Page 79 of The Forbidden Trio

“Do we have to do this standing in the bathroom?”

“What? No, of course not.”

He took her hand and led her to the living room, where they settled onto the large gray suede sectional sofa. He spread a soft white throw blanket over her lap. The morning light came gently through the enormous windows, casting auburn highlights in his hair, making his eyes gleam as she studied his profile. His beard stubble made him seem all the more vulnerable for some reason, and once more she wanted to run her fingers over it. But she didn’t want to distract him right now.

He blew out a breath and sat back against the cushions. “It was about a year before my mother left us. I’ve come to realize as an adult that it probably had a lot to do with her taking off. Not that I’ve stopped being pissed that she left us. Leftme. Anyway. We were out by the pool. I was six and Charlotte was four, four and a half, maybe. My mother got up to take a phone call and wandered into the house, leaving us out there playing on the lawn. Charlotte had her dolls, and I had my Tonka jeep. I was driving it across the grass, like kids do, when I heard a splash. When I turned to look, Charlotte wasn’t there. I knew right away she was in the pool. I yelled for our mother, but she didn’t come. I wanted to jump in, but I’d just had my first swim lessons, so I… I just stood there. For too damn long.” His hands flexed into two tight fists, then he uncurled them, pausing to stare at his palms, as if looking for answers. “Finally, I did jump in and dog-paddled around, but she was on the bottom of the pool and I didn’t know how to get to her. I was screaming by then, just this scared little kid.” He shook his head. “Shit.”

He stopped and scrubbed at his chin once more while Aster’s heart froze in her chest. No, it wasn’t frozen—it was hammering. Hammering, as she imagined a too-young Max knowing he couldn’t save his sister, yet desperately trying. It explained so much about him, about the way he’d always looked after her.

Tears stung her eyes, but she felt she had to hold them back. “Jesus, Max. You never told me.”

“I’d been kind of trained not to. I’ve always trusted you, Aster—it was never that. And sometimes, when you’ve held a secret for too long, it’s hard to let it out after keeping it locked up so tight. Or maybe it’s just been too hard to talk about.”

“Of course. I totally get it. Or, as much as I can, not having gone through something like this.”

“Anyway,” he continued, “I got the tattoo on the twentieth anniversary of her death. I was sick and tired of denying her existence. I still don’t know where the hell our mother was while her daughter drowned. It was the housekeeper who finally came running. She jumped into the water with us, dove down and dragged Charlotte from the pool, then grabbed me by the arm and pulled me out, too. After that, I remember a lot of activity. The ambulance came, the housekeeper was crying, my mother was hysterical. Then, everything got very quiet, and stayed that way for a long time. It was as if my sister had disappeared, as if she’d never been. There was never a funeral. My father never spoke of it, and my mother kind of disappeared herself until she actually left and ran off to Europe. They fired that housekeeper, or maybe she left of her own accord. I don’t know. And it pisses me the hell off, all of it. But it wasn’t too long ago that I was able to face my feelings around it. I’m still dealing with the fallout, to be perfectly honest. I think some of it will always stick with me.”

“Yes, that makes a lot of sense. I’m so sorry. So very sorry, Max.”

He turned to face her, and though there were still shadows lingering in his blue eyes, they’d faded a little. He took her hand in his, and she squeezed it, trying to offer some silent comfort.

“Thank you.” He wrapped his fingers around hers. “I didn’t tell you because by the time I decided to deal with all those old feelings, you and I were living such separate lives. There hasn’t been an opportunity. It’s not something I could put in an email or text.”

“No, of course not. I just wish I’d known. I wish I could have been there for you while you were processing this.”

He smiled faintly. “Water under the bridge. It all happened the way it happened—and that’s not me brushing it off. I have been processing. I still am, but in a different way now. I’m glad I told you—you needed to know. Deserved to know. But we all have our pasts, don’t we? Everyone has something painful that’s happened to them, some loss or darkness, and we keep doing our lives, moving on, because what other option do we have? It all makes us who we are, so in some weird sense it’s okay. At least, that’s the conclusion I’ve come to. All this awful shit happened, and it’s led to us being here now, you and I together. And that feels pretty damn good. And while there will always be some damage left from what happened, I’m doing okay. Better than okay.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah. I promise. You don’t have to worry about me.”

She reached out and stroked his cheek, her heart bursting. “But I do, you know. I think about you. Where you are, what your life is really like? If anyone’s ever broken your heart…”

He smiled. “Always the big sister, huh?”

“Maybe that’s what it is. Or…” she shrugged. “Or maybe it’s something else.”

He was quiet a moment, his dark brows drawing together. “Yeah.”

His brows relaxed, his features softening, then he leaned in and kissed her cheek, her lips, before drawing her to him.

“I’m glad you know. I want you to know me, and I want to know you.”

“What would you like to know about me?”

“I want to know how you’re still single.”

She groaned. “Seriously? That’s what you’re going to ask me? You already know about Doctor Brian.”

“He can’t have been the only one.”

“He wasn’t. But I meant what I said earlier, that there’s never been anyone I was serious with. What else do you want to know?”

“What do you do in your off time?”

“I hang out with Cassie, or some of my other friends. I go to kink events, play. Sometimes I scene with friends, and sometimes it’s someone I meet at a club. And don’t worry—I’m always safe. I only do pickup play at the club where other people are around to keep an eye on things, and mostly it’s with people my friends can vouch for. I’ve always had good experiences.”

“Good. Because if any of them have ever harmed you in any way, I’d have to hunt them down.”

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