17. Max
SEVENTEEN
MAX
“Are you still staring at your phone? When I left to take a shit, you were staring at it. Now I’m back and you’re still staring at it,” Sean berates, trying to lean in and swipe the device from my hand.
“You’re either pussy-whipped or staring at tits.
Is it someone’s tits? Lemme see,” he tries again, and my hackles rise.
Normally I brush off all their macho-bullshit—being in construction, you get used to all the testosterone and lewd conversations—but the need to sink my fist into his face has my teeth grinding.
“Shut the fuck up. Don’t say that shit,” I grit out, my fingers clenching tight enough around my phone that it creaks audibly.
The twat tips his head back and laughs loudly. The sound does nothing to calm my raised hackles.
“Ooh, looky here, boys. Maxi has a girl. That’s definitely what someone who’s pussy-whipped would say.
Must be a gold-dipped cunt to have you staring all doe-eyed waiting for her to message you.
” His face is smug as he leans back in his chair, throwing a chip into his mouth and chewing like a fucking animal.
I try to brush off his words, but the comment about waiting for her to message stings, because fuck, that is what I’m doing.
Rosy left me on read.
For four bullshitty hours. I get that she’s working, but apparently, I’m needy and can’t wait that long.
Exhaling deeply through my nose, I remind myself that I can’t smash the fucker’s face, no matter how much I want to. I need this job and future ones too, so I can’t risk getting a reputation. Grabbing the empty plate from my lunch, I stand up.
“I can see why women think you’re such a catch and are flocking you everywhere you go…” I say, then glance around. “Oh, wait, there aren’t any.”
I deserve a reward for the patience it takes to walk away. Maybe Rosy will give me a kiss, or I’d even take a response.
Disposing of the food scraps in the bin, I slide the empty plate onto the stack of dirty ones and leave the canteen.
I pluck the hard hat from my head and scrub a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends in frustration.
Before I can shove it back on, a chime sounds from my pocket, and I’m startled enough that it takes a second to juggle the hat to avoid it falling.
Gripping the phone tightly, I swipe and unlock it, immediately opening the message.
Rosy
I’m sorry for only just replying. Work has been hectic :( Hope you had a good morning too. Also veto little chimp. Where do you even come up with all these nicknames?
Fuck, I’m grinning so wide my face hurts. She’s too stupidly cute. Without hesitation, I press the call button and hold it up to my ear, listening to the dialling tone.
“Hey,” she answers in a sexy, breathless tone, and I don’t realise I’m holding mine until I exhale in a rush. I wonder if she would be opposed to recording it for me, so I can have it as my morning alarm.
“Hey, honeybee, what are you wearing at that secretary desk job of yours?” I ask in a low, husky voice.
Giggles peal out down the phone. “Max,” she admonishes. “My job is not like that. I’m wearing very boring office clothes. It’s actually depressing.”
I can hear her pout from here, and I can imagine how much she must hate it when she usually wears all the colours and quirky shit. It shouldn’t work, but on her it does.
“So we haven’t vetoed ‘honeybee’, that’s good to know. I bet you look hot still. Do you wear glasses too?” I groan, picturing her in a figure-hugging skirt, with a skin-tight shirt, and a pair of dark-rimmed frames.
“You're incorrigible and way too inappropriate. No to honeybee, and no to the glasses.”
How is bantering with her like this so easy? Shit, she makes life fun.
“Okay, what about tights? Please tell me you’re wearing those, because you might ruin my fantasy right now if you say no.” That’s a lie. I’ve fantasised about her in every outfit I’ve seen her in. Apparently, it’s the woman inside the clothes that gets me going.
“Max! Get your arse up here. The team is waiting for you,” my site manager hollers.
The urge to stamp my feet and demand one more minute has a flashback to childhood hitting me. I should probably try to grow up, but Rosy seems to like me how I am.
I grimace and sigh. “Ro-Ro, I have to go; work calls. Make sure you spend the day thinking of me.”
Just as she says her goodbyes, and I’m about to hang up, she adds, “Oh, and, Max? I am wearing tights today.”
The call cuts out, and I’m left staring at my phone for a hot minute. Another shout has me sliding it back into my pocket and walking into the shell of a building with a heavy boner, but feeling lighter than I did before hearing from her.
Does a job exist where I don’t actually have to work? Maybe one where I can eat snacks all day and get paid for it. Or maybe Rosy needs an assistant. I could be at her beck and call all day.
I clatter through the front door and drop my keys onto the table, forgetting to hang them up with the others. Who even remembers what they do with keys anyway?
Flicking off my boots, I head into the living room and sprawl across the sofa, flopping my arm across my eyes.
“Long day?”
Dragging my arm away, I turn and see Noah sitting casually in his favourite armchair, a book open in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. His attention, however, is on me and not on the pages.
My face scrunches. “Not any more than usual; just tired of the macho, sexist bullshit.”
