Making It Through (5 page)

Sorry, was just thinking. Tears aren’t always a bad thing. Saturday sounds good. I will meet you there. Going to bed. Night.

Sweet dreams.

For the first time in weeks, I actually slept. Not that I didn’t still wake, but my mind was less jumbled. Pretty sure I had a lot to thank Max for on Saturday.

Saturday—it really had taken its sweet time getting here. The days were long and tense around my house, even with my dad not around much. It was like I had to walk on eggshells. When I wasn’t in class, I spent most of my time at the library, studying. Classes still weren't great,, but I had been diligent in my note taking. Max had been on my mind as I sat in class, hoping I was making a big enough attempt to match his tutoring efforts.

I arrived at the address he had programmed into my phone. I stopped just outside, looking up at the brown brick triplex building. I had been nervous on and off most of the day, but as I stood there, my stomach started to do some serious somersaults. I gave my whole body a quick shake—which probably looked ridiculous to anyone who saw it—and then marched to the door. Luckily, a lady was exiting just as I arrived, so I slipped into the building and headed upstairs. Max’s apartment was on the top floor. Before losing my nerve, I knocked on the door, and it was promptly answered by a guy with glasses and chin-length curly hair.

“Hey, you must be Mady. I’m Max’s roommate, Jordan. He isn’t home just yet, but come on in.”

He
led
me into the room and gestured at the couch for me to sit. “Do you want a drink or something?”

“Uh, no, thank you.” As I looked around, I was struck by how impressive the space was. It definitely wasn’t as small as I expected, but it was more about the neatness. Right in front of me was their living room. They had a modest entertainment centre on the wall across from the couch, and I noticed that, while each shelf appeared to be filled with games, it was organized. The gray u-shaped couch was comfortable. To the right of the living room was an open concept kitchen, pretty decent in size, though nothing about it was outstanding. The two rooms were separated by a nice, wooden breakfast bar. I made my way over and sat in a corner of the couch.

From down the hall on the left, another guy appeared. “Hi, Mady, I’m Scott, nice to meet you,” he greeted me. “The bathroom is down there, in case you need it, along with our bedrooms. Max’s room is down the hall over there.” He gestured toward another hall on the right, which was hidden by the kitchen.

“Come, let’s sit.” Scott tugged on my arm, and sank into the couch beside me.

Scott was a tall and muscular, with rich red hair and freckles—totally gorgeous, but he looked like he knew it.

“So
you're
a new friend of Max’s, are you?” he asked me with a smile.

“Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that; he’s tutoring me, actually. So, Max told me he’s at a football game?”

Scott nodded. “Yup. He should be back shortly.”

“You have a really nice place here,” I commented, looking around again.

“Thanks, we all had a hand in decorating it. So, what class is he tutoring you in?”

I lowered my eyes to my hands. “All of them. He’s helping me get caught up after a short absence. The classes move so fast, and I’m behind. Max’s been great with his time.”

Jordan laughed. “I’ll bet he has.”

“Now that I think about it, I could tutor you, if you were looking for any extra help, you know, for when Max isn’t available,” Scott offered.

“Don’t even think about it, man, it’s never going to happen.” Max’s voice rang through the apartment in a menacing tone.

I turned to greet him, but the smile on my face faded when I saw him. He was carrying football equipment. He played football. I don’t know why I had automatically assumed he was going to watch, but I was clearly wrong; the breath left my chest, I squeezed my eyes shut. Memories of Matt swarmed my brain—the countless games we attended, me cheering him on like I was a crazy person—and each one ripped at my heart. He had been so talented, and I had always expected him to go pro one day.

I shook my head, ran my trembling hands through my hair, and looked back up at Max. Our eyes met, his concern clear. “You okay?”

Glances from the other guys followed, oblivious as to what had just happened.

I nodded and tried to pull off a smile.

Jordan stood and started to walk down the hall. “All right, well things just got weird, so Scott and I are going to head out.”

“Out?” I squeaked, suddenly nervous.

“Yup, it’s Saturday night, and we have the bar to hit. You two have a good night studying.”

Both roommates were changed and gone in record time. So much for the chaperones.

I turned toward Max, who was still standing near the breakfast bar, staring at the floor in front of him.

“Are you
all right
?” I asked.

He smiled at me. “Of course, beautiful. I should ask you the same thing. What happened a minute ago?”

I sighed. “I wish you weren’t quite so observant. I thought you were going to watch a game, not play in it. Seeing you holding your gear caused some flashbacks. I’m
all right
.”

“Flashbacks of Matt?”

I nodded. “Yup. He played, too. I went to all his games. We used to watch professional football games together, too. I love the sport, but I've tried not to think too much about all that.”

Max dropped his gear and came towards me, pausing with a wince after the first step.

“What’s wrong?

“Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Ugh! Why do guys do that? Why pretend like nothing has happened, or is it just that us girls are too fragile to handle it?”

“Whoa, easy there, tiger.” Max laughed. “I’m fine. I got hit pretty good, and my shoulder is a little tender, but it’s nothing that a hot shower won’t fix.”

Now I felt like an idiot. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have jumped down your throat like that. Why didn’t you get it worked on while you were still in the locker room?”

Max looked at me funny. “You know the goings on of a locker room?”

“Yes, but not while anyone was naked or anything. I volunteered on occasion. Anything to spend time with Matt.”

