Page 51 of Invisible String
“Sure.”
“Umm. I’m not trying to impose. I know I was right when I said you were not keen on anyone’s touch. It’s not my business, but if it’s related to your back, someone hurt you. Did your dad do anything about it?” Her eyes are downcast, not meeting my own, and her words pour out cautiously.
I reach out and take her hand, intertwining our fingers. It wasn’t until this moment that I realized what I did absentmindedly. I stay silent, leading us out the door. She doesn’t push for answers.
“It was my dad.” That’s all I let slip. I won’t go into detail about it or the rest of my life with her. Not now, at least. “We can come back later and pick up your car,” I add.
Her chin trembles, and her eyes soften. “I’m so sorry, Max.” She squeezes my hand.
I unlock my car door for her, but before she can step inside, I lean over and gently kiss her cheek. The bright fluorescent lights of the parking lot dance across her skin, highlighting her soft features and making her glow in the darkness. “Don’t pity me.”
Her warm hand cradles my cheeks. “I’m not pitying you. I’m angry, so fucking angry. I can’t handle you being hurt or anyone hurting you.”
“That was when I was young and had no way of defending myself. That’s not me anymore. If anything, people fear me.” My heart expands at the gentleness of her touch. She does gingerly, with kindness in her heart, to care for someone like me.
“Told ya. You’re a badass, champ.” And just like that, she eases the pain in my chest. She doesn’t ask more questions, at least not yet, but she will.
Rainey
A tall sign at the window readsToday’s special: $1 beers from 6 until closing.This bar earns its reputation with great burgers and cheap beers. Max goes around to open the door for me. He takes my hand. He’s so oblivious. Max doesn’t see that his gesture is as if we were lovers. The way he opens doors, pulls chairs out, cuddles, and makes love to me is as if he’s done it amillion times. When he hasn’t, it’s as if it comes naturally when we’re together, and he doesn’t recognize what he does.
“What do you want to eat,tesoro mío?”Our fingers lock together as he reaches for my hand. He drags our hands onto his lap. See? He doesn’t realize what he’s doing.
To me.
“I’ll have a bacon burger and a Modelo.” I shrug. Today, beer sounds good.
“I’ll have the same,” he says, kissing my knuckles.
Heat pours like rain down my body. Flustered by every ounce of affection.
Why do most women who work at bars have to have low-cut shirts showing their rather large breasts? The server took our order right before bending at the waist to take the order as if she couldn’t hear Max. Some women have no morals.
“Have you been here before?” His voice is a low, delicious rumble in my ear.
You would think he said he wanted to lick my body up and down by how turned on I am by the sound of his voice asking a simple question.
“No. Have you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
The server with great tits sets the beers down. However, mine are better.
“Tell me something? Anything.” I’ll do anything to hear his husky, dripping with sex voice.
“I had a tree house when I was young. My friend and I would sit there for hours.” He smiles at the memory.
“Lucky. I’ve always wanted a treehouse. I asked Dad, and he said they were dangerous.”
Max gently brushes my lips. His callused thumb sends sparks of electricity. “I’d build you one now. Then I’d play with you inside. An adult tree house.”
I snort, then take a sip of my beer. “You’d break the boards,” I tease. “Adult tree house?”
“Are you trying to say I’m fat?” He makes a face like I offended him.
I roll my eyes at him. “You’re made of steel. You’d snap it in half.”
Max’s lips turn while taking a drink. “I’d use the heaviest logs that’d hold us.”
