Chapter 21
Twenty-One
update your rules when necessary
Dylan
The inside of my skull is a mess. I know without a doubt what would’ve happened with Max earlier if my alarm hadn’t sounded.
But it’s the fact I wanted it to happen, consequences be damned, that I would’ve felt an unbearable relief if it had, that makes my mind spin.
I try to escape him by heading to the games room with Jude, Fiona and Greg, but my thoughts swirl in his orbit the whole time.
Memories of warm breath and rough sounds and strong hands diminish my puzzling skills significantly, and when Jude pokes me
in the arm and asks if I’m all right, I realise I’ve been attempting to slot a corner piece into the middle of our jigsaw
for the last twenty seconds.
‘We’re probably going to head back to ours before the rain starts,’ Fiona says after a while, and I glance at our finished
puzzle and feel like I’m resurfacing from being underwater. ‘Feel free to join, but I reckon we’ll just be catching up on
TV.’
‘There’s a new Louis Theroux,’ Greg adds, sweeping puzzle pieces into a box.
Their easy domesticity makes me ache a little, but for once, my desire for that doesn’t hold a candle to the other, more pressing feelings weighing heavy in my stomach. Who am I?
Jude gets to her feet. ‘I need to call my brother.’
‘Has rock climbing been cancelled?’ I ask, finally registering what they’ve said.
‘David mentioned it, remember?’ Fiona replies. ‘He said we’d try again another day when there’s less chance of rain.’
Disappointment weighs on me. My plans for the day have been swept away with the rain.
‘You seem a little distracted,’ Jude says, narrowing her eyes. ‘You’re usually the person coming to us with the info.’
I clear my throat and blink away thoughts of a dark-haired man who’s apparently taken up permanent residence in the lust centres
of my brain. But the puzzle pieces start coming together in my head, much better than my jigsaw attempts, and I realise I
need to be alone to think this through.
‘I need a nap,’ I say, getting to my feet too.
I’ve never taken a nap in my life, and Jude eyes me suspiciously but lets it slide.
Before long, I’m stepping into the cabin in my rain-patched jumper, hair damp and sticking to my cheeks after I found myself
in an intense, twenty-second rain shower on the walk back. Max is nowhere to be seen, and I pray the rain that’s softly pattering
on the roof will keep him at bay for the time being.
I feel itchy and hot, like I need to stand out in the drizzle and let it clear my head, but decide a shower’s a more comfortable
alternative. With steam clouding the bathroom and my mind, I consider my options. The world didn’t end when Max and I kissed.
It kept turning after what happened this morning, too. I could push the boundaries further, I think.
The epiphany strikes me in a rush. I’m going to take Max up on his offer. I want to try something casual, no relationship
attached. I said I wanted to do new things while I’m here, and I’m certain Max would be the best person to do these things
with. Someone who knows how to enjoy a moment and then cast it aside, with no expectation, no desire to turn it into anything more.
I trust him on this. Not just because he’d sooner die than be shackled to someone forever, but because of the quiet truths
he lets out sometimes. Secrets he usually keeps tight to his chest. If these pieces of me are safe with you, know that you can be safe with me too, they seem to say.
I’m going to do it tonight. I’ll style my hair and put on some makeup and find my prettiest underwear, and I’ll probably need to spend the rest of the
day practising being seductive, because it’s been a while and I’m not sure if I’ve got it in me, but then, at exactly the
right moment, I’ll be a big girl and ask him. It’ll be faultless, because I’ll make it so.
God, I love when a plan comes together.
As a reward, or maybe penance, I let my hand slip between my thighs, dizzy at the prospect of finally easing this unbearable
tension between us. But right as I start to work myself, the water suddenly runs cold, sending me scrambling out of its reach
with a yelp.
I hover as far from the spray as I can while I wait for it to warm up again. When it doesn’t, I wring the worst of the water
from my hair, before wrapping myself in a towel and opening the door to check out the boiler.
I notice many things in sequence, and I perceive each of them in perfect clarity.
First, I notice that Max is back.
Second, I register that he’s sprawled on the sofa, head back, the long line of his neck exposed, lips slightly parted as—
Third, his fist determinedly moves between his legs, grey sweatpants halfway down his thighs.
He turns his head and our eyes meet, a brief moment of bewilderment in his, mixed with something heavy, and I whirl back into
the bathroom.
‘Dylan,’ he calls after me, and it sounds a little like he’s trying not to laugh.
‘Sorry,’ I reply, turning off the freezing shower and facing the tiles, heart racing.
‘You surprised me,’ he says, voice coming closer until it stops just outside the bathroom.
