Page 30 of Surviving the Break
“I can agree to that.”
I flipped the first card. “Favorite color? Brown—”
“Gray.” Max's eyes widened. Did he not have a favorite color until that very second? It didn’t escape me that both my eyes and hair were gray. I offered him a chance to draw a card.
“What do you value the most?” he asked, and then answered, “Relationships—”
“People,” I said, simultaneously.
“My relationships with people,” he clarified.
“I know what you meant,” I whispered. His shoulders tensed at the idea that I understood him. Max loved the people in his life. His value system would never be reduced to merely something romantic. He blushed harder under my admiring gaze. A small panic set in when I thought back to Justin telling me I watched Max like I could see through him. Was that how I watched him now? I’d have to be more mindful.
“My turn.” I read the question once to myself. “What character trait do you hate the most? Dishonesty—”
“Lying.” Max leaned forward. “Are you reading my mind, Ash?” He winked, doing his best to loosen up.
I damn near melted. Max was adorable when he flirted by accident. We went through a handful more cards, then moved on to level two. “Okay. Still one-word answers, but then each player needs to give an explanation,” I said. Max bit his bottom lip, and I grew semi-hard at his unintentional sexiness. It wouldn’t be long before my cock firmed up enough to drill nails.
He took a deep breath, then set his plucked card down and asked, “What scares you the most?” He paused, and so did I. Something unspoken was communicated between us. An understanding that we were in this together. “Love—”
“Love,” we said. Max looked about ready to bolt for having admitted that, so I rushed on to explain my answer first, hoping to inspire courage. “Never knowing it. Romantically.” I was surprised by his questioning expression. “Did you not believe me when I said I’d never been in a relationship?”
“I guess I didn’t assume that meant you’d never been in love.” He shook his head once at not putting it together, then explained his answer. “Having and then losing it. Again.” His guard dropped for a second, letting me know love was a territory Max wouldn’t venture into a second time. Not willingly. But in life, sometimes things happened against your will. In his retreat back to nervousness, he plucked twice in a row. “Are you a jealous lover?”
“Yes,” I answered alone as he contemplated the card in his hand. I went on to clarify, giving him time with his thoughts. “I’ve never had to be, but I imagine I have the potential for it. I’m patient, but being friends with someone as territorial and possessive as Damon hasn’t left me unscathed.” I grinned at my own joke, but he missed it, still gazing down at the card.
“You know,” he started, lining his gaze up with mine, “you’ve told me two stories so far that involved you being jealous.” He smiled, laying the card on the growing pile.
The story of Marisol and my mother. “Are you a jealous lover?”
“I’ve had to be. I wouldn’t say that’s my natural instinct.”
Where was this headed, and did I stop it for fear that it would lead to him running? “I wouldn’t peg you for the jealous type.”
“Yeah, well, love can make a monster out of anyone.”
Move on or push? Pushing had gotten me nowhere in the past, but maybe… “Max—”
“It’s your turn.” He pointed toward the stack of cards.
I followed his lead. I read the question. “Bottom or top?” I struggled to keep a straight face.
“Fuck you, it does not say that.”
“It does too—” I was tackled before the last word passed my lips. Laughing hysterically, we wrestled for the card. We both held the upper hand at more than one point. In the end, Max placed me into a submission hold, and rather than fight it, I tapped out.
He wrenched the card from my hand and fell back, breathing hard. “You’re such a liar,” he said, no heat in his words.
“And you, my friend, know how to wrestle.” I adjusted my clothing.
“I wrestled all through high school. Won a few championships, too.”
“Is that so?” I stood, grabbing his hand. “Follow me.” We entered a room at the back of the penthouse, and I flicked on the light. A kitted and booted wrestling gym. Equipped with singlets, jockstraps, mouth guards, and headgear. “I wrestled in high school as well. It’s one of the sports I still enjoy taking part in. If I have time, a trainer comes to grapple with me. Sometimes I go to ground with Damon.”
Max whistled, liking what he saw. “So, you think you can take me?” Cockiness poured off him like melted butter.
I liked playful Max. “It’d sure be fun to try.”
