Page 62 of It's Not Home Without You

I was dirty.

If Max were to touch me again, I was so freaking scared I would crumble and do it all over. I knew myself, and I would succumb to his touch, to have his heat on me, his smell on my skin. Not saying it was right, because it wasn’t, but it was crazy how it was so easy to lose yourself in someone else. To lose all your morals and be led by instinct instead. To want and take because at that moment no one mattered because the heart didn’t understand right from wrong. The heart wanted what it wanted, even if getting it meant starting a war.

Once was a mistake, but to do it again, that would be an affair, and I was better than that. I deserved better. I quickly got dressed, and for a second time in my life, I left my grandpa a note. I didn’t feel too bad about it this time because I would be back, but I needed space to breathe. To think and come to terms with what I did.

Looking at the trailer, I convinced myself that distancewas a good thing. Space would do me good. I needed to separate this town from what Max and I did. I slept with an engaged man. I needed to come to terms with my mistake and move on. With shaky fingers, I dialed the last person I’d ever thought I would ask for help.

“Gorgeous, I didn’t think you’d go ahead with our deal,” Ashton greeted me.

“Can we leave right now?”

“Anything for you, gorgeous, just give me an hour.” I heard the smugness in his voice, but right then it didn’t bother me. I gave him my grandpa’s address and waited for him, so I could run away from my problems once again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

“Please, Max, I need you,”Freya whispered in my ear. We were in our spot at the old water tower. Her ass on the hood of my car just like the last time, I had her, but this time she was a woman. My woman. She leaned back on the shiny black hood, spread her silky legs, and my mouth watered at the sight of her glistening pink pussy. Fuck, when was the last time I had my head between her legs? Licking, sucking, and making her scream my name was my favorite thing to do. I yearned for her moans and savored her taste. I needed more of her.

“Max, baby, I love you.”

I closed my eyes, trying to hide the pain those words brought. How many nights did I yearn to hear those words come out of her mouth?

Son of a bitch.

I woke with my dick hard, breathing as if I had just run a marathon.

“Honey, is everything okay?” Abigail’s manicured hand rested above my racing heart. She rarely stayed over; her family was conservative and wouldn’t let her move in with me until we weremarried. She thought it would be more exciting moving in together once we became husband and wife. That was fine with me. I liked my space. I loved that she didn’t hover. She didn’t whine. She was justthere.

I was fucking angry at myself for losing control. I was mad at Abigail for sleeping over today. Most of all, I was furious at Freya for running away from me. I looked down at Abbi’s hand on my bare chest. I knew I could blow off steam with her, but her scent wasn’t what I wanted to smell, and her slim body lacked the curves I was searching for. Sliding inside Abigail wouldn’t be home like it was when I was with Freya.

“I’m fine. Come on, let’s go back to sleep,” I lied, but she didn’t question me.

As soon as the sun rose, I got out of bed, grabbed my running gear, and left. I needed to clear my head. There was an answer, but I wasn’t getting it. My wedding was in three weeks. As soon as my feet hit the pavement, I ran. For years I avoided thinking about Freya and me. Today those memories were haunting me.Freya and me holding hands the night she agreed to be my girl. Us on our first official date, a picnic by the park.

But those weren’t the only memories that haunted me.

The first time I met Abigail, the way she soothed mypain. On our first date, I took Abigail to eat at Moore’s—something different; Freya free. Abbi looked me in the eyes and told me, “This isn’t my usual style, Maximilian, but for you, I can stay.” I remember winking at her.

I was worth staying for.

Then that night when it was time to leave, and I ran my hand up her leg under the table, only to have it smacked away. Instead of being put off by her behavior since I had gotten used to having what I wanted, I walked her home and kissed her goodnight.

“I may have wanted you for a long time, Maximilian, but that doesn’t mean I will put out for you on the first, second, or third date.” She then came up to me,pulled me down by the tie around my neck, and kissed my mouth possessively. It was the first time in years that anything excited me. So, I took her on more dates. On the fourth date, she let me finger her to oblivion. On the sixth date, I had my head between her legs, and she screamed my name. On the seventh date, she sucked me off in my office, and on the eighth date, she invited me to stay the night.

Abigail Newton made me forget.

What started as a challenge and my new coping mechanism turned into something more. I grew to care for Abigail. I even grew to love her. We were sitting together at my parents’ house, her laughing at something my mother said, and at that moment, I was content. I could picture a life with Abigail, and the thought didn’t scare me. I was ready to embrace my new life.

So, I did.

I bought a ring and proposed to Abigail in the backyard of her childhood home with both of our families in attendance. Everything was fine until Freya walked back into town looking as beautiful as the day she left. I had been living with the pain of her absence for a long time. I didn’t realize I had become desensitized to it until I saw her standing at Hayward’s Auto Shop. I loved Abigail, but what I felt for Freya surpassed everything else.

Loving Abigail was like the flames of a bonfire, beautiful and it kept you warm, but when it was over, you scrapped it off and moved on. Freya was like an inferno burning me alongside her. I loved Abigail, but it paled in comparison to what I had always felt for Freya. My run exhausted me. I pushed myself past my limits because the burn in my lungs was better than feeling myself rip in half. Even though I was tired as shit, instead of heading home, I went to Emma’s.

After last night, things changed. I knew what I wanted.

Emma wasn’t around, only Quincy. “Is Freya coming in?” I asked, barely catching my breath. The kid looked me up and down before he replied, “Nah, she left for San Francisco.” I turned around before he could finish telling me more. Freya had left, leaving me to pick up the mess she left behind once again.

No matterhow many times I pulled on my tie, I still felt like it was choking me. The rehearsal dinner was going offwithout a hitch. My father and Prescott were busy talking up our guests, campaigning for Prescott’s upcoming election.

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