Chapter 7
MAX
Ifucking loved holding her hand. Loved it too much. Because this wasn’t just best friends holding hands anymore. We were more, at least in my mind.
The second her fingers laced with mine, and she looked up at me like I was the only safe thing in her universe, I found myself grinning down at her with the silliest smile I’d ever had.
Fuck.
Was I falling in love with her?
Like really in love?
I couldn’t be.
Could I?
I wasn’t some sap who instantly fell in love with people. I know I had said it during the game, but really, it was to get under Jackson’s skin more than anything. But my pulse was too loud in my ears as I thought about all the years Mackenzie and I had shared together.
Maybe I was losing my mind, then. This was definitely not love.
She looked back at me, smiling with her tongue in between her teeth. Her hair fell into her face, and I watched her wrap it up on top of her head with a ponytail holder. She reached out her pointer finger and lightly gripped my pinky.
My God. My heart sprinted yards ahead as I gripped her finger. I was falling for her. Hard.
The lines blurred, and I was finally letting out a part of me that had been caged for years.
I stared at her, and this feeling of absolute terror and bliss crashed inside my chest. I could feel my love for her clawing up my throat. My brain was short-circuiting just looking at her.
Oh, shit. I was in trouble.
This was fast, way too fast. But I had known her for seven years. We talked every day, sometimes multiple times a day. Sometimes for hours. She was the first call in the morning and the last one before bed.
Maybe it wasn’t fast at all. Or maybe I was just trying to rationalize that this was okay, that I was normal.
A normal guy falling in love with his best friend.
A normal guy who would do absolutely psychotic and insane things for his best friend.
Thoughts that were totally fucking scaring me.
A normal guy who wanted to pin his best friend to the bed and fuck her unconscious. I was normal.
Totally normal.
But I wanted Jackson to know she was mine.
I wanted him to feel the loss in his chest every time he looked at her and saw her with me.
I wanted to erase every memory she had of him, and I would be the first everything for her.
I hated him for touching her. For having parts of her I couldn’t get back.
The thought of it was enough to make my hands itch to break something.
“You want to get the kayaks?” she asked, smiling playfully.
“Yeah,” I said, too eager.
She walked to the docks to talk to Graham.
The sun bled orange across the lake. She stood there with her arms wrapped around herself.
Her hair was in a messy bun now, strands curling in the breeze, and she looked so goddamn unattainable it made my teeth ache.
She wasn’t just my best friend anymore. She wasn’t just the girl who knew my coffee order or hummed off-key when she was nervous.
She wasn’t just the one who stayed up talking to me over the phone when I was sick.
She was mine.
I almost felt guilty thinking of her that way. But the nerves didn’t stop me from wanting it. I wanted it so badly.
She didn’t know it yet. My claim on her. I’d decided somewhere between the woods and right now. There was no coming back from it. I wasn’t planning on pretending.
I wanted her. All of her. I wanted to possess her soul. I didn’t know what that made me, only that I couldn’t stop wanting her. Every part of her. Even the parts she hid from me.
My chest ached, not a shallow burn of lust, but a slow, consuming kind you can’t shake. It kind of fluttered, like a moth trying to escape a jar. Every time I looked at her, it swelled.
It was the kind of feeling that makes you protective in ways that aren’t entirely healthy. The kind that says you’d do whatever it takes to keep her.
Was I wrong to feel this way? To feel so protective and territorial and downright psychotic around her?
We knew each other so well. She had to feel it too, right?
If she tried to run, I’d follow. Always.
She turned then, like she could feel my eyes on her, and I didn’t look away. Her silhouette was gold in the dying light, and for one dangerous second, I thought about kissing her.
But I was nervous. Nervous about the way I was feeling. Nervous because this was Mackenzie. I didn’t want to fuck this up.
“You okay over there? You’re staring pretty hard,” she laughed as she walked back towards me.
God, she had no idea.
“Can’t help it,” I said, voice low. “You look… unreal right now.”
Her smirk faltered. “It’s the sweat and bug spray combo, right?”
I stepped in, shaking my head. “No. It’s you. Just you.”
She studied me like she wasn’t sure if I was teasing, and for a moment, I thought she might say something that would tip us over the edge. But then she smiled and bumped her shoulder into mine.
“You’re getting sappy. I think the fake boyfriend thing’s going to your head.”
Oh, honey. I’m not your fake boyfriend. I am your boyfriend. You’ll see.
