112. Summer
Chapter One Hundred Twelve
Summer
W ith my eyes still adjusting from the blindfold as I walk through campus, the early morning sun nearly blinds me.
I am disgusted with myself for being so weak when it comes to him, and I can’t even blame him.
All that just happened because of me. I promised him I would spill his blood, but that was before I felt how deeply I missed him.
I’d reflected a lot while we were apart, and with every day, my fury with him eased.
Because with every day that I didn’t hear from him, I got more and more jealous.
What if he were with another female? Touching her, kissing her, fucking her.
Even now rage bubbles inside me at the thought. Honestly, I know that if I found out that he was with someone else, I would do more than break her arm, and I hate that about myself.
I spend the whole morning trying not to think of him, and by the time lunch comes around, I’m relieved to see Max sitting at the table. I’m excited to settle into my more rational self as I sit next to him.
Max smiles at me. “So,” he begins, dread filling me for whatever is coming. “Rafe is missing. And so is Mira.”
I sigh. “He said he was going to be patient.”
Max nods. “But he’s stupid and in love.” Max takes a bite of his sandwich. “Hopefully, she’s smart.”
“One can hope. Have you seen Alice?”
“Leo neither,” Max says, shaking his head.
“Fuck it. I’m going to cut this afternoon. I’m not in the mood,” I say, slumping a little.
Max snorts. “What a star student.”
I quirk a brow at him.
“Want a ditch partner?” Max asks with a cocky smirk.
My lips twitch. “Let’s go.”
Max stands and offers me his hand, dragging me out of the cafeteria and leading me to his place.
We’re mostly silent on the walk. It’s not comfortable like it used to be with Connor, but it’s companionable.
The second the door to his apartment is open, he pulls me close.
His mouth covers mine, and I return the kiss easily as he backs me into the room and kicks the door closed behind him.
Max yanks at his tie and shrugs off his jacket, deepening the kiss. Suddenly, thoughts of the stranger flash into my mind, and I jerk back.
Max freezes midway through unbuttoning his shirt. “What is it?”
I shake my head, trying to banish the stranger from my mind.
Smiling at Max, I kiss him again, enjoying the taste of his moan.
He pushes my blazer aside before starting on my necktie.
I curl my fingers into the waistband of his slacks and pull him against me.
Max cups my thighs and lifts me, carrying me across the room.
He drops me onto the mattress, and I laugh as I bounce lightly against the springs.
Max follows me down, and I open my thighs for him, bringing my knees to his hips as he settles on top of me.
I moan, but then thoughts of the stranger flood my mind again, his hands, his lips, how his weight felt against me this morning.
I turn away from the kiss again, but Max doesn’t seem to notice.
He trails his lips down my neck, and I tilt my head for him, but my mind is still on the stranger.
I stare up at the ceiling, playing out what would have happened if we hadn’t stopped.
Max glides his hands up my thighs, and his fingers tangle in the lace of my panties, about to pull them down.
“Max, wait,” I say. I can’t do this, not when I’m thinking of him. Shit, why can’t I stop thinking about him?
Max stops immediately and looks down at me, his face etched in concern.
“I’m sorry. I’m just really in my head.”
Max nods and leans in, kissing me softly. “How do I get you out of it?” I open to him, and while Max deepens the kiss, he doesn’t try to unclothe me any more than I already am.
I moan softly and relax a little beneath him. Max’s large hand slides down my thigh, and I try to lose myself in him. In the kiss. In his touch. In his weight on top of me. It feels so different from the stranger’s.
Max groans, digging his fingers into my hair.
I drag my nails down his back as he slides the hand on my thigh up to cup my ass.
He squeezes the supple flesh, pulling another moan from my lips.
But even this reminds me of when the stranger did the same just this morning.
How his rings dug into me, and as if the memory summoned them, the bruises the stranger left throb beneath Max’s touch. It feels so wrong.
Seeming to sense my instinctive withdrawal, Max rolls with me so I’m straddling him. I rest my hands on his chest and kiss him for a moment before I pull back to sit up on him, thoughts of the stranger stubbornly etched into my mind, into my skin, into my soul.
“Can we take a break for a bit?”
Max nods, looking up at me, and I roll off him, exhaling heavily.
“I’m sorry, Max. I should go,” I say, standing up and searching for my shirt and blazer.
