Page 3 of Embracing Us

Chapter two

Marina

“Tonight just got interesting,” Marcy says, flashing me an excited smile.

“Why?” I ask, confused.

“Over there.” She points towards a booth on the other side of the bar. “That’s him. I’ve not seen him in months. That’s Max.” She pauses, then says, “The Max,” whilst nodding her head exaggeratedly.

“The Max,” I repeat as my gaze lands on his face. He visibly pales in front of me. “As in The Max from the end of last year. The one who came home with you then ran out? That Max?”

“What other fucking Max could I be talking about?” she snaps, exasperated by my apparent stupidity. “Fuck, he’s still as gorgeous as I remember. Those eyes, that body.” I know. I mind fuck him every bloody day. “Bloody hell, I went to that bar for weeks after trying to track him down. He never showed,” she continues and runs her hand through her hair then readjusts her breasts. “Well, I’m going to go in hard today. He may have run off once, but that man will have his head between my legs tonight.” I look at my horny friend. I really should put a stop to this, but I’m interested to see how it pans out. Mr Lover-boy has a situation to deal with, and he knows it.

Marcy is a friend of a friend; we’ve only known each other since Christmas after meeting at a party. Tonight is our mutual friend’s birthday, and we are out on the town. Most of us are single which means getting some action is high on the priority list. She’s wild and fun, and I enjoy spending time with her. I’ve heard everything about The Max that ran out on her last Autumn. Never once did I consider that it could be my Max, or my mother’s Max, as the case may be.

Two weekends in a row she’d met him at a pub on the outskirts of the city. He’d been there with a male friend. I’m assuming the man sitting across from him now. Jace, I think. They talked, danced, and shared a kiss on the first night but hadn’t swapped numbers. The following weekend he’d been there again, and he’d gone home with her. She was wriggling out of her dress when he turned and ran, apologising that he couldn’t go through with it. Her attempts to bump into him again have been unsuccessful and now, I know why.

“Quick,” she hisses at me, “bathroom regroup now.” She grabs my hand and drags me in the direction of the ladies toilet. We stand in front of the full-length mirror as she smooths down her shocking pink bodycon dress that barely covers her ass. The neckline is cut into a deep V-shape exposing the insides of her full breasts, delicate lace covering the gap. It does nothing to maintain any modesty. Her soft blonde hair is styled in waves to her shoulders. I watch as she reapplies a lashing of charcoal mascara then cerise-pink lipstick. Pursing her lips together, she pouts in the mirror. “Ready,” she shrieks, then strides from the room making a beeline for the booth where he is.

Max is sitting nursing a beer, talking quietly to his friend. He glances up as we approach. His gaze moves from me to Marcy and back to me again. His Adams apple bobs in his throat. “Hi Max,” Marcy purrs. She leans towards him, giving him full view of her breasts. His friend’s eyes pop open. “Long time, no see. Where have you been hiding?” He doesn’t answer and takes a drink of beer instead. “I was hoping we could pick up where we left off.”

My jaw drops open. I knew she was promiscuous, but I never expected her to be so direct. She slides into the booth beside him and places her hand on his arm. A chuckle erupts from his friend opposite. Max rolls his eyes. Jace turns to me. “So Marina, are you going to give me the same offer?” he says. My jaw lowers further. He’s short and bald, wearing a hula shirt. No chance. And the bastard completely outed me to my friend. He flashes me a knowing smile.

Marcy’s head snaps round to me as Max removes her hand from his arm. “You know him?” she hisses. I shake my head. “How did he know your name then?”

“I know Max,” I mumble, and her eyes narrow.

“How?” she hisses, furious I set her up. I go to speak, but Max interrupts me. She turns to face him.

“Because,” he says then pauses, considering what to say next. “I’m in a relationship with her mother.”

“Her mother,” she repeats back to him, and he nods. “But her mum just had a baby.” I can almost see the cogs in her brain working, processing what he’s told her. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for her to catch up. Her mouth pops open in shock.

“So did I,” he says, kindly. “My son is Marina’s little brother.”

“But…” she stammers. “You and I kissed in October. How old is your brother, Marina?” She’s trying to do the maths whilst high on hormones and vodka; it’s not happening.

“Two months,” I mumble. She holds up her fingers and starts to count backwards.

“You kissed me when you were with her mother!” she shouts. Max rubs his forehead in frustration. This is not a conversation he wants to be having.

“No, we’d broken up. I hadn’t seen her since the summer. It was after I met you that we reconnected. But she is the reason I left your apartment that night. I’m sorry for messing you around. Things were complicated.” His focus moves to me. “Marina,” he says with a sigh, “could you not have told your friend you knew me before letting her come over here? Told her my living situation.”

I straighten my shoulders and narrow my eyes at him. His friend chuckles, again. “I wanted to see how you’d react.”

“What did you expect me to do?” he snaps as his eyes fire. He’s fucking hot when he’s annoyed. Many nights I’ve imagined him pinning me down and angrily fucking me when I’ve pissed him off. It’s turned into a bit of an obsession. A naughty nightmare.

“Oh, I don’t know. Deny it.”

“Deny what?” Marcy is still sitting next to him, her eyes moving between us as she becomes more uncomfortable. “There’s nothing to deny. I met Marcy after I returned from Spain last year. We saw each other twice over two weekends. I went back to hers but left. I’m pretty sure you know this…” he trails off.

“But my mother doesn’t,” I spit, and his eyes darken.

“And she doesn’t need to. We weren’t together. She came back to me a week later if I remember, appearing outside my school,” he says, then adds, “pregnant with my son.”

“She needs to know you stuck your tongue down another woman’s throat.”

“What fucking good would that do?” he says, sharply. “We weren’t together. It didn’t mean anything.” He glances at Marcy. “Sorry, no offence.” All the colour has drained from her face. She’s been hankering over him for months, and her whole dream has just been smashed to pieces.

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