Chapter 10
MAX
Iwas going to combust. Right there in that stupid vinyl booth, in the middle of a half-dead diner with peeling wallpaper and sticky syrup bottles. The universe had planned the worst possible stage for my downfall.
One second, she was talking about milkshakes, and the next, my brain was busy undressing her, flipping through a highlight reel of every way I wanted her. I had already thought about it all night and all goddamn morning.
Maybe I just haven’t decided what I want to do with you yet.
What the fuck was I supposed to do with that? How did I fucking respond to that?
My jaw locked. My fingers flexed against the table like I could crush the wood if I just squeezed hard enough.
I needed a stress ball because she was giving me high blood pressure.
Tension coiled low in my stomach, hot and mean, like a fuse waiting for a spark.
My knee bounced like I was sixteen again, not a guy two months shy of nineteen who was supposed to have a handle on himself.
The problem was, I didn’t want to control myself. I didn’t want to play the good guy. Ever since that kiss, I was losing it. I wanted her. Every look. Every touch. Every laugh that ended with her shoulder brushing mine made me feel like I was drowning. And she had no fucking clue.
“Something wrong?” she asked sweetly, batting her lashes like she wasn’t about to dismantle me, piece by piece.
I gripped the table’s edge like it could ground me. Holding onto something was good for me. It kept me from flying straight out of my body.
“You’re dangerous,” I said, because it was either that or groan her name across the damn diner.
She smiled. “You know, I was thinking of giving you that nickname.”
Yep, I was about to groan.
She licked her lips. “You kind of like it, right?”
Like? Like?!
No, no, I was addicted. I was trying to be a good boy. But she was fucking flirting with me, and I wanted to bend her over this table and make her feel how addicted I was.
“I love danger,” I quipped back, smirking.
“Good, because I’m just getting started.”
“Careful,” I warned, “I don’t like being messed with.”
I’d let her mess with me, though, only her.
She tilted her head, smiled, and then decided to go full nuclear.
“Yeah? Then what are you going to do about it, sweet boy?”
My elbow slid off the table, and I nearly cracked my skull like an idiot. She couldn’t be serious.
She twirled a loose piece of hair around her finger. She was serious. Drop dead, crazy in the head, serious. I mean, damn, she could pick up the knife off the table right now and carve my heart out, and I’d let her feed it to me on a platter.
I let out a low laugh and leaned closer to her.
“Oh, baby…” The word slipped out before I could stop it. “Keep teasing me, and we won’t make it to the tattoo shop.”
Her grin sharpened. “You’d like that? Making me yours?”
I mean, she already was. But I’d let her keep thinking I was playing the game until the time was right.
I swallowed, dragging my eyes from her lips. “I don’t think you’re ready for that yet.”
She had no idea what I would do to her.
“You underestimate me,” she said, twirling her hair again. “I’m not a little girl anymore. Maybe you’re not ready for me.”
I wanted to tell her everything, all the filthy things building in my head. But I bit my tongue.
“I’m trying to be good, Trouble,” I admitted, staring at the menu. “But if you keep talking like this, this fake relationship of ours? It’s going to have problems.”
“What kind of problem are we talking about?” she teased. “Principal’s office? Detention?”
I grinned then. “Oh no. Worse.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Oh, worse? Wow. What, then? Do I need to beg for some extra credit? Bend me over a desk and—”
I nearly choked on my water. I froze mid-sip, as if someone had unplugged me from reality. My brain short-circuited, as visions of her bent over a desk with her skirt hiked up around her waist flashed through my mind. She had been reading my mind again.
I didn’t know what to say to her. If this were anyone else, I would’ve quipped back with something snarky.
But it was Mackenzie. When I was around her, I reverted to that twelve-year-old nerd she had befriended.
My body was hot, my palms sweating. She said it so casually, like she hadn’t just pulled the pin on my grenade.
She was a freak. And I loved it.
“Fuck,” I whispered, because it was either that or confess every fantasy right there between the salt and pepper shakers.
The waitress popped next to us, saving me from complete combustion. Mackenzie jumped a little, breaking our bubble. I ordered a milkshake with two straws like some smug idiot in a rom-com movie, and she gave me a look.
“What?” I said. “You’re gonna drink half of mine anyway.”
The waitress came back with our drink, and the second her lips closed around that straw, I felt it. That hum, that pull, like we were standing on the edge of something we couldn’t come back from.
She licked the chocolate from her mouth, and my eyes dropped without permission. My thoughts weren’t even subtle anymore. They were full-blown confessions.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she warned.
Like that.
I knew exactly what she meant. I was going to tear her apart. Watch her beg. I wanted her so wrecked she couldn’t walk straight for days.
“If you’re going to flirt with me like that, then fuck, baby, buy me breakfast first.”
I gave her a killer smile, waiting for her to fold. But in true Mackenzie fashion, she just matched me.
She didn’t laugh. She didn’t tease. She just looked at me. And that look? That was the moment I realized that she didn’t want to fake. But she hadn’t admitted it to herself yet.
MACKENZIE
My heart slammed against my ribs. I hadn’t meant to be so forthcoming, but I was turned on just by sitting next to him, and I wanted him to know it.
I was going to tell him to make me beg for it, that I wanted to, but before I could respond, the waitress slid by, and Max started ordering like he hadn’t just promised to ruin me.
When she left, I finally found my voice again.
“You think this is a done deal,” I said, looking away.
“What?” he asked.
“Us. You and me.”
“It is a done deal.” His voice was so deep I could feel it vibrate through me. “I told you that if you keep teasing me, we’ll have a problem.”
“And the problem is?” My eyes flicked back to his.
“I’ll give it to you right now.” His smile was sharp, wicked. “And you’re going to fucking like it.”
My pulse stuttered. Was he joking? Teasing? Or serious?
