Until the Last Breath - Page 38

“That’s a surprise.”

“No games today, alright? I have to be back before John gets home, Max.”

“Tessa said he wouldn’t be off until after ten tonight.”

“Yeah, but knowing John, he’ll try to get off earlier just to check in on me.”

“Man,” Max said, chuckling, “that guy doesn’t let up, does he? Maybe he’s the reason you can’t breathe. All that damn smothering.”

Max continues his laugh, walking ahead of me.

Normally I would join in with him, but this time I don’t. I’m quiet for a long time, staring at him as he unlocks his car doors. When he’s inside the car, I’m still standing outside, stepping back with my thumbs tucked beneath the straps of my backpack.

Realizing my hesitancy, Max hops out of the car again and looks over the top of it at me. “Shannon? What’s wrong?”

“You’re making me think that I should just stay home.” I turn back for my house.

I hear his car door slam shut and his feet carrying across the pavement. He catches me, spinning me around to face him. “Did I offend you?”

“It would have offended him too.”

“I…that wasn’t my intention. It was a joke.”

“I don’t think me not being able to breathe is something to joke about. That was a horrible thing to say—a very ignorant thing to fucking say, Max. John does not smother me.”

He swallows hard, scratching the top of his head. “I’m sorry.” His eyes are full of shame, guilt.

I sigh, shifting on my feet. That look. I remember that damn look. Those eyes and how they instantly make you feel sorry for him, even when he’s in the wrong.

The sad thing about this is I’m still weak for Max in some ways. I’m mostly weak for him because we’ve been through so much. There’s so much that people don’t know about us. Yes, we split up years ago, but there are reasons behind it—big reasons that are hard to talk about.

“Let me make it up to you,” Max offers, stepping back.

“How?”

“By taking you somewhere special. Somewhere I’m sure you haven’t been in a while.”

I thin my eyes at him. “I’m pretty sure I already have an idea of where that place might be.”

“Maybe you do. Maybe you don’t. You wanna find out?”

I look back at my house, studying the forest green door, and then putting my attention on him. “Fine.” I point a finger at him. “But no funny business, Mister Grant, and I mean it.”

“Yeah, I know,” he says, smiling over his shoulder. He walks to his car and pulls the passenger door open for me. I move past him in my sandals, sliding onto the warm leather seats. When he’s behind the steering wheel, buckling up and starting the ignition I can’t help noticing the mischievous smile on his lips.

What is this man up to?

SEVENTEEN

Past

Four Years Ago

It was June 16th, Max’s twenty-fifth birthday and we were five months into dating. Everything was perfect, from him showing up at my doorstep with boxes of popcorn, chocolate and wine (because I didn’t care for flowers back then), to me showing up at his place, wearing nothing but a foxy trench coat with sexy lingerie underneath.

I’d just clocked out of Capri. Of course Max was off, taking the night lightly. Although he was spending his Tuesday night at home, I knew he was most likely getting drunk with a few friends, having a ball in his so called bachelor pad.

“What are you gonna do for him tonight?” Quincy asked as I slid my arms into my jacket at the bar.

I shrugged, tossing my hair over my shoulder. “I’m not sure. I bought a cake and some movies. He claims he doesn’t want to do much but watch them with me.” I pick up my satchel. “I guess that’s the plan.”

“That’s all, huh?” Quincy looked sideways at me as he topped off a martini with a swirled lemon peel.

“Yep. I think we’re past the constant sex phase. We’ve reached a new milestone. Eating junk food, cuddling, watching movies, and if it so happens that our clothes end up being tossed aside and we’re naked, so be it.”

Quincy sighs, pouting his bottom lip. “You have no idea how much I wish for that. The men I meet are so fucking inconsistent.”

He rolls his eyes at the thought, handing his drink to the young woman waiting at the end of the bar with a twenty-dollar bill in hand. He accepts the bill graciously and she prances off.

“It’ll come,” I tell him. “Don’t rush it.”

He groaned. “Oh, I’m rushing it. I need a man. Like, right now.”

I turned and laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Q.”

“See ya, babe!”

I pushed out of the back door, unlocking my car manually and climbing in. After stopping by my apartment to pick up the cake, balloons, and movies, I gave Max a call. He didn’t answer so I left a quick voicemail.

Tags: Shanora Williams Romance
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