20. Paige
I chew on my hair.
It was a habit I hadn’t done since I was young but as I sit in my holding cell, waiting impatiently on my own, I can’t help but let the old coping mechanism resurface.
They had separated us and I had no idea where Max was. An uncomfortably large part of my heart aches for him to be by my side. His mere presence was a reassurance that nothing bad would happen, I mean, he is an amazing lawyer, and this was all just some misunderstanding.
I never thought jail time would have been something that party planning would put on my resume, but here I sit, trapped in this tiny cell like it’s my own personal form of torture. I need to not be so dramatic, it’s not like I’m going to spend the rest of my life in jail…
Right?
I start to hyperventilate again, drawing the attention from the guard outside of my cell, heaving his own sigh he steps towards the water cooler and grabs me a cup.
We’ve already been through this processes three times tonight.
Or I guess it was morning by this time.
“Drink.” The guard says and I stand from my bench, stepping up to him and taking the small paper cup from him.
“Thanks.” I say before drinking the entire contents of the cup in one gulp, then hand it back to him. “I’m so sorry about all of this, I swear it’s just a big misunderstanding.” I say and he just nods.
“So you’ve said.” He rolls his eyes before starting back to his desk and chair. He opens the magazine he’d been reading, propping his feet up on the desk, completely dismissing and ignoring me once more.
I suppose I can’t be too perturbed with the officer, he probably dealt with people claiming their innocence all the time.
“Can you tell me how Max is doing?” I blurt.
“Nope.” He shakes his head without taking his focus from his magazine.
I sigh, my shoulders dropping as I rest back on the bench.
“But I can tell you what he’s not doing.”
I instinctively perk up at his words, my hopes soaring at the prospect of getting some glimpse of if Max was okay or not. “Really?”
He nods, still not taking his eyes off the magazine. “He’s not refusing to sleep and hyperventilating every other hour.” And finally, he meets my gaze out of the corner of his eye.
I gulp. “Sorry.” I mutter before shrinking back into myself, pulling my legs up against my chest, my skirt hanging from my knees as I try to slow my racing heart.
I’m about halfway there when a new officer steps into the room, her own air of confidence and power emanating off of her like tidal waves. “Let her out.” She says shortly to my guardsman. “She’s free to go.”
He instantly jumps to his feet and steps back towards me, keys rattling as he unlocks my cell and I’m finally able to step free from its confines. “Thank you.” I say softly before following the female officer out the holding room and towards a large desk. Quickly the woman officer processes me, having me sign some documents and then giving me a bag that had my phone, keys, and wallet inside.
When the officer leads me out into the lobby, I’m instantly met by Maxon, who”s on his phone typing away wildly at it, next to the smiling face of Laney. I instantly go and hug her. “Thank you so much.” I say and she squeezes me back.
“Anytime! Well, wait, no. Let’s not let this become a habit.” She shoots me a wink.
She was the only person I’d thought to call last night when they’d given me a phone, she at least could vouch for my innocence having been the photographer for the party. And at that moment my innocence was the only thing I could really think about.
“Are you okay?” Maxon’s question draws my attention and I release Laney from the crushing hug.
I nod. “Yeah. Just tired.”
“Did you get any sleep?”
I let out a dry laugh. “No, not around the overthinking.” Laney pats my arm empathetically.
“C’mon, I’ll drive you back to your car.” She eyes Max. “And your…”
“Bike.” He supplies and she cuts me a quick glance that held a message I could clearly read. It went a little something like this:
Motorcycle? HOT!
In the few short meetings Laney and I have had leading up to the birthday party, she’s asked a series of strategic questions about Max and I. And yesterday while packing up her camera from the party, she revealed to me that she thinks Maxon and I ending up together is “endgame,” whatever that means.
I nudge her arm and she starts to lead the way out of the police station, Maxon trailing behind as he continues to type on his phone. Laney takes her opportunity and grabs ahold of my arm, pulling me flush against her side. “You have a lot of explaining to do young lady.” She says in a low tone, her voice on the cusp of a whisper.
I gulp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I lie.
She shakes her head, her blonde, shoulder length hair whipping around her face in the movement. “So, spending late nights with the handsome lawyer and getting arrested is a standard for you Ms. Knox? I underestimated you.”
I let out a sharp laugh as we approach Laney’s car and I reach for the back passenger seat handle when another hand snaps up alongside me and opens the door. A gasp escapes me, maybe it was just how jumpy I am due to lack of sleep, but regardless, Maxon’s proximity suddenly has me rattled to my very core.
And it was an exhilarating feeling that I could get addicted to.
I spin on him, and now he’s caging me against the car, my breath hitching as I stare into his deep brown eyes and all I can think about is that kiss from last night. How tempting it was to pretend like it could be like that forever, that nothing else mattered, not his dad and stepmom, not my mom and gram, not the differences of lifestyles we live. That we could just be Max and Paige again like when we were kids. Maybe that’s why we were always so drawn to each other, those differences didn’t matter, there was never any underlying feeling about our families or status.
We cared about each other, and it was that simple.
He arches an eyebrow at me, and I realize I’ve been staring at his lips.
Heat crawls up my neck, heating my face to the point I’m fairly certain it was hot enough that it rivaled the wood burning stove in his living room.
Stupid me, nothing is ever that simple.
