Falling for Fangs - Page 89

Maxwell

TheRangeRoverglided over the winding road through the mountains, headlights beaming out onto the barren asphalt.

Maxwell hadn’t even bothered to put any music on. What was the point? It wasn’t like music would cheer him up. Even Ella Fitzgerald didn’t have a chance tonight.

He looked in the rear-view mirror at his trunks and suitcases that filled the boot and cluttered up the backseat. He reached for the pocket watch that was no longer around his neck and sighed. Instead, he pulled the pocket square from his jacket, holding it to his face for just a moment. Was he ever going to be able to get over Chloe? It didn’t seem likely.

As Maxwell rounded a corner, something fell from the sky onto his windshield. A snowflake. Just a tiny snowflake, but he could see the delicate crystal pattern for just a moment before his windscreen wipers kicked into gear, wiping it away to clear his view.

“Chloe hates snow,” he said softly. He’d never be able to look at a snowflake again without thinking of her.

Abruptly, Maxwell pulled the car off the road and into someone’s long driveway. He sat there for a few moments, watching the snowflakes collect once more on his windscreen.

“I’ve got to tell her.” His voice was oddly loud in the silent car. “I have to tell her. If I don’t try, I’m always going to regret it.” He reversed carefully, turning the car around to drive back through the mountains, back to Crowley Lake. Back to Chloe. He had no idea how his declaration would be received, but he couldn’t leave without telling her the truth. Without laying his heart on the line, for once in his long life.

He was going back.

Maxwell, fire burning in his veins, hadn’t been driving back for very long when he spotted a very familiar blue Civic on the horizon. Chloe’s car, no doubt about it. He felt his insides squeeze with nervous excitement; was it possible that she had come after him? Even if it was just to say goodbye?

He flashed his lights, pulling off the road towards an empty field. The Range Rover cleared the rocks and grass easily and came to a stop. He got out quickly, waving at Chloe’s car frantically, but the sedan was already slowing, turning, pulling up beside the Range Rover.

When Chloe got out, Maxwell felt a brief stab of hope. She was wearing the green dress, and she looked even more beautiful in it than he had imagined.

“Chloe,” Maxwell said, all of his tumbling emotions coming out into her name. “I…I turned around. I couldn’t leave without talking to you. There are things I need to say.”

“You turned around,” Chloe repeated, taking a step towards him. She didn’t even seem to notice that snow was already beginning to collect on the ground, probably soaking her feet in their patent leather heels. She must be freezing, he thought. But she wasn’t even shivering.

“I did,” Maxwell said. He closed the distance between them, taking her hands in his. “I was a coward for leaving without telling you…” He paused, shaking his head. “For leaving without telling you how I really feel about you. For letting you think this was just a casual thing. It never was. Not for me, anyway.”

Chloe took a sharp breath, her eyes glistening as she looked up at him. He could see she had been crying, but it didn’t make her any less beautiful. Not to him.

“I was a goner from the start when I met you,” Maxwell said, his voice fighting against the howling wind. “The more time I spent with you, the more I knew that I wanted you to be in my life. By my side. Always. And I tried to fight it because I’ve never felt like that about anyone before. I thought I just wasn’t cut out for it, and maybe that was true. Until I met you, anyway.”

“Maxwell,” Chloe’s voice was almost drowned out by the wind. She reached up a hand to tousle the tiny hairs on the back of his neck. Her touch was like the warmth of the sun, except it wasn’t deadly. It felt like she was bringing him back to life.

“I know that being with someone like me isn’t what you want for your life,” Maxwell’s words were stumbling now; they hurt to say. “I know that. But Chloe, I have to tell you. I’m in love with you, and I want to be with you always. If there’s even a tiny chance that you might one day feel like you could—”

But Chloe cut him off with a swift kiss, her lips pressing against his even as she let out a sob. He wrapped her up in his arms, pressing her warm body into his, combing his fingers through her hair, drinking in the sweet smell of her. His Chloe, right where she belonged.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he said when she finally pulled back, her eyes bright in the moonlight with unshed tears. “I know you don’t want to turn, to be with me. And I knew I couldn’t stand to stay in Crowley Lake and watch you move on, one day, with someone else. Someone human. And I thought it was better if I just left, and I’m sorry if that hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe began, shaking her head so that snowflakes fell from her hair. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t want anything serious with you. I was trying to protect myself because I didn’t think you’d ever really care for me. I mean, you’ve known so many women—”

“No one like you, Chloe,” Maxwell said firmly. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone else.”

“I didn’t want you to know that I was falling for you,” Chloe went on, her arms still around him. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you pitying me. You know I hate being pitied.” She let out a short laugh, tossing her hair again. “And then, when you told me you were leaving, I thought I was right. That you didn’t really care.”

“No,” Maxwell protested. “I care so much.”

“And that was when I realised it was too late,” Chloe whispered. “Too late to protect myself because I wasn’t falling anymore. I was already in love with you.”

At her words, Maxwell felt like he was soaring, floating, flying above the snowy ground. “Chloe, do you really—”

Tags: Rhiannon Hartley Fantasy
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