Luke either. Things just got out of control."
The tension in his face softens. "We're not going to, Little One. We're just going to sleep."
This time when he says 'Little One', my heart races and an uncomfortable level of arousal spikes inside me.
I move my knee to the side and stare at his profile. His mouth is in a tight line. He grips the wheel firmly and his biceps bulge, stretching the sleeves of his shirt. He's too hot. He should come with a warning label. "Are you taking me home?"
He offers me a quick glance. "I won't be able to sleep tonight unless I know you’re next to me." Every part of my body feels those words, including parts I didn’t know could respond to words alone. My heart is beating so fast it threatens to jump right out of my chest. That’s the single, most intimate thing any guy has ever said to me. And if it wasn't obvious before, it is now. I'm brandishing that goofy grin because Max Butcher cares about me—even if only a little.
I should still be angry with him.
But I'm not.
I'm becoming one of those girls I have always pitied.
When he pulls onto my street and turns down my driveway, I feel disappointment curdle in my belly. Why are we at my house? Does this mean he doesn’t want to sleep next to me tonight? Was that just a fleeting moment of something growing between us? Now over?God, he's giving me whiplash.
Without a word, he switches the headlights off as we approach the front porch, perhaps trying not to wake my family. He drives the car out the back and up onto the grass beside my studio.
My brows pinch tightly together. "I don't understand."
He switches the ignition off and looks at me sternly. "Go upstairs."
"But I thought?—”
"Go upstairs," he orders. "Do you want me to meet you up there?"
