Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
IRIS
Breathing hard, I push off the wall and swim to the other side of the pool before coming to a stop.
I prop my arms up on the ledge and smile.
This is the dream. Max and I have always traveled together, but it’s always been for work, never for vacation.
Not without others, at least. Not until now.
A week of nothing but bikinis, white sand, and sunrises.
The sun is warm against my skin, but that’s not why I’m feeling like I’m on fire.
“I can feel you staring.”
“How can I not? You’re naked.”
“Is that okay?” I ask without looking over my shoulder.
Instead of responding, Max dives into the pool. Within seconds, his arms cage me against the wall, and his body presses against mine. I sigh as his lips move along my neck.
“Morning,” I murmur, tilting my head to give him more room.
“Morning. You know, for a split second, I was worried when you weren’t in bed with me,” he says quietly as his lips ghost against my skin.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not.”
“No?” I shiver when he hits one particularly sensitive spot.
He turns me in his arms, and I wrap my legs around his hips, lining his cock up where I want him most.
“I love you,” I murmur right as he pushes inside.
“I love you too.”
Something shifts under my head, pulling me from my dream. That wasn’t the first sexual dream I’ve had about Max, but it’s definitely the first with him actually present.
He’s here.
Still curled up in a ball on my side, I smile.
He stayed.
Looking over my shoulder, my heart races. Max has his head tipped back at an uncomfortable angle, and his mouth is slightly open. Along his jaw he’s got more than a five o’clock shadow happening. I don’t even have to sit up to know that his dark hair is a mess.
Handsome. He’s so handsome, and for one minute I can’t help but pretend that he’s mine. That the dream I had was real.
If only.
His head rolls to the side, and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. He’s going to totally wake up with a crick in his neck.
Then again, mine doesn’t feel much better. His thigh is warm, but not quite so comfortable under my head.
I should get up. I need a chai tea latte and to make Max some coffee since I know he will want some once he rejoins the land of the living.
I could make him breakfast as well. As a thank you for the back massage.
I feel myself blush as I think about the way his hands felt on my bare skin. The way I moaned when he hit a particularly tight spot.
God, how embarrassing. I really do owe him breakfast at the very least.
Carefully, I shift, and that’s when I feel it. The wetness between my thighs. Horror fills me as I realize what happened while I was sleeping.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Scrambling, I push myself up, somehow nailing him in the balls, making him shout.
“Sorry!” I call over my shoulder as I head toward my bathroom.
As soon as I sit down on the toilet, I know that I made a mess. There’s no way I didn’t.
Tears build in my eyes. How mortifying. I know it’s illogical to be upset, but I am. Max knows. There’s no way he doesn’t. My couch is light gray, for crying out loud. There’s no way that it doesn’t look like a murder happened on it right now.
Shit, the blood is going to stain. It would be one thing if the couch was actually mine, but this is a furnished apartment, which means I ruined the company’s couch.
A sob slips out, and my body begins to shake. When a knock hits the bathroom door, I cover my mouth with my hand.
“Iris, are you okay?” Max asks through the door.
No, Maximilian, I’m so far from okay it’s not even funny. What a stupid question. Usually I don’t believe any question is a stupid question, but today is the exception.
Would you be okay? I want to yell back at him.
It’s not his fault. He’s just genuinely concerned.
My internal thoughts bicker back and forth while I sit on the toilet, petrified of what awaits me on the other side of that door.
A whimper falls from my lips as my eyes blur with tears.
“Iris…just take your time, okay? Do whatever you need to do. Take a shower or a bath. Once you’re done, I’m here, okay?”
“You should just go home,” I sob.
“I’m not going anywhere, Iris. Now take your time.”
I hear his footsteps retreating and hang my head.
I want to yell at him to leave, to tell him that I don’t need him, but that’s not true. I’ll always need Max. He’s not the type to walk away when he sees someone he loves hurting. He’s not going to walk away because my period got the best of me.
Even if my mortification wishes he would.
It’s no wonder I fell in love with him.
Goddamn him for being such a good guy.
After finishing my business, I turn on the shower.
While I wait for it to heat up, I put my hair up into a messy bun on the top of my head and then get into the shower.
As I step inside, I can’t help but groan.
The water feels good on my aching and stiff muscles.
For a while, I cry as the water beats down on me. After a while my tears dry up.
Everything is going to be fine.
I’m going to get dressed, then head to the living room. I’ll clean my couch if it wasn’t spared, and everything will be fine. It will be like every time we’ve shared a room before.
It’s Max, he’s not going to make a big deal out of this. In fact, I can almost guarantee he’s not going to say anything at all.
We will both pretend nothing happened at all.
It’s fine. It’s all going to be fine.
Riding high on my pep talk, I get out of the shower and quickly dress. After taking some over-the-counter pain reliever, I look at myself in the mirror.
Well, we might as well get this over with.
It’s going to be fine. Right?
MAX
My feet are heavy as I walk away from the bathroom. I hate hearing her cry. All I want to do is barge in there, wrap my arms around her, and tell her that everything is okay. She doesn’t need that though. Not now, at least.
Leaving her room, I head back to the living room and move right to the couch. As soon as she jumped up like her ass was on fire and scurried out of the room, I knew what happened. The bloodstain on the cushion says as much.
Grabbing it, I strip the cover off. Miraculously, there’s nothing on the cushion itself.
I head into the kitchen and to the sink.
