Page 18 of Wickedly Played
It is his turn to shrug. “I shouldn’t answer that question.”
We’re quiet for the rest of the way back to my house. He instructs me to stay out of the home as he does a glance at the home before allowing me to come inside.
“Thank you,” I murmur as I walk up the stairs.
“Serena,” he calls.
“Yes?” I ask, turning on my heels.
“For what it is worth,” he begins, “I did like it.”
I smile. “I felt that you did on my back. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone you have feelings or desires,” I sass.
Over the next week, we won’t talk about the obvious. Max goes back to just being in the background of everything I do. My stalker has written a couple of notes, but Max has intercepted them.
We are now seated in Adam’s office to see how things are going between us. Jim is next to me, and Max is leaning against the wall. I’m pretty sure my crush on him is evident to everyone but him. I can’t help it.
“Things are going well,” I confirm.
Adam nods. “Max, what about you?”
My bodyguard shrugs. “As good as they can be going, I guess.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jim demands.
“She’s safe. We haven’t had too many problems. I don’t have anything else to report,” he explains.
Great.
I go to get up when Adam calls out for his brother to stay a little longer.
“Serena, how are you?” Jim asks.
“I’m trying.”
“I know you had a good relationship with your last two guards. But Max is doing good. Right?”
“Yes. He’s fine. I guess I’m just tired. I had a couple of shows last night and I’m tired.”
He pats me on the shoulder. “I hear the shows are going good, too. I’m proud of you, kid.”
“Thanks,” I whisper.
Jim is probably the closest thing I have to a father since mine is a piece of shit.
After the hot shower, I pull my sheets down to slide into bed when I start to hear screaming. “Max?” I yell through the adjoining door.
When he doesn’t answer, I walk into his room. “Max?” I call again. Without an answer, I walk over to his bed to see him fighting something off in his sleep. I place my hand on his shoulder to try to wake him up.
“Max?” I yell once more.
This time, he does wake up. He grabs my hand, rolls me so I’m under him, and his body is pressed on top of me. “Hey, precious,” he murmurs against my neck.
Precious? Who the fuck is that?
He calls me Sweetness.
“Max,” I whisper.