“Is there something I can do?” Max asks, propping himself up on one elbow.
“It’s me. I’m just in my mind,” I say, shaking my head as I pick up my heels.
“Talk to me?”
I exhale, looking at him. “Can we just watch a movie?” I should go, but I don’t want him to feel like I’ve rejected him more than I already have.
Max nods and rolls off the mattress. He pulls a shirt on, and we settle on the couch.
It is his turn to pick, so we sit for a while watching a martial arts movie.
His arm is casually draped around me, and about halfway through, I decide to try again.
I want to feel normal. I want to feel like I don’t belong to him.
I look at Max. His attention is still locked on the television, so I cup his cheek and turn his face toward me.
Max looks at me, his eyes flashing green as I lean in to brush my lips over his.
He groans and slides his arm from the back of the couch to wrap it around my waist, pulling me onto his lap to straddle him.
I feel how ready he is for me and deepen the kiss, rocking against him.
My mind is free of thoughts of the stranger until Max breaks the kiss and slides his teeth over the still-sensitive bite mark on my neck.
My entire body goes rigid, and I pull back again.
I can tell Max is sexually frustrated, but like the good guy he is, he masks it quickly .
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I say, frustrated with myself, but not at Max. I slide off his lap. “I should go. I’ll text you.”
Max grabs my wrist. “Summer. We are friends.” I glance at him. “It’s not something to feel guilty about.”
“What?”
“It’s okay not to be feeling it. You don’t need to rush out or be weird.”
“Max.” I lean down and brush my lips over his. “That’s not what this is.” At least, I don’t think that is what this is. “I just need to work through some things. Okay?”
“Okay,” Max says with a frown.
I kiss him again before leaving his apartment, and the second I get outside, I can feel him. I can sense his anger, but all I feel is hopeless.
I feel like, since coming to Avalon, I have been a mess, but since Connor died, it’s as if I can’t draw a full breath.
I feel at war with myself, and I am struggling to remember why I am even fighting.
Ignoring his ire, I start to walk, not really surprised to find myself in the forest, in our meadow.
The emotions battle inside me, and I can’t distinguish between them. What has the stranger done to me to make me think of him like this? After this morning, I feel like I’ve been under a spell, but what changed? I know the answer, and it’s terrifying because the thing that has changed is me.
I stand in the middle of the clearing. I am alone, and it makes everything fucking worse.
While his anger was loudly present outside Max’s place, here there is only my anger, my sadness, my confusion, my grief, my fear.
I pace up and down until the grass beneath my feet is entirely flat, and then I close my eyes.
I stop and take a deep breath. Closing my eyes and tipping my head back in defeat, I whisper, “Stranger?”
There is a long moment of silence, and I’m just about to give up on him coming when the air shifts and that nugget of his power within me stirs in his presence. “I am not good company at the moment,” he says sharply.
Even his avatar is vibrating with anger, and I take a step closer to him, but he steps back. “I should not be here.”
“Stranger—”
“Do you understand what it’s like for me to hold back and have to watch as you?.?.?. ?” He snarls, and the trees quake under the power radiating from him .
I watch him carefully, but even after everything, I’m not afraid of him.
“Less than five hours. That’s all it took,” he says, turning away from me.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, frowning.
He whirls on me. “You went from my bed to?.?.?.” He chokes on the last word, and the trees start to wither under the immensity of his power.
“You have no right to?—”
“I know that!” he snarls. “Did you come here to rub it in my face? Is this more punishment?”
“To rub it in your face?” I snarl back. I came here because I fucking needed him.
“That I have no right to be upset?” he hisses, and I’m not sure when it happened, but he’s right in front of me, looming over me. “To be enraged?!”
“And yet you are. Not even five hours after we discussed this,” I throw back at him, my voice as loud and powerful as his. “After we decided to be friends.”
“You called me here. I said it wasn’t a good idea.”
“Because I?.?.?.” I shake my head, my voice quieter now. “Fuck, you’re right. How dare I need my friend?”
He snarls again, the sound steeped in venom. “We were never friends. We can never be friends.”
“You agreed to it!”
He pants, more of his power radiating from him. “Because I am fucking in love with you!”
My breath hitches, every scrap of anger completely extinguished.
“I’d agree to anything to be near you!” he yells, his power becoming more volatile.