I snap back around and climb into the backseat, momentarily catching Laney’s gaping jaw before I make the lips zipping motion at her and she snaps her mouth shut. The door closes behind me and a second later Maxon climbs into the passenger seat.
An hour and a half later we’re stepping through the cabin front door, my car stuffed with boxes from the botanical garden that we’d had to leave by the front door last night after getting arrested. Mr. Evans, the garden’s administrator, wasn’t in the office yet so I opted to just gather the last of my things and then come back to the cabin for some much needed sleep.
As if he could sense how exhausted I was, Maxon followed me back to the cabin on his bike, taking my oversized bag from me the second I stepped from my car and is now hanging it on a hook next to the front door of the cabin. “Do you want some tea or anything?” He asks, his voice almost so soft I didn’t hear him.
I blink at him, my mind taking a moment to process his words. “Yeah, tea would be nice.” I say, running a hand over my face before following him into the kitchen.
Standing at the counter I watch him as he readies the tea kettle. His movements are smooth and fluid, as if the events of the night hadn’t affected him at all, like we didn’t just get out of jail and goodness only knows what follows something like that…
No, Maxon. Maxon knows.
“Will we have to go to court or anything?” I ask, slipping onto the bar stool as the anxiety begins to creep up into my chest again.
I was never the bad girl.
I was never rebellious or even outgoing.
That was part of the reason party planning came so easily to me, I got to be a part of all the parties but I was always on the outside, watching, not participating.
And that’s how I like it.
It was one of the ways I never fit in with the Grants or even the Bennetts for that matter. They were always having parties and having to go to social events where they must be in the spotlight and that just sounds exhausting to me.
Max shakes his head as he begins to fill a little metal ball with the fresh tea leaves I had bought and stored in the cupboard. Then he pulls out the honey and sets it on the counter in front of me because of course he knows how I like my tea.
The man was basically perfect.
“No, I’ve already got Devon on it. He’s contacting the administrator at the garden and they’ll clear things up with the police. You didn’t do anything wrong Paige, you had permission to be there. Someone on their side messed up.”
Relief floods my body and I nod. “I’m not used to this kind of thing.”
The corner of his lips picks up into a slight smile as he focuses on the tea. “I know, but don’t worry. You don’t have to do this on your own.”
Something in my chest swells, like a part of me is desperately trying to claw its way out and it nearly steals my breath away. A prickling sensation stings at the back of my eyes as tears threaten to fall and I place my hands over my face to hide them.
I think this was the first thing that I’ve ever done where I have to just let someone else deal with it. It’s something that I have no clue how to manage and I have to trust him to take care of it. Shoot, he’s already taken care of it. The second we were released he was typing away on his phone and dealing with it so that I didn’t have to.
And what’s worse than that… is the relief that I don’t have to do this all by myself.
Against my palm I feel a tear slip down my cheek, then a gentle brush of fingers against my forearm.
“Hey, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.” Maxon’s voice is filled with tenderness and concern and I feel shattered all over again.
I nod against my palms.
“Did you get any sleep last night?”
I shake my head.
He lets out a deep sigh and not even a second later I’m lifted off the barstool. I let out a surprised squeak, my hands flying from my face and around his neck as he carries me bridal style towards the couch.
“Max!” I screech, holding onto him tightly, not at all used to being carried around. “What are you doing?”
He carefully sets me down on the cushion that I’ve subtly claimed as my favorite spot, right next to the wood burning stove, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say I kind of missed his arms the second he let me go.
Max then grabs the blanket that’s draped across the back of the couch and spreads it over my legs. “Getting you comfortable. So don’t argue.”
I bite my lips together, that stinging sensation in my eyes starting to come back with a vengeance as he steps back towards the kitchen and grabs the cup of tea. “Thanks.” Is all I can manage as he sets the cup down on the end table next to me then begins to restart the fire in the stove.
Silence settles over us as he works on the wood burner, and pretty soon he’s gotten a small fire going again and I think I’ve managed to suppress any kind of emotions that would make those traitorous tears fall again. When he settles back onto the couch next to me I have to fight the urge to reposition and curl up against his side.
Thatwould be a very bad idea.
“Do you remember that one summer when we fell asleep out in the field?” I say instead, staring at my dark amber tea.
He laughs. “I didn’t mean for us to fall asleep, I just wanted to watch the meteor shower with you.”
I grin at my tea at the memory, he’d dragged me out that night, driving us back here to one of the grassy fields where he’d set up a blanket, snacks, some lanterns and a telescope. We laid on the blanket for hours watching the meteors shoot across the sky, the tall grass under the blanket acting like a natural cushion.
Looking back, I couldn’t tell you at what point I fell asleep next to him. But when I woke up the sun was starting to rise over the horizon and we raced me back home.
That was the only time I got in trouble with my mom.
I lean my head back, feeling the tension from the last twelve hours leave my body. “I did really enjoy it. I’m not sure I ever told you that.”
“I know.” He says and I shoot him a questioning look despite the growing heaviness in my eyes. “You never talked about it. You don’t talk about the things you enjoy. Like just acknowledging it threatens its existence, that someone will tell you it didn’t really happen or something. So, instead, you hoard those moments away… I know you remember, you’ve always had a better memory than anyone I know. You just don’t want to share those memories with anyone.”
My eyes have fully closed at this point, and listening to his deep timbre has lulled me into such a peaceful state that I hardly remember the last thing I say before falling asleep completely.
“I’ll share them with you.”