Pure Illusion (6 page)

“Are y’all together?”

“Are we
ever
together? He said I
didn’t exist.”

“You exist alright. You’re the most
luminous thing in here. He’s just mad because he can’t have you. No one can
because of him. Let’s get you nice and warm.”

Deep Trouble

   Max lives in a cozy cabin
out in the boonies. Max and Hunter are alike when it comes to their space. They
like their privacy or maybe just isolation. Slouching on the one of the big
chocolate-colored leather couches, I look around in awe. Every piece of
furniture and fixture is rustic with earthly tones of various shades of browns.

I convinced him to blast music on the
Zen music channel on Direct TV. He slouches on the couch, smiling from
ear-to-ear and watches me dance like a creature freakish from nature in the
center of his living room.

“Can you imagine the world without hate
and envy?” I make a peace sign with my two fingers and hold it out to Max’s
face. He nods and grins. Closing my eyes, I and toss my head back. “Peace in
love, Max. Peace and love. That’s all the world needs. That’s all I ever
wanted.”

I jump up and down. A sleek sheen of
sweat coats my skin. I spin and twirl so fast I stumble backwards and trip over
my own legs.

“Whoa!” I push myself up with my hands
before Max can offer to help me. “The room is spinning.”

Max’s hands slide around the sides of my
back, leading me to the couch. “I think you should sit down. I’m no expert on
X, but you’ve been dancing for two hours straight.”

I shake my head because I see four
Max’s. They’re all frowning at me. I blink a few times and then my sight
adjusts as the other blurry Max’s fade away. “I’m thirsty.”

He cups my face, running his fingers
down my flushed skin, causing me to shudder. He peels the sparkly confetti off
my face.
“Water?”

“Do you have hot chocolate with the big
marshmallows?”

“Yeah.
Rest for a
while. I’ll be back in a sec, okay?”

I nod, looking into his eyes. Max has
the most amazing eyes. They’re a dark violet, but if you pay closer attention
you can see that his eyes are also laced with some kind of striking silver
color.
Absolutely spectacular.
Max’s father emigrated
from Iraq and moved to America, settled in Cherry Creek, North Carolina and
married a lucky, stunning local woman.

Max is really, extremely, ridiculously
good-looking.

He’s a…dream.   

He disappears from my view.

My head falls back on the leather
cushion, and I sway as a familiar song comes on. My mom loved eastern music and
she loved this song.

“My mama loved this song,” I confess to
the air. “She loved to cook dinner every night for Daddy, Tyler and me. She
played this song sometimes when she cooked. She cooked a lot. She really liked
this song.”

“It’s a great song,” Max replies,
pushing a warm mug against my hands.

I open my eyes and take the white mug
overflowing with a mountain of puffy marshmallows. I sip steaming, rich,
delicious coco from the mug and moan. My eyes squint as I read the tiny black
words going around the white mug decorated with red hearts and colorful
squiggly lines. “Somebody loves you.”

He sighs and uncomfortably scratches his
short hair. “It was a gift from…Lily.”

I glance at him, my brows pulled together.
“Lily Adams?”

His eyes shift to a fixed space
somewhere behind my head.
“Yeah.
She got it for my
twenty–third birthday.”
Which was earlier this year.
June sixth, I think. It’s now early December. From what I understand, he broke
it off with Lily. They seemed to be very in love the last time I saw them
shopping in the square in the little boutique stores. He didn’t hold her hand.
He had her
tucked
into his side, arm curled around her waist while his
free hand clutched little pink and blue bags. They were laughing about
something.

“You’re not over her,” I state.

His turbulent eyes gradually come back
to me. “You never really get over anyone, as time passes they just seem like a
dream or something. I love her.”

“She’s really kind and smart. Wasn’t she
voted The Nicest Person in Cherry High?”

He gives me a slight nod. Then stands
abruptly, walking into the kitchen.

I stare down at the hot chocolate in my
hands at a loss of words.

I think I hit a nerve.
         

Max saunters out the kitchen with a beer
bottle in his hand and my phone in the other. He tossed off his uniform shirt
revealing his white undershirt and the top button of his pants undone. He flops
down beside me, staring down at my phone and grinning. “I am having too much
fun with Hunter. He is so pissed right now. The dude might have a heart
attack.”

I continue to gawk him as I fold my legs
underneath myself. I sit the coco down on the table. The warm, fuzzy feeling
has amplified by a billion. It’s like tiny vibrations are pulsing throughout my
body and soft feathers caressing my skin at once. Max’s skin looks so soft. I
want to touch him. I want him to touch me. He talks, but I can’t comprehend
what he’s saying. It’s like everything but the sound of my frantic heart is
muted. He takes a swig of his beer, laughing, still looking down at the phone
in his hand.

Leaning forward, I place a hand on his
knee.

His eyes suddenly flicker up to me. For
a moment, we just stare at one another.

I slide my hand up his thigh and squeeze
his groin that hardens instantly. “I hurt Max. You hurt, too. Love me.”

He opens his mouth and then shuts it. He
does this several times.

I squeeze him again. “Max, love me.”

He grunts, low and grumbling.

I unfold my legs and straddle his lap. My
hand shifts down his pants, inside his boxers. I hold his scorching hot
erection in my hand, my fingers aren’t long enough to wrap fully around. He’s
large and so hard.

“
Fucking shit
,” he groans, eyes
glossing over. “Isabel, you have no idea how hot you look right now. But you’re
high and you’re gonna be buzzin’ for a while. I wanna love you, I do, really.
It’s not right, though. I’d feel guilty about it later. I like you and you’d
hate me forever for taking advantage.”

His warm breath fans across my heated
face. His breath smells amazing like beer and sweet cotton candy. I want to
taste him. Licking my dry lips, I incline forward, pressing my body against
his.