“Oh, Dangerous.” His eyes lit up when I said his new nickname. “You think we can do that without feelings?”
He hesitated, then looked down, fiddling with his fork.
He knew exactly what I meant. We’d been undressing each other with words seconds ago, but this wasn’t just flirting anymore.
We were moving into a new territory. The air changed between us.
It wasn’t just tension anymore. This was something real.
“I don’t know,” he admitted finally. “I told you, I’ll do whatever you want. I just… need to know the limits.”
“I told you the limits,” I whispered.
“Those have changed now, don’t you think?” he said, his eyes dark and hungry.
I inhaled slowly, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “That’s because you keep blurring the lines.”
He leaned forward, his fork spinning lazily between his fingers. “I’m not blurring them. You are.”
“I didn’t do anything.” The protest felt weak, even to me.
He hummed low, then pounced.
“What about when you told me you wanted me to bend you over a desk? Was that nothing?”
Heat rushed to my face. He had me, and he knew it.
“Maybe we quit,” I whispered.
His head snapped up. “No.”
The word came out so fast, too firm. “I’m not quitting,” he added. “I said I’d help you, and I will.”
I raised an eyebrow. “No sex. Okay?”
I didn’t mean it. I wanted to… so badly. My mouth said no, but my body said yes.
He looked at me, and in his gaze, there was his easy confidence, but underneath, something gentler, steadier. He wasn’t pushing me. He was letting me steer. But God, the way he looked at me made me want to drive off the cliff myself.
“We’ll be careful,” he said softly.
He wasn’t agreeing with me on the no sex.
His hand brushed mine on the table so faintly I could’ve imagined it. He gave me a smile then, not his crooked one. But a small, mischievous one that told me everything. He didn’t want to quit because he wanted me.
The waitress returned with our food, shattering the moment as if it were nothing. She placed our plates on the table.
Max leaned back in the booth, grinning like we were friends grabbing breakfast. This was so like him. One second, we were word fucking each other, and then the next, we were back to being besties.
I stole a strawberry from his plate and popped it into my mouth with a slow exaggeration.
He froze mid-bite. “Really?”
“Girlfriend perks,” I teased.
His grin deepened, but his eyes lingered. It made me squirm in my seat. He was loving this.
“So,” he said lightly, “what’s the plan for the rest of our fake, totally-not-complicated day?”
I rolled my eyes. “Tattoo. Public appearances. Make Jackson sweat.”
“Love that for us.” He clinked his fork against mine like a toast. “Alright, what’s step one?”
“Step one: act unbothered. Like you being all over me is just… normal.”
“Am I allowed to be all over you?” His grin was infuriating.
“Don’t be a dick,” I said dryly, ignoring the flip in my stomach.
“Too late. Okay, so hand on your back, whispers in your ear, grabbing your thighs, got it.”
I arched a brow. “You’ve thought this through.”
“I’ve had some ideas.” His gaze didn’t waver.
“And step two?” I asked.
“Don’t know yet. I say we see how fast Jackson cracks before we get there.”
I dragged a fingertip along my glass, leaning in. “And when he does?”
Max met my gaze head-on. “We blow it up.”
The silence that followed stretched taut between us, buzzing.
“You’re a convincing fake boyfriend,” I said finally, leaning back, trying to breathe again.
“Convincing?” His grin turned sharp. “I’m the best boyfriend you’ll ever have.”
I noted how he didn’t say “fake.”
My longing for him was overwhelming as we stepped out of the diner.
His truck rumbled to life, the radio a low hum beneath the tension.
“So,” Max said, clearing his throat. “What are you getting for your tattoo? A heart with my name in it?”
I snorted. “Please. I was thinking something meaningful. Subtle. Oh, I know. A middle finger. For you.” I lifted mine in demonstration.
He grinned. “Bold of you to think I wouldn’t find that fucking hot as hell.”
I rolled my eyes. “Right. Forgot, you’ve got a tattoo fetish.”
“Just on you,” he said too quickly, then backpedaled, eyes flicking between me and the road. “I mean, any girl with ink is hot in my book.”
I caught myself staring at his hand resting casually on the console. I wanted to hold it.
“Sabotage,” by Beastie Boys, filled the silence a moment too long before he asked, “Okay, seriously. What are you getting? And am I allowed to see it?”
“I’m still deciding.”
“Will I get to see it though?”
I paused. “You’ll have to undress me first, but yeah.”
I was joking, but now even my jokes were coming out flirtatiously.
His head turned, just enough for me to see his expression. Not playful. Not mocking. Just that steady, scorching look that said, stop fucking with me unless you mean it.
I met his gaze, and for a second, it felt like we were teetering on the edge of something we couldn’t undo.
I’d told him no sex because I was terrified of what it would do to us, of what it would do to me.
But the string between us was burning with our barely controlled longing for each other, and I was about to be scorched.
What would he do if I climbed over the console into his lap? Would he fight me off, or let me take control?
What would we do if we passed the line, more than we already had? Would we survive it? He was my best friend in the whole world. If I lost him, I wouldn’t ever be the same.
Max shook his head in disbelief, pulling us back from the brink.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this. I can’t wait to see what you pick.”
“I can’t believe it either,” I whispered, though my chest buzzed with something dangerously close to joy. For once, I felt like I wasn’t chained to my past. I was reaching for something new.
His eyes softened when they slid over me, lingering at the scar on the back of my neck.
“It’s going to look so pretty on you.”
He had to stop saying things like that, things that made me fall harder for him. The rush of air through the open windows wasn’t enough to cool the heat crawling over my skin.
His fingers immediately laced with mine. I wanted to fight it, this feeling, but I couldn’t. Because it felt exactly like it was meant to.
Maybe I didn’t need to keep running. As long as I was with him.