Chapter 9 #3
“They will,” Annie sing-songed over her shoulder, retreating to the kitchen and grabbing the ingredients she needed: flour, baking powder, eggs, sugar, milk, vanilla, oil, and her special Annie touch—cinnamon.
She mixed her ingredients, dry ones first, whisking them by hand followed by the wet ones in the stand mixer, combining them all.
Muscle memory took it from there as she moved through the motions, and fifteen minutes later she set down a plate of steaming, fluffy, perfectly golden brown waffles.
“Now these look like waffles,” Lynn said, her smile broad as she reached for one with her fork.
Max loaded her plate up, Annie watching as she brought a small bite to her parted lips. She chewed thoughtfully, her eyelids fluttering closed in a way that made Annie shift in her seat as she waited for her approval.
“Fuck. Yeah. These are amazing.” Max grinned, taking another bite. “Is that cinnamon I’m tasting?”
“It is, it’s my signature.” Annie’s smile was firmly in place as she dove into her own waffle, enjoying the thrill of Max’s reaction to her cooking.
The three of them ate quietly, each getting lost in their individual crafts.
Every now and again, someone would say something that would spark a few minutes of conversation before they settled back into the quiet comfort of working together.
Annie, who was unsure whether this would feel awkward, was surprised to find the exact opposite—it felt easy, requiring no effort or performance on her end.
She could just quietly be here with Max and Lynn.
“I hate to cut this party short, but I’ve got to get to the stables,” Lynn said a little after twelve thirty, standing and stretching.
“Oh right, horseback riding,” Max said as she popped to her feet to clear the plates. Annie jumped up to join her.
Together they cleaned up, returning Lynn’s kitchen and dining room to their original states, saying goodbye to Lynn as Annie followed Max upstairs to her apartment.
“Any big plans for the rest of the day?” Annie asked, setting the stack of craft kits down on Max’s kitchen island.
Max kicked off her slides, shuffling around the space. She grabbed a water bottle off the opposite counter, taking a swig before responding. “A whole lot of nothing. Might run some errands, but nothing special. You?”
Annie leaned against the counter opposite her. “I’m getting a manicure with my mom and sister later this afternoon, which should be…interesting.” She let her voice trail off.
“Not your idea of fun?”
Annie looked at Max, her head tilted in thought.
“It’s not that. I actually love getting my nails done.
” She held up her hands, inspecting her fingers as she continued.
“It’s just that my mom, sister, and I don’t always bring out the best in each other.
And I don’t know if today is going to be fun or stressful, and that’s a lot to walk into. ”
“I’ve never been more thankful to be an only child.” Max laughed, and Annie grinned.
“The number of times I wished I was…the boys are pretty low drama. Drew is Drew. You know how he is, quiet and stoic, and keeps to himself. And Austin—you met him at the Christmas party—is too busy running all over the world to care what’s going on in Wellington Point.” She shrugged.
Max took another swig from her water bottle, swallowing, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. Annie’s eyes followed her movements, lingering on her lips still glistening with the remnants of the sip she had taken.
“What time are you meeting your mom and sister?”
“Four thirty,” Annie answered, shifting her gaze to meet Max’s.
“It’s probably boring, but want to run some errands with me?” Max looked at her with those impossibly blue eyes, nothing but genuineness in her smile—the one growing wider the longer she thought about Max’s offer, which sounded exactly like how she wanted to spend her Saturday.
“I’m in.”
“Perfect, let me change and then we can go. These booty shorts aren’t meant to be seen in public.
” She tossed Annie a flirty smile, disappearing into her bedroom off the kitchen, returning a moment later in a pair of light wash jeans artfully ripped down the front with black leggings underneath and the same oversized sweatshirt. “Let’s go.”
Errands, it turned out, consisted of a handful of stops.
First was the post office to beat the afternoon closure so Max could ship a box of vintage bird books to her dad in Maryland.
Annie, one hundred percent wanting to show off, had insisted on carrying the package for her and holding it the entire time they waited in line.
Then it was off to the craft store to return a paint-by-numbers kit Max ended up changing her mind about, muttering something about the dolphin design feeling a little too child-like.
Annie had purposefully taken them down the aisle with the bigger, more elaborate and expensive sets, nonchalantly asking Max if any appealed to her.
