Page 38 of BillionHeir
“Coffee?” I ask, trying to keep things business as usual. I ignore that little look of his as I take a sip of the English Breakfast tea that I prefer.
I have realized during my time with Max that he practically runs on coffee. He will drink the bitter liquid morning, noon, and night. I have tried to convince him that it is unhealthy to have so much caffeine, but he hasn’t listened to a word I have said.
“Please,” he says, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating throughout the kitchen. I can feel the vibrations in my body, making me want him even more.
I roll my eyes at myself. The man says one word and my resolve goes out the window? I need to get a grip.
I pour him a cup of coffee I brewed while I was preparing my tea. I don’t add any cream or sugar, just the way he likes it, and hand it to him.
“I was thinking about going for a walk on the beach this morning. Would you like to come with me?”
He looks down at the ankle that has kept him from doing most physical activity since his accident. The last time the doctor came to visit, he said that Max was ready to start doing a little more activity with it. But I wouldn’t blame him for saying no to a walk in the sand.
In fact, I am counting on it.
“Sure,” he says, surprising me. “As long as we stay near the water where the ground is more firm, I should be okay.”
The smirk on his face tells me that he knows I was trying to avoid him.
An hour later, we are walking the rocky beach. Coming from the UK, I don’t need white sand and bright blue water for the beach to be relaxing. In fact, I much prefer the wilder version. It feels more authentic.
Some of the earlier tension I was feeling with Max has subsided, giving way to a free-flowing conversation about our respective college days.
“Why do I get the impression you were involved in Greek Life?” I ask, watching the way Max’s easy smile takes over his face as a memory strikes him.
“Liam, Tristan, and I rushed our first semester there,” he confirms. “The first year was terrible, but we built friendships that will last a lifetime. You?”
“I thought about it, but I was so focused on getting my nursing degree that I didn’t have time for much else.”
He is quiet for a moment before hurling another question at me.
“Weirdest sexual encounter?”
I let out a stuttered, awkward laugh as a memory immediately springs into my mind. So much for the evaporated tension.
“You can’t be serious! Do you really want to know?”
Max looks over at me with a devious look in his eyes. “Of course.”
“Ugh. Okay. You asked for it.” We continue down the beach, dodging the incoming waves as we walk. “Sophomore year, Jenna and I wanted to get drunk, but everyone we knew who was old enough to buy us alcohol was out of town. It must have been some kind of holiday or break. Anyway, I remembered this guy who I had recently met at a party who had not so subtly let me know that he had ‘the hook up’ and gave me his number. I didn’t know his name, but everyone called him ‘Tank’.”
“Tank?” Max asks incredulously.
“To be quite frank, he looked like more of a barrel bursting at the seams than an actual tank. But I wasn’t there when he got the nickname, so I can’t really explain that. Either way, he quickly responded when I sent a text asking him if he had a bottle of vodka to help us out. He told me we could meet him at his apartment to pick it up. When I messaged him from the parking lot, he asked me to come up to his apartment. Jenna was busy on her phone, so I stupidly left her in the car and walkedup to his door by myself. It was inside the building and down this long dimly lit hallway that smelled like old, musty beer. I had to knock a few times before he answered. I was almost ready to leave when he finally opened the door. And then there he was in all his enormous, sweaty, overweight glory, standing shirtless in a mostly darkened room with no vodka in sight.”
Max’s eyes widen. “He did not.”
I smile at his reaction, knowing that he hasn’t even heard the worst part yet. “He did. Then he asked me if I would like to come in and take a shot with him. I politely declined, of course, but he had one last offer of persuasion.”
“What?” Max asks, staring at me impatiently as we continue our walk.
“He whispered, still standing half-naked in front of me, ‘I will eat you out.’”
Max throws his head back and laughs, clearly taking pleasure in one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. “What did you say?” he asks when he finally gets control over himself.
“What could I say, really? I was totally speechless! I just shook my head and ran back down to Jenna’s car as fast as I could.” I can feel the heat in my cheeks, both from the mortifying story and the bright Maine sun.
“After all of that, you didn’t even get the vodka?” Max asks, his eyes dancing with amusement.
