Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
IRIS
Grabbing my bag from the overhead bin, I wait for my turn to exit the plane. Unsurprisingly, the line in front of me is moving slowly. A couple argues next to me.
“I can’t believe you were texting him when I was right next to you,” the guy mutters.
“It’s not like that,” she whispers.
“Bullshit,” he hisses.
“Not here. We can talk about this when we get home,” she tells him harshly.
Damn, it looks like they didn’t have a good trip, but then again, play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
I make my way to the front of the plane, leaving the arguing couple behind.
“Thank you,” I tell the flight attendants as I pass by and exit the plane.
Weaving through all the people, I make my way through customs and then to baggage claim. I can’t help but wince when I get all my bags back. Shit, I never thought this through. I hate manhandling three bags through crowds.
As soon as I step out of the restricted area, I hear a chuckle that sounds all too familiar. I look up in surprise to find Max waiting. “What are you doing here?”
When I reach him, he gives me a quick hug and kisses the top of my head. When he pulls back, I have to stop myself from stepping back into his arms.
That would be creepy, Iris.
“I’m here for you. I figured I could give you a ride home.” He shrugs as he takes two of my suitcases. “I knew you would struggle with all the luggage you always lug around.”
“Thanks, and I would appreciate that,” I tell him, loving that he knows me so well.
There is a familiarity in it. No one knows me the way he does. I don’t think anyone knows him the way I do either.
“So did you enjoy the few days to yourself?” he asks as we start making our way toward the outside.
“You know what? I did,” I tell him.
“What all did you do?”
I open my mouth to tell him about the interview but then remember he doesn’t know about it.
“Ate too much food. Watched a play. Slept. The usual,” I tell him.
It’s true, but it’s not the full truth.
Guilt eats at me, but I keep my mouth shut.
“Did I miss anything?” I ask.
“Nothing important,” he says. “I went back to Boston and saw the guys, so I guess I took a page from your book and took a few days off.”
Before I can ask anything else, I hear someone yell my name.
“Iris!”
I scan the crowd and stop when I see him standing there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. A smile fills my face.
“Clint, what are you doing here?” I ask, in surprise.
He smiles as he jogs toward us. When he reaches me, he pulls me into a hug and kisses my cheek.
“You gave me your flight number and told me you were planning on grabbing a ride share home. I thought I would surprise you and take you myself.” His eyes drift to Max. “Maybe I shouldn’t have though…”
“No, no, no. I appreciate it. Actually it’s extremely thoughtful,” I tell him.
Clint is such a good guy. I never actually asked why he and his girl didn’t make it. I have to assume something is wrong with her because he is a catch.
He’s not Max, though.
Max.
I feel the annoyance pulsing off of the man in question standing next to me.
“Oh shit, let me introduce you two. Max, this is Clint, I’ve been seeing him when we are home. Clint, this is my best friend and boss, Max.”
Recognition crosses Clint’s face. Clint reaches out to shake Max’s hand and stops when he remembers he’s holding a bouquet of flowers.
“Shit, I’m screwing this up. These are for you.” He hands them to me and then holds his hand out for Max.
For a moment, Max hesitates to shake his hand, and it makes my stomach drop.
Please don’t do this.
Please, please, please, I silently plead.
Max takes a deep breath and shakes his hand, making me relax.
“It’s great to meet you. I believe I saw you with Iris the night we met.” Clint tells him.
“Yeah. At the bar, right? I didn’t realize you could still pick up dates there,” Max mutters.
Internally I cringe when he jerks his hand back and shoves it in his pocket.
“Thank you for the flowers,” I blurt out.
I bring them up to my nose and smell them. They might be ugly, but at least they smell good.
It’s the thought that counts. Clint doesn’t know that I hate yellow flowers. He was just trying to do something sweet.
Clint smiles and turns back to me. “You’re welcome. So would you like that ride?”
“I’m her ride,” Max says heatedly, catching me off guard.
What in the fuck? What the hell has gotten into him? If I didn’t know better, I would say he sounds possessive.
“Oh,” Clint says, sounding rejected.
“Actually, Clint, I would love for you to take me home. Maybe we could stop for lunch along the way and catch up?” I ask.
Clint lights up. “That’s a great idea.”
“Good.” I smile. I turn to Max. “Would you mind taking my bags home for me?”
“Home?” Clint asks, sounding confused.
“We live in the same building,” I tell him without looking away from Max.