“Well, I was in a bit of a hurry to get home. I didn’t want to keep someone waiting for me.”

I rolled my eyes. “That person would have waited while you got massaged. So silly. Why don’t you go take a hot shower now, and
I'll
wait right here for you. Okay?”

“You sure you don’t mind?”

I stood, walked over to him, and instantly wrinkled my nose. “In fact, I insist. You kinda stink.”

Max laughed loudly, stepping back and in the direction of the hallway. “Sorry. I won’t be long.”

I sank back into the corner of the couch and curled up. I heard the water running, and that was all it took to set my mind racing.

I pulled out a textbook and tried to focus on the words in front of me, but I quickly realized how distracting the sound of a shower can be. I couldn’t help the images of Max that overcame my senses, my imagination going into overdrive. I pictured what he might look like with water running down the length of him;
Argh!
I was driving myself insane. I groaned loudly resting my head back and closing my eyes. His beautifully flawless face came to me next, his piercing eyes, and his sexy smile.

I heard the water stop a few minutes later, and I tried to compose myself, but my mind was not making it easy on me.

What could have killed my willpower faster than my imagination? When Max strolled into the living room wearing only a pair of plaid lounge pants—yup, that was definitely worse.

“Sweet Jesus,” I gasped under my breath. Max looked at me with a shit-eating grin, and I knew he had heard me.

He winced again as he slowly walked toward me, and a thought popped into my head; maybe I could have the best of both worlds, at least for a couple minutes.

“Got any cream?”

He presented a tube of lotion from the breakfast bar, a confused look on his face. I stretched across the back of the couch and grabbed it from him.

“Why don’t you come over here, and
I'll
give you a massage.”

His eyebrows shot up and pulled together, a look that questioned my sanity. And maybe I was a little crazy for offering, but I couldn’t help myself.

“You sure about that?”

I nodded, completely—or maybe not so much—confident in my resolve to keep this situation PG. I wasn't looking for a new boyfriend, or even a hookup. With my life and my emotions as they were, I was afraid I didn’t have enough in me to make another relationship work. I definitely didn’t want to hurt anyone else. I’m not sure why I was even thinking about all this; maybe it was just his bare chest turning my brain to mush. It’s not like Max was interested in me; I barely knew him. But I liked him, and he was kind to me. Well, that, and he was super hot.

Little did he know, I was a pretty good masseuse; I used to help work out the kinks for Matt, too. See? It was possible to do this without it being sexual, right?

I realized Max was standing beside the couch, watching. “Sorry, I zoned out for a second. You can’t very well massage yourself, now can you? You shouldn’t have skipped it earlier. Y
ou're
going to hurt tomorrow.”

Max walked around and sat on the floor in front of me, nestling in between my legs.

“Maybe, but it will be worth it.”

I exhaled a breath I had been holding and squirted some cream on his shoulder. He jumped a little at the cold. “Sorry,” I murmured.

My body hummed with energy as I began to work his tense shoulder muscle. I put extra effort on a knot there, and Max groaned. “God woman, you have miracle fingers. Where did you learn to do this so well?

“Matt used to get banged up, too.”

Max reached for the remote on the coffee table.

“Hey, stop moving.” I ordered, smacking his shoulder lightly.

His shoulders shook with laughter. “Sorry boss,
I'm
just putting on some music. See, that's much better,” he stated as music began to play.

I worked his shoulders for what must have been ten minutes, listening to music I hadn’t expected to hear. Max appeared to be a fan of classic 50’s & 60’s R&B, and I wasn’t complaining; I’d often thought I had been born in the wrong era.

I leaned back for a moment. His muscles must surely have been worked to the point of going a little numb. “Does anywhere else need to be done?”

His head and eyes flipped quickly around and froze me with a heated stare. “You should be careful what
you're
asking, Mady.”

“Oh, my God, no!” I leaned back further. “Get your head out of the gutter. I was not trying to be dirty.  I was asking if your back hurts anywhere else?”

Max cleared his throat. “Um, yeah, my lower back, actually. I must have gotten twisted. But don’t worry about that, I appreciate what you've done already.”

“Come on, get up.”

Max stood and I followed suit, pointing to my former spot. “Lie down on the couch, face down.”

“You don’t have to...”

“Would you just trust me, please?”

He reluctantly took his place on the couch, and I bumped him with my hip so he would move a little further over. I sat beside him and applied more cream to my hands before digging into his lower back. He let out a long, throaty growl. “Damn, woman. You are amazing. I may have to make you my own personal masseuse for the rest of my days.”

“Oh, stop.” I giggled. “Just think of this as a huge thank you for the help you've given, and will continue to give for the next little while, until I get back on track.”

Max rolled over, sat up, and suddenly the space between us was considerably smaller; he ran his fingers down my cheek, and my breath hitched. “Mady, you don’t need to massage my back to thank me.” Then he smiled. “You can massage me anytime, because that was amazing, but you don’t owe me anything.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Max was looking at me all smolder-y and my stomach was doing flips; I needed to nip this in the bud.

“All done.” I patted his arm as I moved to the other side of the couch and grabbed one of my textbooks.

“Jumpy, Mady?” He looked at me, knowingly.

I tried to play it off, and failed miserably,
I'm
sure. “I just think it’s time to get to studying, since that’s what I came here to do.”