Becoming His (16 page)

S
aturday night I have the house to myself and groan when the doorbell rings. As I shuffle out of the den to answer it, I send a silent prayer that it isn’t Mindi. She’d mentioned being upset with Kyle, and I’m really not in the mood to hear about it tonight.

“Plans got canceled?” Max asks, surveying my yoga pants and T-shirt as I open the front door. I glance down at my outfit, suddenly very aware of the fact that my hair is pulled back in a messy bun and I’m not wearing a trace of makeup. Not to mention the shirt I’m wearing probably should have been thrown out at least a year ago. Thankfully my black yoga capris are kind of cute, and even flattering, but I still look like a mess.

I try to play off my discomfort by plastering a smile on my face and shake my head in response to his question.

“I thought you told Emory you had plans tonight?” Max asks, folding his arms across his chest as he leans against the doorjamb.

“This is my plan. I have a chocolate pie and a couple of episodes of
Newsroom
.”

“You turned down a date and a party to watch TV… in your pajamas?”

“It wasn’t going to be a date. I’ve told you, Emory and I are
just friends
. And yes, I turned down a party and hanging out with a
friend
to watch TV in my pajamas. Did you come over just to antagonize me about it?”

“No, I came to watch Newsroom and eat pie.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Make fun all you want. Go have fun on your … date?” I ask, looking at his dark washed jeans and black V-neck T-shirt.

Max follows my eyes and shrugs. “This is how I dress to eat pie and watch
Newsroom
.”

“Your loss.” I take a few steps away from the door. “The dress code for this kind of evening allows for sweatpants.”

“I’ll be back, then.” Max turns and I watch as he takes long strides back to his house.

Panic and excitement wash over me as I stare back down at my outfit, silently pledging to throw this shirt away in the morning. It will be too obvious to try and put on makeup or change my shirt now. I run a hand over my hair in an attempt to smooth it down as I make my way into the den where I’ve spent most of the day hibernating. Hoping to conceal my messy look, I start turning off some of the lights.

My mom has redecorated every room in our house several times, but my dad has banned her from touching the den. It’s always been his space. He has his home office in the back corner where his desk takes up a good portion of the wall. A large shelf hangs above it, adorned with medals and awards from golfing and different marathons. The wall surrounding it is covered in mismatched picture frames filled with my sisters and me from over the years. The stacks of professional awards that he’s received all sit stacked on the bookcase beside his desk so they’re hardly visible except for the large black frames.

A TV sits on the far wall, surrounded by couches and bookshelves. Although we have a family room downstairs with a larger TV, this room is primarily where we congregate to watch TV or movies as a family.

I glance around the room, now dimly lit by a couple of floor lamps, and panic resonates in me as I realize it has a slightly romantic feel. I quickly scramble to turn on nearly every light in the room, making it brighter than it was initially as the doorbell chimes.

I pull my shirt up to my nose and take a deep breath as I go to answer the door. Even from the thousand washes this shirt has endured, I can still smell the slight whisper of my perfume woven so deeply within the threads, I reckon it may be impossible to ever be washed out.

When I pull the door open Max stands before me still in the black V-neck T-shirt, but now wearing a pair of dark gray sweatpants in place of his jeans.

“Better?”

“Better,” I agree with a smirk.

“So do you blow off people a lot to be antisocial?”

I shrug as I lead him to the den and take a seat on the couch centered in front of the TV. Max comes and sits beside me; these casual interactions are becoming more natural and comfortable between us.

Max laughs at appropriate times and doesn’t talk when you need to be paying attention—two important show watching etiquettes so many people fail miserably at.

“So you enjoy partying, vegging out, and I keep seeing these books in your suitcase of a purse,” he says as the first episode concludes. “So I’m guessing you like to read.”

A quiet laugh escapes my lips, and I watch his eyes focus on my mouth.

“What else does Ace Bosse like to do?” His eyes travel back to mine.

“That’s pretty much me in a nutshell,” I say with a dismissive shrug.

“I have a feeling there’s a lot more to you than partying, watching TV, and reading.”

“You forgot pie.” I stab the tines of my fork into the slice of chocolate pie beside me. Max smiles a huge, white-toothed grin that makes my heart briefly stutter.

“What about you, Max Miller? What do you like to do?” I ask before he can continue on his familiar quest of questions.

“Be awesome.”

I roll my eyes and reach for a handful of cold popcorn sitting between us and throw it at the cocky grin covering his face. I watch as the kernels dance down to his chest as his eyebrows rise in surprise, his smile turning more genuine.

“Did you seriously just throw food at me?”

I raise my eyebrows and do it again without hesitation.

Max maintains his grin as his look becomes calculating, and I look straight into eyes that quickly become alight with devious intentions.

“Where’s your phone?”

My eyebrows lower over my eyes and my head tilts to understand his intentions. “My phone?” Max nods as he stands. “Probably in the kitchen. Why?”

Max reaches into his pockets and tosses his cell phone and keys onto the couch beside me. My mind barrels down what I know is the wrong path, but it’s difficult to keep it from going there as he strips off his T-shirt, revealing his bare chest.

Max reaches forward and grabs my waist, hoisting me over his shoulder before I can voice my objection.

“It was only popcorn!” I squeal as he opens the door with one hand, still griping my thighs tightly with the other.

“Don’t you dare!” I warn as he nears the pool. “Max, no! Put me down!”