I saturate the spot with water before adding a little bit of Dawn to it.
Rubbing the fabric together, I try to work the stain out.
After rinsing it, I see that it’s still there. Lighter, but still noticeable.
How the hell do you get blood stains out of fabric?
Without thinking about it, I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial the number of the one person I know who won’t judge me for asking.
“Max, is everything okay?” Glenda asks when she answers.
“Yeah, sorry for bothering you. I need your help with something.”
“What’s up?”
“How do you get a bloodstain out of fabric?”
Glenda’s quiet for so long I would think the call dropped if it wasn’t for the sound of dryers in the background.
“Max, did you really call me to ask a housekeeping question when you could have Googled it?” she asks with humor in her voice.
Shit, I didn’t even think of that. Why didn’t that thought even cross my mind?
“Why use Google when I could go straight to the best person I know?” I try to flatter her, ignoring how dumb I can be sometimes.
Still, she is such a smart woman. Almost like a grandma to me. How could I not call her? Glenda’s been the head of housekeeping for as long as I can remember at The Williamson Hotel. Not only that, but she has three daughters. A little blood is no match for her.
“Do you have gloves?” she asks.
“No, should I?”
“Typically I would recommend it, but if it’s your blood, it’s fine,” she says.
It’s not my blood, but she doesn’t need to know that. Wait, should it freak me out that I’m touching her blood? Before my mind can wander too far, Glenda pulls me back into the job at hand.
“Do you think you got it?” she asks after she gives me step-by-step instructions.
“I do. That shouldn’t be too hard.”
She laughs. “It won’t be. If you need any more help, just call.”
“Thanks, Glenda.”
“You’re welcome, Max.”
I hang up and then start searching for what I need. Seven minutes later, I drape the cushion cover over the back of a chair to dry.
Good as new.
Now what?
My stomach rumbles, making up my mind.
Food.
I make myself at home in her kitchen and find everything I need for pancakes and even some sausage links in the fridge.
Perfect.
I get to work on making us breakfast. As the pancakes cook, I send Chad a text letting him know that Iris and I won’t be in today and to reschedule our meetings. Right as I’m finishing up twenty minutes later, I’m greeted by footsteps coming down the hall.
“Right on time,” I tell her without looking up.
“What’s all this?” she asks hesitantly.
“Breakfast,” I say as I finally look at her.
Her hair is up in a messy bun. Iris has on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt that looks suspiciously like one of mine that went missing a long time ago.
She doesn’t have a stitch of makeup on, and I swear to God, even though I know she doesn’t feel great, she’s never looked more beautiful than she does right now.
“I was going to make you breakfast.” Her eyes dart to the couch. “You cleaned it?”
“I did.”
“You cleaned my couch and made me breakfast,” she repeats in disbelief.
“I hope it’s okay.”
When she looks back at me, I can see the tears in her eyes.
“Come here,” I demand as I open my arms.
Without any hesitation, Iris falls into me. She buries her face into my chest, and without overthinking it, I lean down and kiss the crown of her head.
“You okay?” I whisper.
“No,” she moans.
I’ll give her credit, at least she’s honest.
When she pulls away, I finally let go even though it’s the last thing I want to do.
“I was going to make you breakfast,” she repeats.
“Next time. Now come on, let’s go curl up on the couch and eat while we watch TV.” I look over at the couch. “Maybe we relocate to my place, though,” I tell her.
“But we should get ready for work…” she protests.
Before she’s even finished with the sentence, I’m shaking my head.
“No, neither of us is going to work today.”
“But we have meetings.”
“Which can be rescheduled. Today is a mental health day.”
Indecision is clear on her face.
“Come on, Iris, play hooky with me. You know you want to,” I tease.
“Okay.”
“Good. Now come on, let’s eat before it gets cold.”
We grab plates and fill them with food before we head into the living room.
With nowhere to sit, we get comfortable on the floor, using her coffee table to eat.
As soon as we sit down, Iris hands me the remote, and I turn on the TV.
The first thing that comes across the screen is the movie 10 Things I Hate About You, so I set the remote down, knowing it’s one of Iris’s all-time favorite movies.
“You want to watch this?” she asks.
Taking a bite of sausage, I nod. “It’s a good one.”
We eat in silence as the movie plays. Once we are done, I turn off the movie and help her stand.
“What do you need from here?” I ask.
She shrugs. “You can go. I’ll go lay in bed.”
I shake my head. “No way. We are in this together,” I tell her, grabbing her hand and swinging it. “So tell me what you need.”
She sighs. “My girl stuff and a fuzzy blanket. Oh, and meds for later.”
I nod. “I’ll go get all that. You get ready to leave.”
It takes me a few minutes to grab all her things, but when I come back out to the living room, I smile when I see she is in an oversized hoodie with a teddy bear that I won her our first year working together when we went to a charity carnival.
“Ready?” I ask.
She nods.
I lead her out of her apartment, locking it behind us before placing my hand on her lower back to lead her into the elevator. We are in my apartment in less than two minutes. I get her settled on the couch before I go to the kitchen and make her another smoothie.
When I sit back down next to her, I pull her into my side and turn the movie back on, fast-forwarding to where we left off.
“Hey, Max,” she says after a few minutes.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” she says quietly.
“You’re welcome.”
Even though this wasn’t how I expected my night and morning to go, I wouldn’t change a thing. Hopefully, I showed her that nothing will scare me away. Nothing.