Page 22 of Invisible String
“He’s definitely hotter than the professor,” she shouts, grinning toward Max.
I’m terrified to turn around.
“Does he know?”
“I think it’s time you go back to your date, hook-up, or whatever he is,” I whisper, tugging on her arm.
“Bye, Max, it’s good to see you again.” She points to him, then to me. “You guys get back to it.”
“I’m so going to suffocate you in your sleep.”
Lana winks and walks off.
Oh, my God. I’m afraid to turn around to face him. I’m not the type of girl to get embarrassed, but with Max, my body seems to want to melt. Slowly, I spin on my heels. Max leans his head on the log cabin wall of the house while his feet are still dangling in the warm, gurgling water. His lips form a straight line.
Twiddling my fingers, I say in a low voice. “Sorry, about her?—”
“She hasn’t changed much? Huh? Seven years and still a loudmouth.” His lips turn. In the last hour, he’s relaxed somewhat with me. His smile is one to remember. If only he would let me see the rest of him.
“No, she hasn’t. If anything, she has gotten worse at running her mouth. She is so blunt. I’m not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse.” I laugh, walking to him.
“Do you want to go inside? You’re cold.” The heat in his gaze rolls over my body, landing on my cold, erect nipples.
My face heats. I’m grateful he can’t see me clearly. It’s dark, and neon light spills across my face.
“Sure, we can go inside. It’s getting chilly.” I gesture with my hands to my body. “And I’m still wet.”
Max climbs out, reaches for a towel on the patio chair, and hands it to me. Taking it, I dry myself and then wrap it around my waist. I’m so angry Lana ruined the kiss. I can still feel the lingering of his lips on mine. He opens the sliding door, and I trail behind him.
“Follow me to the room. I’ll get you some clothes,” Max mutters in his gruff tone.
It would make perfect sense to go back to my cabin to change, but the hell with that. I’d rather wear Max’s clothes. The house is stunning as we walk up the stairs. There are photos of wild animals—bears, to be exact. It resembles an old cottage home. There are no family photos, but since it’s a rental, they can’t really have them up. He pulls open a drawer and takes out a pink shirt and some spandex shorts. Women’s clothing. Why does he have women’s clothing? Is it an ex or some random hook-up? Jealousy churns in my gut.
“Here, I’m not sure if they’ll fit.”
I snatch them from his hold. His brows pinch together at my ludicrous attitude.
“Who do they belong to?” I extend the clothes in front of me. A little too small for me.
“Not mine,” he jokes.
Yes, Max joked. His green eyes sparkle in amusement. Can he tell I’m jealous? I hope not.
“They don’t fit. I have more curves than this chick.” My tone is sassy as I toss them on the bed.
A small chuckle leaves his lips, causing me to jut my head up. As much as I would like to drown in his husky laugh and bottle it up, I want to know what’s so funny. I mean, the guy never laughs.
“What’s so funny?” I mutter under my breath, turning from him to hide my embarrassment.
“Nothing, Rain. Just didn’t think you’d get all worked up over a pair of women’s clothes.”
“I didn’t get worked up.” My voice comes out like a child throwing a tantrum.
“I beg to differ. You had smoke rings coming out of your ears.”
It’s clear he heard jealousy in my tone, and I hate that I’m being this way.
“Whatever.” I fold my arms to my chest.
