Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
IRIS
Work was brutal today.
Max was all distant and taking meetings that he didn’t want me in on. If that wasn’t weird enough, I saw him call in all of the department heads one by one. I asked Chad about it, but he said that he wasn’t at liberty to discuss it.
Whatever Max is doing, he is being shady about it.
To add to my poor mood, my period hit. My insides feel like they are waging a civil war inside of me. It has my skin feeling all tingly as if it isn’t even mine.
“Are you sure you are okay? You sound off,” Clint says through the phone as I walk up to my building.
I offer a pitiful smile to Bernard before I walk inside.
“Shitty day is all. I’ll be fine. So you are going out with Tris again?” I prompt him.
“Yeah. She was a sweet girl, like you said. I don’t see forever with her, but she admitted she will be moving to California after she graduates NYU, so it gives us an end date.”
I use my fob to press the button to my floor. “How long is that exactly?” I ask.
“Six months. Give or take,” he admits.
“Wow. A long time to date her. You sure you won’t catch feelings?”
He laughs. “She is six years younger than me. We don’t have a whole lot in common other than wanting companionship. I think we will be just fine.”
“I hope you are right,” I tell him as I get off the elevator and key in the code to my door.
As soon as I step inside, the smell of pizza hits me. I follow my nose to my kitchen and find Max standing there making a salad.
“I have to go. I’ll talk to you later,” I tell Clint.
“Of course. Go relax. Bye.”
I hang up the phone and stare at the man before me. “What are you doing here?” I ask.
He smiles. “It’s day one, isn’t it? I mean, you fluctuate sometimes, but I could see the raging bitch on your face today. No offense, of course. I figured you needed comfort.”
I look around and take in the rest of the kitchen. Not only did he make me homemade pizza with pesto sauce like I love, but he also bought me the biggest chocolate cake I have ever seen. Like seriously, it looks like a cake meant for a party or something.
“Wow. I had no idea you even paid attention.”
He walks over to me, cupping my cheek. “I always pay attention to you. Now go lie on the couch. I will bring you everything. You get to choose what we watch.”
I smile as he turns me and gently pushes me toward the living room.
I make a minor detour into the bathroom to clean myself up a bit and change into my oversized hoodie and sweats before I make my way back to the living room.
There, I find him plumping the pillows as he readjusts the heating pad so I can lie on it.
“Why are you doing all of this?” I blurt out.
He has always done little things for me when I’m on my period, but this is grand gesture level. It has me wondering what has gotten into him.
“I wanted to take care of you. Is that wrong?” he asks, looking nervous.
I shake my head, moving to the couch. I take my spot on the heating pad as he covers me in blankets. I know I will be sweating in about ten minutes, but it feels nice to be in a cocoon.
“I’ll bring you food.”
He hands me the remote before leaving the room. I smile as I flip through, not really caring what we watch. I settle on Drive to Survive, my favorite comfort show. It doesn’t matter how many times I have seen it, the sound of the cars zooming by does something to my nerves. It is peaceful to me.
When he comes back, he doesn’t say a word. He only hands me a plate and a glass of what looks to be a smoothie before disappearing.
When he comes back with his own plate and settles at the end of the couch, I look over at him.
“Why a smoothie?” I ask.
“Fruit has natural properties that help relieve cramps. It’s not a magic cure-all, but any little bit helps. After you eat, you can take the Midol I bought you too.”
My mouth drops open. He really considered all of this. It still has me wondering, why now?
I don’t ask, though. Instead, I take a bite of my pizza, moaning at how good it tastes. The pizza here in New York is good, but nothing beats a homemade pizza.
“Thank you,” I tell him as I chew.
“Anything for you. Now explain to me again about these race cars. Do we like this Max guy? He shares my name, so I want to like him. Or is it Daniel?”
I smile as I look at the screen. Max knows all about Formula One. He has even taken me to a few races for my birthday. So he isn’t being a dick by pretending not to know.
No.
He is allowing me to get my mind off my pain by gushing about one of my favorite things.
“Danny is my favorite, but he doesn’t race anymore. Now I like Lando or Max,” I tell him.
“Which one is the world champion again?”
That’s all it takes. A couple of questions has me relaxing as I eat my pizza and tell him all about the last year in the sport while the 2019 season plays on the screen. I tell him all the rumors and what has been confirmed. All about the WAGS and what they do.
Long after we finish the pizza and cake, I am still talking about all the little facts I know.
“If you devoted this much into hockey, I would have to worry Brantley would steal you,” Max admits.
“I could never work for him.” I scoff.
“You wouldn’t leave me, though. Would you?”
His question has me sobering up.
I have considered it. I should tell him that, but looking over, I see a vulnerability in his eye.
