Page 20 of Wicked Devotion
“Fuck,” Max mutters, throwing everything in the sink. With his now free hands, he pulls me close, looking worried when he examines the deep purple bruise that spreads from my shoulder down to my back.
“Did we do this to you?”
“I don’t think so,” I say quietly, staring at his chest. “Must have happened when the guy Logan shot fell down on me.”
“Good thing he’s dead,” Max says, brushing a strand of hair out of my face before he hooks his fingers under mychin, forcing me to look at him. “Because I’d have to kill anyone who tries to hurt you.”
The butterflies in my stomach pressure me to confront the fact that I am maybe a tiny bit attracted to this man.
“Arms up,” he orders, snapping me out of my trance. He pulls a shirt over my head, handing me a pair of sweatpants and socks once he’s done. “I guess you want to put these on by yourself,” he says, grinning when I give him a look.
Max is lounging on his bed as I leave the bathroom, gesturing me to join him.
“You want to talk or eat first?” he asks.
“Talk,” I say, despite being hungry. But my stomach doesn’t take stress well, and I fear what Max will tell me is going to cause me a lot of stress.
“Fine with me,” he says. Once I stand in front of his bed, he pulls me down until I’m sitting next to him, our thighs touching.
“So… I’ve been a little obsessed with you since I saw you for the first time.” His grip tightens, making it impossible to squirm away. “Don’t panic, not in an ‘I want to wear your skin’way.”
“Ah, glad to hear that,” I blurt out, making him laugh. “What does this have to do with Logan, though? And while we’re already at it, why on earth did he ask me to open my mouth?”
“Well, probably because he wanted you to open your mouth.” He shrugs. “Logan’s pretty straightforward.”
“Not funny, Max,” I say, nudging his side.
“It’s complicated. No, it’s actually not. Look, Logan and I like to share.”
Share me how exactly? Maybe Max watches while the deranged one kills me?
“You’re still with me?” he asks, softly squeezing my waist.
“Mhm.” I will not speak until I am sure I won’t dig my own grave deeper than it already is.
“I want you. Same goes for Logan. And you want to stay here, so why not make this work out in a way all of us profit from.”
I must have fallen down in the shower. Knocked myself out cold, and now I’m dreaming about a fantasy I should stick back in thenu-uhdrawer at the back of my head where it had escaped from.
Feverishly, I try to come up with a list of pros and cons.
Sure, I could tell Max I don’t want to stay with them, especially not under these conditions. Ask him to drive me home, where I can spend time in my destroyed house, and wait until the bright red target on my back turns into a bullet hole in my head. Of course, I’d have to take care of Brady’s mess in the meantime; if I find a lawyer who lets me pay with invisible money.
Or I could accept all these new and confusing feelings and make the best of it. I almost died a few days ago, so what if this is the universe’s way of telling me to change my life?
I guess it took me too long to react because Max turns my head toward him, and suddenly, his lips are dangerously close to mine. I lean away, should probably leave the country while I still can, but instead, I look from his eyes to his lips. Mesmerized, and incredibly stupid as I shut my eyes and wait for him to close the distance between us.
He doesn’t. Not even after I count to three in my head. Twice.
Why is there no magic spell to make the floor open up and swallow me whole? I would also take a meteor, a collapsing building, or a sun storm because I’m sure I reached the highest level of embarrassment the human body can tolerate.
And Max—Max laughs before giving me a soft kiss on my forehead. Leaving me confused, wanton, abashed, and horriblyself-conscious—a new combination of feelings I could have lived without.
“Can I go hide in the bathroom again, please? Forever, or just until you’re asleep, whatever works for you.”
He ignores my rambling and pulls me in his lap, laughing when he sniffs my hair.
“You smell like me. I like it,” he whispers, and I allow myself to lean into his touch.