I thought it would quit after I called Sean out at lunch, but I could hear him making comments to the others the rest of the day, nothing directed at me, though.
He was just loud and obvious enough that he wanted me to hear—a shit attempt to rile me up.
Every misogynistic word that came out of his mouth felt like a dig at Rosy, like he was directing all his filth towards her without having to say her name.
Noah cocks his head. “Mm…okay, but that’s nothing unexpected, sadly, but it doesn’t usually bother you this much,” he states.
He’s right. Fuck if I know why it feels different this time.
“Maybe I was hangry, or I just need to get laid.” I grin, leaning back and tucking my hands under my head. Both are probably true, but a certain woman seems to be taking up all my thoughts recently.
He tsks and raises a brow. “Charming, Max. People might start to think you only know how to fuck and eat.”
“They already do,” Nate butts in, appearing from the hallway leading off to the bedrooms. Judging by the smell of him, he’s freshly showered from the gym. Man needs to get another hobby; it’s always work and working out with him.
It’s just so…serious.
Maybe I should sign him up to some samba dancing or some shit. As someone who loves him, I want him to widen his interests.
A snort shoots through my nose as I try to picture his brawny frame trying to undulate across the dance floor. As his words filter through, I frown at the jerk.
“Excuse me. I’ll have you know, I have plenty of talents outside of fucking and eating. I just so happen to be very good at the two of those.”
“Dinner’s ready,” Bry calls, stopping any further bickering.
Shame, as I love it.
I wonder if Rosy likes to be riled up too. Would it make her face all flushed and angry? I bet she would look all cute, like a puffed-up kitten.
Clambering to my feet, I shove Nate back down when he attempts to stand up, cackling as I race into the kitchen. “Me first!”
“You know there’s a plate for everyone, right? It’s why we avoid doing sharing platters. You can’t share properly.” Bry rolls his eyes, laughing, but I know means he loves me, really.
Indignantly, I huff. “I shared just fine when we had Rosy over.”
Grabbing a plate, I remove the top from my burger and grab the mustard, slapping a liberal amount on the top, before adding chilli sauce to the bottom bun. More is always better.
“Yeah, that is the only time you can seem to share. Nice to see you have some sort of chivalry underneath your inner child,” he replies, bumping his shoulder into mine affectionately as he walks past and sits on one of the sofas, a plate of food on his lap.
“Rosy’s coming round tomorrow for dinner, isn’t she? What have you decided to make?” Noah enquires, sitting back into his chair with a plate.
“Mm,” he agrees around a mouthful of his burger. “I’ve been messaging about some ideas, and we settled on Indian. She liked the idea of a curry.”
“You’ve been messaging?” Nate questions. His face is all pinched and screwed up.
Surely, he knew we would be talking to her, since we gave her our numbers too. The pouty expression on his face has me thinking he didn’t.
“We chatted today too.” Should I be poking the bear? Probably not, but he does make it so easy.
Stuffing a few chips into my mouth, I smile at the scowl he throws my way, “Best friends talk. A lot. Like all the time,” I trail off, enjoying imagining the steam curling around him with every exhale he makes.
Are his nostrils…flaring? Oh, they totally are.
Cackles erupt from me. Honestly, he really does make it too easy to push all those buttons.
“Maxi,” Noah scolds, ever the patient parent. But I know he would’ve talked to her too, so I’m not really wrong. Okay, perhaps I don’t need to poke bears.
Huffing loudly, I roll my eyes. “I’m sorry for pressing your very tempting, big red button,” I say to Nate, watching as the vein in his head starts to pulse. Thick lines crease his brow as his gaze fixates on the whites of his knuckles.
Bry throws a chip at me. I duck, so it sails past and slaps Nate in the face, then lands on his plate.
His shoulders drop from around his ears, and the tension in him deflates. Crisis averted. Since meeting Rosy, it definitely seems to have him on edge more than we’re used to.
Interesting. It seems the bear has taken a liking to her.
In that moment, I can’t help but feel concern for the man who’s been there for me through some of the hardest times in my life. To him, it’s very black and white, and he can’t see outside of his own obsessive need to have something for himself.
I can see the appeal. Rosy has a way of making you feel centred, a safe place to land…like every moment in your life has led up to this, to her, and the idea of it being snatched away once you’ve felt her warmth caress you is enough to make a man feel feral.
Nope, that’s definitely not me. Shifting uneasily in my seat, I veer away from the deep dive my thoughts were about to take.
His reaction kind of makes sense, though. Whilst I avoid relationships with women due to my ex blindsiding me, he avoids them because of his soul-sucking snake of a mother.
She’s what you’d call a narcissistic, emotional manipulator…or a toxic bitch.
It makes you wonder if any of us would be able to function in a stable relationship…
Well, perhaps Noah, but I think he would miss us all too much if we had to all go our separate ways for someone.
Thank fuck we’re all happy to just continue like we have done, just the four of us.