He flinches back. “You should let me go,
Isabel. I already feel like shit for not fighting your advances. I was just
messin’ with Hunter’s head when I said I was going to keep you nice and warm.”

“I know what I want,” I whisper,
gripping him rougher and kissing his cheek. “Love me. It’s alright. You can use
me. I’m a whore tonight. I can be
your
whore.”

He inhales sharply. Seeing an open
opportunity, I make my move and slam my mouth down on his. He’s resistant at
first, staying completely still and not returning my kisses, attempting very
hard not to enjoy the way I caress him. This doesn’t deter me, though. I kiss
him harder and squeeze his erection tighter, my hand gliding up and down his
length. I feel like a sex-crazed animal, deprived of everything Max has to
offer. Then, slowly, I feel his muscles unclench and go lax and his breathing
quickens.

“Stop jerking me. I’m gonna come. I
can’t come when you’re like this. It’ll haunt me forever,” he says quietly.
This is really bothering him. I feel like a rapist trying to coax him into
unknown awaiting dangers.

I groan and roll off him. “I’m so horny.
It feels like I’m going to die if I don’t have an orgasm.”

Conflicting emotions clash over his face
as he stares at me. He shoves his hand through his short hair, releasing a long
breath. “I’m sorry, Isabel. But I can’t. I really, really,
really
want
to. I want to so bad it fucking hurts.
Seriously
.
My dick has never been harder. But I can’t. Not while you’re in La-La Land.” He
puts his beer on the wooden table and tosses my phone on the empty cushion next
him. “Stay here. Don’t leave. I need a cold shower.
Feels
like my skin is on fire.”

“You’re not the only one,” I mutter
under my breath. “I can probably fuck the entire football team at Cherry High
and still be unsatisfied.”

He eyes me suspiciously,
then
stands, holding out his hand. “Come on. Get up. I don’t
trust you alone. Only God knows what you might do next.”

Max told me to stay seated on the sink
counter as he showers. He told me to face the door so I wouldn’t be tempted to
join him, but once he started showering I couldn’t help myself. If I can’t touch
him, I have to see him. The glass walls of the shower don’t obscure due to the
temperature of the water, which is ice-cold. His nudity isn’t covered by
anything. I can watch him with absolute clarity. His body is beautifully built,
all ripped muscle, a football player’s body. Not one ounce of fat anywhere. My
mouth goes dry as tiny rivulets of water flow over his brown skin, taut muscle,
and powerful back.

“You were humming a second ago. It
sounded nice. Can you sing to me?” Max asks, rinsing the soapsuds from his
body.

I nod and turn my gaze to his black
fuzzy slippers on the white tiled floor.

My
little moon-pie, you make me so brave

My
little moon-pie, you make me so strong

My
little moon-pie, I sing you this song to remember me when I am gone.

Never
forget that I love you so much

Even
the days when you’re crying and making a fuss

Your
big green eyes always give me a rush

There
is no one like my sweet little moon-pie.

I
pray for my little moon-pie every morning and night

God
answered back with a bundle of delight

Two
of his angels from heaven took flight

And blessed me with two more little
moon-pies.

Mommy
loves you more than hearing the sound of her own heartbeat.

And
always remember that after I die.

I
love you my sweet little moon-pie.

I finish the lullaby my mother sang for
me when I was younger. She was pregnant with Tyler when she first sang that to
me. I never noticed how sad it is until now.

“That’s kinda gloomy, Isabel.”

Max’s black, fuzzy slippers get blurry
from the tears in my eyes. They burn but I don’t allow them the fall. “Life is
gloomy, Max. We, humans, live, fight, love, and die. Who knows what happens
after we die. Our lifespan is so short. Will I experience anything beautiful
ever? There is only tragedy and pain in my life. Tyler was beautiful. No. Tyler
was beyond beautiful. He was the reason I wanted to breathe.”

“I’m sorry.”

I screw my eyes shut, holding the edges
of the sink countertop, my breathing heavy. The pain, it hurts to a degree I
can’t withstand. I can’t survive it. I have to force myself to take big gulps
of thick, moist air to calm down. “Don’t, Max. You didn’t
know
him. If
you did, you probably would have made his life a living hell like your brother,
Rex. He, Rex, was one of many people who made my Tyler,
my Tyler
,
jump
off The Suicide Bridge. The entire football team
hated
him…” I trail off, pressing the hysterical wail deep down inside my chest.

“I
am
sorry, Isabel. You’re
right, I didn’t know him. But from what I
saw
, he was a good kid, a kind
kid. He helped Mrs. Franklin go grocery shopping every Sunday after church.
Everyone knows she’s an old, mean, hateful woman. But Tyler
never
missed
one Sunday.”

I open my eyes to find his hazy lilac
eyes on me. My gaze wanders over his incredible body, more than liking what I
see. “You have freckles on your back. Can I count them?” I need to change the
subject and quick. Thinking of Tyler is too much to bear right now.

I’m still too raw.

Maybe someday I can deal.

But not now.

He gives me a concerned glance, then
snorts, squeezing a drop of shampoo in his palm and then places the dark blue
bottle back on the rack. “Is that a pick up line?”

“Maybe.
I don’t know,
but I am actually being genuine. You have an extremely gorgeous back.”

He gives me a wary sideways glance over
his shoulder. That look says so many things. There is relief, confidence, and
pain. “Thanks, Pumpkin.” He closes his eyes and massages the gel into his hair,
forming a thick lather. The aroma of rich, spicy musk explodes all around me.

Possessed by the masculine scent, I jump
off the counter. When I try to reach him, I’m quickly snatched away. My body
collides with a hard one, making a heavy thudding noise.