I swallow and watch a droplet move down the grout. ‘Clearly.’
‘Sorry you saw that. In my defence, you’re a woman of habit. Usually I can rely on you being in there for longer,’ he says,
and it dawns on me that he’s done this before. That maybe he’s counted down the seconds until I get into the shower, desperate for those few minutes to sate the hunger,
to recalibrate himself, to tide him over. That maybe touching himself while knowing I’m on the other side of the wall has
made it better, and worse, somehow, the way it has for me, too.
‘Why did you run out, anyway?’ he asks,
My stomach flutters. ‘I—the hot water. It turned off. I didn’t know you were back, and then you were–you know. Busy.’
‘Busy,’ he repeats. ‘Can you come out here so I can look at your face and know I haven’t traumatised you?’
I gingerly walk back to the living area. He’s standing between me and the sofa, a hand loosely flexing at his side as his
eyes run up my towel-clad body. The bad weather’s sent the cabin into shadow, but the light’s not so low that I don’t see
how desire saturates his face.
‘See?’ I say, though I feel heat rising up my chest at the sight of him. My insides are a tangled knot, and the moment Max
tugs, I know I’ll unravel. ‘Not traumatised. Exploring yourself is very normal.’
‘I’m aware. Tiny—’
‘Not the first time I’ve come across a penis.’ I do finger guns. Why?
‘Yeah, but can we—’
‘Not even the first time I’ve come across your penis—’
‘Dylan—’
‘I wasn’t intending to do this now, but you’ve given me no other choice.’ His expression is faintly amused, and then my words
spill out in a rush. ‘I’ve been thinking a lot about your proposition and I’ve decided to take you up on it, because evidently
we aren’t going to be able to live together for much longer without one or both of us imploding–which is very unlike me because usually I’m an extremely focused person–and I want to try new things while I’m here anyway, and since you’re good at compartmentalising and even better at having fun, I think that makes you the ideal person to try a casual thing with before I go home and continue with my whole finding-a-husband-and-settling-down thing. ’
I catch my breath after spewing the world’s longest run-on sentence, and the silence is punctuated by rain hitting our windows
and pounding on the roof.
‘I mean, if you’re still interested,’ I add, as thunder rumbles through the cabin.
‘I haven’t stopped being interested,’ he says slowly, like his brain is finally catching up to what I said. ‘I thought that was obvious.’
‘Good.’
‘Good.’ The side of his mouth pulls up, and we just watch each other, the rain increasing in fervour. ‘Just so you’re aware,
“Let’s fuck, Max” would’ve also worked.’
‘I wanted to provide context so that you could make an informed decision.’
‘Naturally.’ He watches me, a heat behind his eyes catching alight from glowing embers, and slowly, his face shifts. Arrogance
in the lift of his brows, in the sly set of his mouth. ‘So this is it? I’m something to strike off your list?’
‘Would you be offended if I said yes?’
‘Not at all,’ he says with a soft laugh, then steps back and drops on to the arm of the sofa, arms folded, the picture of
ease. And, fine, I’m not exactly known for my frequent sexual escapades, but I have to say, there’s never usually this much
looking. But Max sits there as rain drums on the roof, his body perfectly still, but his eyes all over me, in a hundred places at
once.
I move nearer and his legs widen as if by instinct, granting me the perfect space to stand.
Water still falls from my hair, and his eyes follow one droplet’s trail down my chest, until it disappears behind the towel,
between my breasts. When he lifts his chin to look up at me, his irises have been swallowed by his pupils.
‘Are you really sure about this?’ he asks evenly.
His legs tighten around my hips and every cell in my body rejoices. Finally! they scream. But outwardly, I just lower my mouth to his and say, ‘I’m sure.’
He surrenders to the kiss for a few moments, slow and steady, but then he pulls back, speaking into the inch of air between
our mouths. ‘I think it’s time to make some more rules, Dylan,’ he says. My stomach blooms with heat at the suggestion.
‘Sounds sensible,’ I reply, closing my eyes as he presses his lips to the juncture of my neck and shoulder.
‘Number one,’ his teeth graze my sensitive skin, ‘if you stop being sure at any point, you tell me. Everything is in your
hands. Okay?’
‘Okay.’ I tug his hair and he releases a groan that goes straight between my legs. ‘Number two. I want this to stay between
us.’
He hums in agreement against my skin, mouth gliding along my shoulders and up my neck, tongue collecting the water droplets
that remain. ‘Three. You have to ask for what you want. And when you inevitably aren’t forthcoming,’ he gently sucks on my