So I do something I hate more than anything. I tell a little white lie.
“Nope. You’re stuck with me.”
MAX
I don’t know if she just lied to me or if she has made up her decision and isn’t leaving after all.
I want to ask her. I even open my mouth to do so, but then she moves. She rearranges on the couch until her head is on my thigh.
All thoughts flee my head at the action.
I want this so badly. For this to be an everyday thing.
I run my hand through her hair as she focuses back on the television. I won’t lie, I have never paid much attention to Formula One. So while I knew some of the things she was telling me, I never soaked the information in. It never mattered.
Now everything she says matters to me. It could be as simple as her displeasure for the subway being late and I am soaking it in.
It’s funny how your mind changes. I went from pushing everything about Iris into a neat little filing cabinet in the back of my head to it exploding all over the place in my mind.
These days, there isn’t a thought I have that isn’t somehow touched by Iris. She is burrowed so far under my skin that no matter how hard I try, I could never extract her. Not that I want to. I love having her so close.
“Hey Max?” she mumbles, sounding a little sleepy.
“Yeah?”
“What were all those meetings for today?” she asks.
I knew she noticed. She is too smart not to. Chad also told me she asked him about it. He probably made it seem worse than it was by not saying a word.
I am not ready to reveal the secret yet, though. Not until I know it is firmly in place.
“I’m doing a survey of the employees. I want to know what we could be doing better,” I tell her.
“Oh. That’s actually really nice. I have some ideas on that if you want to hear them.” Her voice is even sleepier this time.
“I would love to hear them, but not tonight. No work on the couch, remember? Besides, you don’t feel good. This all can wait.”
“I don’t want to go to work tomorrow,” she grumbles.
“Then don’t. Take the day. I’ll cover your meetings,” I tell her.
“I can’t make you do that. I’m a woman, but that doesn’t mean I get to use this as an excuse to get out of work.” She nestles closer to my leg.
“No, but we offer sick days for a reason. You are feeling ill. So stay home. The office will be fine without you. I would rather you rest up. Besides, you chewed off a few heads today. I think the office will be grateful you aren’t there for a day or two.”
She groans. “I really try not to let my hormones get to me, but it’s so hard. I can feel myself losing it, but there isn’t much I can do. I need to apologize.”
“Nope. Absolutely not. You weren’t unprofessional. Only a little more stern than normal. They will be fine. Don’t you dare apologize.”
She lets out a huff before sighing.
I don’t know how she does it. She balances herself out so wonderfully. Even when she is PMSing, she somehow manages to keep herself from fully losing it. It is a miracle, really. I’m beyond impressed with her.
I meant what I said too. These employees need a little wake-up call every now and then.
I know they all respect Iris. She is a fair person.
They will take today as a warning to keep them on their toes.
They won’t think any less of her. They will internalize it and work on what made her go off in the first place.
“God, my cramps are killing me,” she murmurs as she tosses and turns on the couch.
“Flip onto your stomach,” I tell her.
“What? Why?” she asks.
“I read that a lower back massage can help cramps. Let me try.”
She is reluctant but eventually turns over. I move to the side next to her waist on the sliver of couch available. Then I push up her hoodie. I swallow hard when I realize she has nothing on under it.
Pushing thoughts of a naked Iris away, I use my hands to softly rub her lower back. Then I apply a bit of pressure. I work my fingers into her back, a little harder each time, until she lets out a little groan.
“Does it hurt?” I ask her.
“No. It feels great,” she tells me, arching her back up into my hands.
My cock twitches in my pants at the action, seeing it as sexual when it most definitely is not.
“Is it helping at least?” I ask.
“Mm-hmm,” she mumbles.
I need to get it together. Right now she is in pain, and I’m doing my best to help her through it. She doesn’t need me perving on her. She is trusting me. I need to keep myself in check.
Then she lets out another little moan.
She is trying to kill me. It is on the tip of my tongue to tell her that it is also possible that orgasms could relieve menstrual pain in some.
I won’t cross that line. Not right now. Not tonight.
Biting back the offer, I continue to massage her back until she is putty.
“Thank you, Max,” she says, turning over, stopping the massage.
“Of course. I’m glad you feel better.”
I stand, turning away so she doesn’t see the tent in my pants. I take my spot back on the end of the couch, cringing when she lays her head on my thigh once more. I’m grateful when she doesn’t move any higher. If she did, she would feel how hard I am.
We go back to watching the TV while I run my hands through her hair. Within minutes, she is snoring softly. It’s such an adorable sound. I want to bottle it up and take it with me everywhere I go.
I know I should leave. She is sleeping peacefully, but I cannot bring myself to do it. I’m not ready to leave her yet.
My blinks come slower as I stare down at her.
Only a few minutes longer.