Chapter 26 Ice bath #2
"Tell him what?" He laughs with derision. "That our mother was beating us up? Do you have any idea what admitting something like that to Luca Butcher would be like?"
I glance at the floor. "But he loves you."
He lifts my chin. "He does, but he doesn't like weakness."
I feel pin-prickles behind my eyes, beckoning tears to fall. "You were just children."
Looking away from me, his eyes distant, he says, "Butch asked what happened once. So I told him I'd been in a fight at school. He wanted to know what the other kid looked like. I told him unconscious." Max smiles, but it lacks warmth. "He was proud. That's the look I'd wanted from him."
Rising onto my tippy toes, I kiss him softly as a single tear forces its way from the corner of my eye. He has offered me something personal and I never want to take his words for granted as they are rare and hard-earned. "Thank you for sharing that with me."
He points at my half-packed bag, signalling that the conversation is over.
I stare at his tempest grey eyes, wanting to tell him all the things in my heart, but in the end, I just lean up and kiss his lips again.
He frowns at me, but he's not mad. I smile at him, hoping he can see in my eyes all the things I want to say.
"Finish packing," he orders.
I laugh a little. "Yes, Max."
With my bags ready to go, we wander to his car. I climb inside and he leans across me to buckle me in. Then we head for Connolly. He concentrates on the traffic. I listen to the music and relax. His big warm hand rests on my thigh and my heart is so full of him, I struggle to feel anything else.
Connolly is about half an hour from Brussman, but they're both a part of the District.
Max's town was established first and is hard to buy into.
The premier families of Western Australia—the Storms, the Butchers, and most of the other old school District families, all live there.
Slater is an original District family name, but we never had enough money to buy into Connolly.
We do now, though. But we like Brussman.
I turn the music down and twist in my seat to face Max. "How did you get my dad to agree to this?"
He smiles, an arrogant and gorgeous curve to his lips. "Your dad likes me."
"Whatever." I blink at him. "He didn't seem to like you last time."
"That's because you were discussing things you shouldn’t and he knew it."
"You think he likes you? The man stealing his baby girl away."
"Can't explain it myself. I'd have shot me.
" Max's hand shifts on the wheel and I notice a new tattoo on his finger.
It's the date of the wedding, I think, in cursive writing.
It reminds me of the detailed family tree on both Bronson's and Max's backs.
I imagine Aurora Butcher will be added to that soon.
I grin at him. "Does your car have a name?"
He laughs without restraint. It's such a beautiful sound. "No."
"I have a pink Lexus, so my car's name is Lady. Ya know, like Lady Lexus... " I feel my cheeks heat. "You think I'm weird."
"You are."
I smile at him as he tries not to smile. "Can I name your car?"
He chuckles, shaking his head as if he has no choice. "If you have to."
"Hmm." I click my tongue in contemplation as I peer around for inspiration. It's spacious and dark inside. It's masculine and clean. Digital displays glow red and yellow and green. "Range Rover... Hmm. Oh, my gawd! It has to be Romeo, Romeo Range Rover."
He cringes. "Fuck, Cassidy, that's the worst fucking name."
"No. Romeo is the most famous male ballet character in the world! Yes, it has to be Romeo."
"I'm not referring to my car as Romeo."
"That's fine." I giggle. "I will though."
He glances at me sideways and grins, his dimple showing. "The shit I let you get away with."
Leaning across the centre console, I lightly poke his dimple and then relax into a sigh. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."
It's nearly ten p.m. when we roll onto his driveway and I get my first glimpse of Casa Butcher.
Most of the houses in Connolly have boom gates at the entrance, but the Butcher's three-story mansion is obnoxiously close to the road, almost daring people to invade their privacy.
Streetlamps light the house up on all sides.
It's fully rendered in white and has steep, sharp walls and a modernist look with clean lines and simple shapes. It's a new build on an old block.
The garage door rises, and we pull in alongside five other vehicles.
I blink at Max, a proud smile tugging at my lips. "Did you design this house, Max?"
He pulls up the handbrake. "Yes."
"It's beautiful." I gaze at him for a moment as he twists the keys from the ignition. In my mind I say, 'You're beautiful.'
Max helps me out of the car. I wobble slightly on my bad ankle and his eyes drop to watch me quietly coddling it.
"I'm fine," I say. Ignoring my assurance, he swoops me up and I automatically wrap my arms around his neck. He stares straight ahead, his expression intense.
"I can walk," I press.
"There are three flights of stairs, Little One."
We enter from behind the kitchen. He carries me through the dining room and toward the foyer.
My eyes widen when I see two guards at his front door. Embarrassed I'm being carried like an invalid, I hide my face in Max's shoulder.
"This is Cassidy," Max says, so I turn to acknowledge them with a sheepish smile.
One of them smiles politely at me before looking at Max. "Xander's not home yet."
"Hmm." Max stops at the bottom of the stairs. "Is Carter watching him?"
"Yes," the man says with a quick nod.
"Good." Max carries me up the staircase to the second floor and then the third.
As we continue through the house, I notice that the fixed décor is always black, white, and beautiful redwood. It's simple and masculine and Max.
I look out through the vast windows and over the top of rooves, spotting the moon glowing large just above the skyline.
I count the doors as we pass by them in the hallway.
Five. We bump into Bronson, shirtless, wearing only boxers with a toothbrush hanging from his mouth.
His eyes light up when they meet mine and he fist pumps the air as if re-enacting the closing scene from The Breakfast Club.
I run hot. "Stop it, Bronson."
"I can't help it." He saunters off down the hallway towards one of the other doors.
I look at Max, who sighs, seemingly exasperated by his brother. "Why is he so excited?" I ask.
Max shakes his head. "I've never had a girl here before."
My jaw drops open. Then I curl my lips together to stop from smiling and tense my body to stop from jigging. "Never?"
"No." He shrugs. "Why would I bring a girl back here?"
"Ah, to hang out with her?"
"Yeah. Why would I want to do that? I fuck them at their house so I can leave."
"Max, that's horrible."
"Don't act surprised," he exhales as he walks me into his room. He lowers my feet to the ground and kicks the door shut. "I did the same to you once."
My mind drifts to the first time he came to my house. He'd disappeared out the window. The second time, he'd tried to ditch me after we'd dressed, but I'd shamelessly begged him to stay. Now though, I'm shuffling nervously in his hotel-style room on sacred ground no other girl has touched.
My eyes bounce around his personal space. "So this is where the Max Butcher sleeps." I giggle nervously.
Stop being nervous.
It's Max.
My Max.
His room is neat and mature, with sweeping windows that display Connolly from above.
There's a rack of dumbbells in one corner and a boxing bag hanging from the ceiling beside it.
A sixty-inch wall-mounted television is hooked up to a PlayStation and an Xbox.
The walls are exposed brick, which adds an extra level of masculinity to the space. I like it.
After hobbling over to his large bed, I slowly pivot to face him.
I rise onto my toes, scooting backwards along the mattress.
As I flex my fingers over the soft black sheets, my breathing labours.
Max is staring at me from across the room.
My pulse kicks up a notch at the sight of his heated glare.
It's serious and menacing. The phrase, 'I do like to chase and eat little animals' comes to mind.
I press my knees together. "So you've never had sex in this bed?"
He smirks. "I'm about to."