Chapter 6 #2
I nodded, stepping closer. I could feel his tension spike the closer I got to him.
“Jackson thinks he owns me. Like he’s figured out a code, like he’s won a game he’s been playing for years. But what if…”
Max arched a brow, sharp and impatient.
“What if what?”
“We prove him wrong?” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.
He studied me. A war waged in those fierce eyes.
“I need you to be my boyfriend,” I said softly. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
“What?” His voice was sharper, more aggressive than I expected.
“I mean, fake boyfriend. Just for the summer. To get Jackson off my back. Then we go back to… whatever we had.”
I shrugged, trying to look casual, but my fingers clenched my arm.
He mulled it over. I could almost see the gears in his brain grinding.
“You think that’ll work? Us faking it? You think Jackson will back off because I say you’re mine?”
“I think,” I said carefully, “he just wants control. And right now, I’m giving him too much.”
Max’s gaze remained steady, his expression now impossible to read. Until he moved closer, and his face stilled with quiet determination.
“And what about me?” he asked.
My heart stumbled. “What about you?”
“I don’t fake shit well,” he warned. “Not with you.” He hesitated, then asked, “What do I get out of this?”
The air thickened. My voice shook. “What do you want?”
He held my gaze, steady, deadly serious.
“I want full boyfriend privileges. When we’re pretending, I want the real thing.”
That wasn’t what I expected.
“But don’t you…” I stammered, unsure how to say it without sounding like I was chaining him. “You can sow your oats. Or whatever. When I’m not around, I don’t want to hold you back.”
He laughed.
“Sow my oats? Are you in the 1800s, Trouble? You mean fuck?”
Damn, Max. This dangerous side of him was confusing as hell because I liked it a lot.
“I mean… yeah, if that’s your thing,” I said, barely meeting his eyes. Sweat dampened my hair at the nape of my neck.
“Yeah, definitely. But Jackson doesn’t think we’re fucking. How are we going to make him believe it? Me just saying we’re dating isn’t going to affect him.”
He stepped closer, the scent of him crashing into me. My heart slammed into my chest.
“Uh… I don’t know.” His finger traced down my arm as he caught my nervous gaze.
“I want to touch you. Where I want. How I want. When I want,” he whispered. “I’ll be a good boy and follow your rules. But when it’s showtime, I’m not holding back.”
Holy shit. Maybe I wasn’t ready for this. Max was in the big leagues, and I was not.
“We have to keep it believable. Just enough to…”
“Believable?” His laugh was low. “I told you, I’m not holding back.”
I stayed toe-to-toe with him. Our eyes locked, letting the silence stretch, letting him wonder what I’d do next. He was so confident.
Could he hear my heart racing? Could he sense the way my breath trembled? Could he smell me? Because in that moment, I was a complete mess, undeniably drenched. I pressed my thighs together to ease the pressure that was forming right there.
“I know you’re not ready for that,” he murmured. “Show me the line, Trouble. Show me what’s okay.”
I slid my fingers into his hand, pressing them to his chest. “This.”
He tilted his head. “That’s nothing. We do that all the time.”
I stepped closer, my shoulder brushing his chest. “This?”
His eyes were locked on mine. “Cute, but still nothing. I had my hands on your tits earlier, Trouble. If we were fucking, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you, so I think we need to include that. Come on, we’re both adults here. Don’t be shy. It’s just me.”
That was the problem, it was him. He was my best friend, and he knew me better than anyone else. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to dive into that layer of intimacy with him.
He took my hand and dragged it up to his jaw, his stubble rough under my fingertips. His eyes closed for a beat, memorizing the touch. “Too much?”
“No,” I said too fast. I was surely going to pass out.
He slid his hand to my waist, drawing me even closer.
His fingers tightened on my ass, and his hands were so large they seemed to envelop me completely.
A groan escaped me, making his eyes flutter shut.
When he opened them, his pupils were so dark they almost consumed the blue of his irises.
I could see him battling his inner demons.
“This too much?” he whispered.
“I… it’s a little bold, but I’ll accept it.”
He smiled, sliding his hand to the back of my neck.
“You’re mine. Whether it’s fake or not, I don’t share. You okay with that?”
Our hips and knees were touching. We were so close that our breaths were mingling. Fireflies flickered like tiny stars around us, like the sparks we both pretended to ignore.
I tried to pull away, and he grabbed me by the waist again, pulling me into him. I hitched a gasp. He smirked.
Max pressed a finger beneath my chin, tilting my face up so I could see every flicker of blue in his eyes. His lips were so close to mine. His breath was hot on my cheek.
“Are you okay with this?” he whispered.
Dusk held its breath with me.
“It’s… I’m okay.”
He held my gaze, then slowly pulled back. He looked like he wanted to devour me whole.
I’d never seen him like this.
“Okay,” he breathed out.
“Okay,” I repeated.
He snarled, low and fierce, “I want that motherfucker frothing at the mouth every time he sees us. I’m going to bury him alive.”
I liked this version of Max. The thought twisted my stomach. What was wrong with me? More than that, I wanted him like this. I wanted the danger. But I felt like I was stepping into a place I wasn’t supposed to go.
I trusted Max. And I felt like if we entered the fire together, we could burn the whole world down.
I imagined us, side by side, unstoppable.
We could do it. We had the chemistry. We had the history.
We knew each other so well, and that was both a weapon and a liability.
A flicker of worry started in my chest. What if my secret slipped?
What if Max said or did something that unraveled everything I’d worked so hard to hide?
I shouldn’t want this. A part of me knew I was doing this because I wanted to be closer to him. More than friends. The pull of him was too sharp to ignore. I knew he could protect me, but what if he burned me alive in the process?
I turned back toward camp. But his footsteps pounded behind me.
“You don’t get to walk away from me that fast,” he said, catching up to me with a sly smile. “I deserve to hold your hand for agreeing to this bullshit.”
He took my hand, lacing his fingers with mine, and we walked back together, past every line we’d ever drawn. Neither of us noticed how fast our hearts were pounding.