He doesn’t respond. We continue getting closer to the bright blue water aglow with lights. So I do what any logical person in my position would do: I wrap my arms around his waist in a death grip.

“If I’m going in, so are you,” I warn.

“That’s what I figured.” He effortlessly pulls me upright. I’m still trying to ascertain if I conceded, or if I simply never stood a chance against him when his arms tighten on my legs and shoulders.

My thoughts sink to the bottom as we slice through the water.

“Vindictive are we?” I ask, climbing out of the pool. I shiver in my sodden clothes and head toward the house, leaving a trail of water in my wake.

“You’re already done swimming?” Max teases.

“To think I was letting you eat my pie!” I cry, shaking my head as I step inside and shut off the patio lights.

I know he’ll have to return for his phone and keys, so I quickly dart upstairs to put on some dry clothes, aiming for something more attractive than my last outfit without appearing that I’m trying too hard.

I sit beside Zeus, rubbing his large boxed head. Max still hasn’t returned, and the pool was empty when I came down, but his things still sit on the couch, assuring me he’ll be back. Zeus releases a sigh and closes his eyes as he leans against me.

A few minutes later Max reappears wearing a dry pair of black sweatpants and plain white T-shirt that fits as snug as his black one still strewn across the couch.

“Feeling less ornery?”

“How’d you get changed without your keys?”

“A window in the sunroom has a broken latch,” He answers, tilting his head towards his backyard.

“You just declared war.” I stand to join him on the couch.

Max grabs some popcorn, and keeping his eyes on me, he slowly starts eating it with a salacious grin.

“War, huh? This could get exciting.”

I frown, my chin dropping while my eyebrows rise, before throwing a nearby pillow at his chest and starting another episode.

“A
ce, Ace.”

I hear my name whispered and ignore it; I haven’t been asleep long enough to be concerned with waking up yet.

“Ace, babe, you’ve got to get up.” My eyes snap open as the voice registers in my mind and I see a stretch of black fabric in front of me. My muscles stiffen as I realize it’s Max’s sweatpants. My body jerks upright, and I turn to see him grinning at me.

“I fell asleep.”

“You’re horrifying when you wage war.” A faint smile crosses his lips as his eyes travel over my face.

My own mouth curves in a hesitant smile as I attempt to casually run a hand over my hair, praying it isn’t sticking up at weird angles from falling asleep on it wet.

“I’m sorry to be such lame company,” I lament, avoiding his gaze.

“I had a good time; I plotted my attack and watched some Sports Center.”

“What time is it?” I look out the window and see it’s still dark.

“A little after one.”

“I slept more than two hours?”
On your freaking lap!
“I’m sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it. You can make up for it tomorrow when we go bowling.”

“Bowling?”

A smile forms on Max’s lips as he stands from the couch and leads us to the foyer. “Goodnight, Ace,” he says, opening the front door. He holds it open as he turns to look over at me and I see the shadow of something starting to cross his features before he shakes his head and smiles before disappearing into the darkness.

T
he next night we indeed go bowling, and we have a blast. I’m ecstatic to see Jameson and Kendall have hit it off, and it’s apparent they both genuinely like each other. I’ll give her credit, she’s not trying to play many games with him.

We finish the night at our house, preparing to hang out at the pool where Jenny and Landon join us. Landon’s been gone for the past couple of weeks visiting family in Florida, and he seems more energetic and happy now that he’s back.

Jameson, who claims to have a hidden talent for mixing drinks, heads to the sitting room to make a round of drinks for everyone as the rest of us change.

I’m the first of my sisters to step outside where the porch lights illuminate most of the backyard. My eyes seem to naturally fall directly on Max, who’s already in the pool with Landon, playing basketball.

“Try one of these,” Jameson says, making me jump. I face him and he offers me a tall glass with a knowing smirk.

I accept it and briefly inspect it. It’s the color of watered-down orange juice with a brown tint. It looks far from appealing since I’m not a fan of dark liquor, but then again that’s never exactly stopped me, so I take a drink.

My throat constricts and my eyes water as I swallow. I take a few deep breaths, fighting the need to cough as the burn reaches my stomach. I shake my head in both disgust and refusal and hand it back to him.

“That’s strong!” I blink a few times, still feeling the heat. “You’re trying to impair me so you can win at basketball, huh?”

Kendall appears beside me, wearing a hot pink bikini and a devious grin as she hands me another cup. I peer in and smell the sweetness of the juice.

“Orange juice, pineapple juice, some Grenadine, and rum.” She answers my silent question.

I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip. It kind of tastes like sunscreen smells to me, but I know that’s from the coconut-flavored rum Kendall likes.

“Chick drink,” I say, offering the cup to Jameson. He takes a long pull and hands it back to me.

“That isn’t strong enough,” he says with a Cheshire grin that has me rolling my eyes.

“I thought you didn’t drink?” Landon says, looking at me. Max stops and turns to watch my response.

“Who told you that? She can freaking drink us under the table.” Jenny comes out of the house in a black string bikini, her short blond hair tied in a pony.

Landon shakes his head. “A guy we saw today.”

I’m slightly curious as to how I’d come up in conversation, especially anything that has to do with drinking. I glance to Max, wondering if he had mentioned the story I’d shared with him. His eyes widen at my silent accusation and he gives a brief shake of his head before Kendall answers.