She turned toward the kayak, and I let my eyes linger on the curve of her neck, the swing of her hips, cataloguing every detail because I was going to need it later. I was already too far gone to play this off like a game.
She was the real thing. For me, at least.
Nothing had ever felt better than this.
Nothing ever would.
“You ready?” I asked, my voice low.
“Yep! Let’s go!” she said, smiling. “It’s going to be dark soon; I thought we could go swim at the Blue Baths.”
I didn’t care where we went. She could’ve said we were heading straight into a storm, and I’d have followed without hesitation. But the Baths did spark something. It had been years since we’d been there. Back when we were sixteen and too young to name the things we were feeling.
“Did Graham give the green light?”
“Yeah, he said today and tomorrow are perfect. The water’s clear.”
I could feel Jackson’s stare before we even pushed off. He stood motionless on the bank, arms crossed and jaw clenched so tightly I feared he might shatter his teeth. His piercing expression sent a wicked thrill through me. He could watch all he wanted—she was mine, and he was powerless.
She was laughing, fixing her hair again, joking that we’d sink because I was ‘too big now.’ Yet, I saw the flicker of tension in her shoulders, the way she furtively glanced back toward shore, as if nervously expecting something to go wrong.
“It’s showtime,” I murmured. “He’s watching.”
Her eyes cut toward me and narrowed. “Who?”
She knew.
She’d already clocked him. Still, I tilted my chin toward Jackson.
“Tall, brooding, looks like he wants to stab me.”
She huffed, small and sharp. God, she was beautiful when she was irritated.
I dug my paddle in and steered us further out, the dock shrinking behind us.
“I can kiss you if you want,” I said, casual on the surface but inside every nerve was on high alert.
Her head whipped around so fast the kayak swayed.
“What?” she squealed.
“To make him jealous,” I shrugged nonchalantly.
“You’re unbelievable. I thought we’d set boundaries.” She was trying to be serious, but I could see the small smile on her lips.
“I’m just committed to the gig,” I said with a slow smile. Her eyes softened, and I knew she’d considered it.
“You’re forgetting the ground rules,” she said.
I smirked. “You said we could improvise.”
I leaned forward, resting my hand on her hip. She froze for a heartbeat but didn’t move away. My thumb brushed over the thin fabric of her shorts.
“I think we need to go slow. Do you want to kiss me that badly, boyfriend?” she asked.
I flicked my gaze toward the shore. Jackson looked like he was chewing through the inside of his cheek.
Good. Let him choke on it.
“Yeah… I want to fucking kiss you, girlfriend.”
I wasn’t pretending, so I might as well lay my cards out now.
She inhaled a breath. She didn’t hesitate the way a timid girl might. Instead, she leaned a hair closer and rested her palm against my thigh. She was showing me that she was in control, that she owned me.
“Then show me how far you’ll go,” she murmured. “Make him watch.”
“Do you trust me?” I asked, a faint hum of excitement coursing through my veins.
“Yes,” she whispered. That single syllable lit something in my chest that was far more dangerous than desire.
I didn’t rush. I let the silence swell, thick and heavy. My thumb stroked lazy circles against her skin. She was breathing faster, and I could feel her struggling to control herself.
“You don’t have to kiss me if you’re not ready,” I said, voice dipped low enough to make it intimate. But in my head, I was already thinking about how easily I could take what I wanted.
She was practically begging me.
Her eyes locked on mine, searching. “I said I trust you,” she repeated.
I leaned in, not enough to touch her, just enough to trap her in my gravity. “Then tell me how far you want this to go.”
Her lips parted, but she looked away toward the shoreline. “I want him jealous.”
I grinned, letting my fingers press a little more firmly into her hip and raising them just a bit higher underneath her shirt.
“That’s a dangerous offer.”
“You afraid of danger?” she teased.
I laughed under my breath, leaning closer until my thigh pressed against her back.
“Danger should be afraid of me.”
I slid my hand up, tugged her cover-up just enough to bare her shoulder, and bent down, brushing my lips over her warm skin.
It was a claiming kiss. I trailed kisses up her shoulder and neck, stopping right beneath her ear.
I didn’t need to push further. The way she was looking at me told me I already had her. That pull started in my chest again.
“You think he’s jealous?” she said breathlessly, her voice one octave higher than normal, as she dropped her paddle into the water, and we started gliding toward the Baths.