One did—a lighthouse landscape Annie made a mental note of.
Their last stop of the day was the grocery store, where Annie was shocked at how compatible their shopping habits were, each preferring a split-down-the-middle approach.
She took the produce, meat, and dairy items while Max scoured the inner aisles for the prepackaged items she needed.
The entire day felt so easy. Like running boring errands together was something they had been doing for ages.
A pang in her chest reminded Annie how much she missed this part of being coupled up with someone—having a person to move through the quiet parts of life with.
When they returned to Max’s apartment, Annie insisted on helping unload the groceries—she argued it was only fair after the waffle coup she had staged earlier—which is how they found themselves moving around each other in Max’s tiny kitchen.
“I had a lot of fun today,” Annie commented, removing bananas from the compostable produce bag, the matte green kind with the weird soft texture.
“Promise you weren’t bored? Sorry we couldn’t do anything more fun. I know errands aren’t that sexy, but unfortunately they do need to get done.” Max closed the refrigerator where she had just put away a carton of almond milk.
Annie smiled, handing the bananas to her. “Is this a safe space for a hot take?”
“Always.”
“I almost like doing the ‘boring’ things better. It’s easy to find someone to do the exciting parts of life with, but do you know how hard it is to find someone who you have mundane moments compatibility with?
” She reached into the paper bag, producing the final item—a loaf of sourdough bread—and handed it to Max, who set it on the counter next to them.
Annie inhaled deeply, very aware that Max had moved inside her personal space bubble, the thrill of excitement shooting through her at the proximity.
“I like that take,” Max said simply, eyelids heavy as her gaze dropped to Annie’s mouth for the umpteenth time that day—at this point Annie had lost count, and Max had stopped trying to hide the action.
Her pulse quickened as Max shifted closer still, but it was Annie who—astounding even herself—made the final surge forward, her lips meeting Max’s, hands flying up to cup her angular jaw, bringing their mouths closer still, their breath commingling in gasps of surprise and release.
Their bodies pressed together, Max pushing her back against the island counter, the drawer-pull digging uncomfortably into Annie’s lower back, but she didn’t care because she was kissing Max and Max’s hands were on her body.
Max, they had established, was a top lip kisser, which paired perfectly with Annie’s bottom lip preference—another mark on the list titled “Max.” Kiss compatibility: check.
A moan escaped her as Max sucked on her bottom lip, nibbling gently, making Annie’s hips rock forward against hers. Max groaned into her mouth, a guttural, primal sound, hands moving down Annie’s sides, over her hips.
“Wha—” She gasped as Max’s hands ran over her ass and lower still, hoisting her up and onto the counter, stepping perfectly into the empty space between Annie’s now parted thighs, never breaking their kiss.
The change in position sent a jolt of excitement through Annie’s veins, straight to her core, as she wrapped her legs around Max’s torso.
Using the opportunity to her advantage, Annie slowed the frantic kiss.
She slid her hands from Max’s jaw down her front, grazing delicately over her breasts before continuing further still, tugging at the fabric as she went.
Max reached for the hem of her sweatshirt and made quick work of it, discarding it on the checkered linoleum floor and—wow, Max looked perfect standing there in a white tanktop, and no bra, chest heaving.
The hardened peaks of her nipples were visible against the ribbed fabric and shit—Annie wanted to duck her head and take one in her mouth that instant.
“C’mere,” Max said hoarsely, voice raspy with the want she clearly held for Annie as she slid a hand around the back of her neck, pulling their lips together again.
The cool surface of the granite countertop seeped through Annie’s jeans, reminding her exactly where she was and exactly why they couldn’t go there yet.
One month.
The words echoed in her head, reminding her that she was still very much healing, and as much as she wanted to say fuck it and see what happened if she let this moment continue to play out—god, she really, really wanted to—she couldn’t.
She didn’t want that. She wanted to be sure she was in a good place before fully opening that door with Max.
Max trailed kisses down her jaw, expertly moving to her neck where she sucked lightly at the sensitive area below Annie’s ear, making her shiver.
Annie mustered all the willpower needed for the herculean effort to put a stop to this.
“Max,” she breathed, her voice hot and heavy as she pressed her palms to Max’s chest, pushing gently. “Max, wait.”