Max’s jaw clenches. “Are you sure about this?”
“I’m positive,” I tell him quietly.
Max nods and takes all of my bags from me, with the exception of my purse, and walks away without saying another word.
Fuck. He’s mad. Why is this so hard?
Sighing, I shut my eyes. God, how freaking embarrassing.
“Sorry about him,” I tell Clint.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. Now come on, let’s get you some food.” He reaches out and takes my hand in his.
We leave the airport and head to a little diner that’s not far from either of our places.
“So…” He trails off after we get our food.
“So…”
“Is that the guy?” he asks as he takes a bite of hash browns.
“Who?” I pretend I don’t know what he means.
“The one you are hung up on. The one you said wasn’t interested,” he says bluntly.
We didn’t exchange much information about our mutual unrequited love, but I did tell him that much.
“It is,” I admit, taking a small bite of my own food.
Clint whistles under his breath. “And you really think that guy isn’t interested in you?”
“He’s not,” I say vehemently.
“Babe, he wanted to kick my ass. The last thing he wanted was for you to leave with me. He wanted to take you home himself.”
“He was just being protective. It’s like a big brother act. That’s all. Trust me, it’s not like that between us,” I tell him, but I’m starting to question it myself. Max has never acted like that before.
“Are you sure?” he probes.
“I’m positive. It’s been like this between us for years, and it’s not going to change now. I told him I was dating, and he never once spoke up.”
Clint studies me for a minute before he nods. “Okay, I believe you. We can drop that subject. How about you tell me all about London? How was it?”
I relax at the change of subject. “Glorious.”
We fall into idle chit-chat, catching up, but the entire time I’m with him, I can’t help but wonder if he’s right.
Was Max really jealous? Did he really want to kick Clint’s ass?
This entire time I’ve thought that Max was the one who was missing my subtle hints that I wanted him, but maybe, just maybe, I was missing his.
MAX
Days.
It’s been days since that asshole picked Iris up and took her away from me, and I’m still pissed about it. Everything feels out of control. She’s dating, keeping secrets, and pulling away.
I fucking hate it.
I’m pissed. I’m so fucking pissed that this is all happening.
To make matters worse, I had to fly to Las Vegas by myself because she had to stay back in the city to catch up on the budget shit she pushed off to stay in London. I should have never given her the time off.
I’m acting like a petulant toddler, and I know it, but fuck if I don’t hate the fact that she isn’t with me right now.
I hate traveling without her. She helps me deal with the itching sensation under my skin.
She sits on the aisle so I don’t have to be brushed by some stranger.
If she were here, I wouldn’t have had to deal with the chatty woman in business class who was in the seat meant for Iris.
I also wouldn’t have had to deal with the flirty hotel receptionist who made sure to insinuate that she would be available for all of my needs.
Not only is it all of that, but now there is an added layer. She is dating someone serious. Serious enough that he had her flight information. Sure, he bought the wrong flowers, but they are getting more intimate.
With her being thousands of miles away, my mind is replaying the same questions.
Is she with him? How serious is it? Do they kiss? Have they had sex? Is she watching our shows with him now? Has she replaced me with him?
Jealousy is a living, breathing thing inside of me right now, and I hate myself for it. It’s all becoming too much, and I feel like I’m starting to come out of my skin. I don’t know how much more I can take.
I’m tapping a pen on the hotel desk as I think about Iris when my cell phone rings on top of the charging plate.
“Yeah?” I snap.
“Uh, is this Mr. Maximilian Williamson?” a man on the other end asks.
“Depends on who’s asking,” I grumble, knowing I’m being an ass.
“This is Rick from the Astor Conglomerate. I’m calling regarding the employment of Iris Howard.”
Him asking about my girl makes my skin crawl with dread.
“What about Iris?” I ask gruffly.
“Well, she recently interviewed with our company, and while she has not accepted the position yet, I have been asked to go ahead and get her hiring paperwork sorted.”
The words have me frozen. She interviewed with our competitor. The one who has an office in London.
Is that why she stayed? Why she seemed like she was keeping something from me?
She wasn’t dating. She was looking for a new job.
My jaw clenches.
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” I ask.
“Iris Howard. She interviewed for our London location recently for the position of liaison between hotels and guests. We put you down as her current employer and as a reference. I have sent documentation over to your human resources department to confirm her employment information but wanted to know if you would be willing to provide a reference.”
I feel like I can feel my heart beating in my head.