The aroma is enticing and water floods my mouth at the thought of eating whatever is in the pot Max’s mother has placed on the table. She wanders in and out of the kitchen, bringing more items with her. Bread, vegetables, mashed potatoes, and a jug of iced tea.
“We don’t get many visitors these days,” she says, and guilt tickles up my spine. I’d wished her to fall out of her bedroom window when I thought she was being a pest, but she’s just not used to having people around.
“Looks great, Mom,” Max tells her, holding out her chair for her to sit down. He takes a tea towel from her hands and lifts the lid on the cooking pot. Steam carries the scent in the air and my stomach growls in response. Embarrassment lights my cheeks and Max chuckles. It’s rich and from the soul and it makes my heart flutter inside my chest.
He offers me a ladle, grinning down at me, and takes the seat at the head with us either side of him on opposite sides of the table. “Help yourself, dear,” his mom tells me.
And I do, scooping up a full spoonful of stew and adding all the trimmings. It’s a full dinner, not just lunch, and as I shovel the first forkful into my mouth without waiting for them to even serve themselves some food, the blush deepens. I sigh as the warm food slides down and fills the empty space inside my gut. I need to eat more often instead of letting myself get so hungry. It’s not good for my body or mind to not eat.
“So, Max tells me you inherited the house next door?”
Swallowing the food in my mouth, I nod, looking between Max and her, not knowing if he’s told her who I am.
“Awful what happened there. I was never happy that Max befriended you.”
Whack.
Her words puncture me like she’s wielding a knife and not a tongue. I almost choke. Did I hear her right?
Silence hangs in the air and my feet fidget with the need to leave.
So, he has told her who I am. Why wouldn’t she want him to be friends with me? I was an innocent nine-year-old.
“Mother,” Max warns, but she looks perplexed and her small beady eyes fall over me.
“You used to always be down by that water, naked.”
Naked?
At nine?
My appetite fades and mortification replaces it.
“She was a kid, Mother.”
Scoffing, his mom waves her fork in my direction, her dewy, almost translucent skin looks like it could tear with her movements. “Old enough to know what’s appropriate. Your mother was always showing off her body as well. My Graham saw more of her breasts than he did mine.”
Whack.
I’m sure my mouth is agape, hanging on the hinges. My hand clenches into a fist and the urge to grab her and yank her across the table is so strong, my arm jerks.
“Mother!” Max pounds his fist down on the table causing us both to jolt in disbelief.
Excitement and turmoil spin and collide inside me, his tone and raw power making me drip between the thighs. I want him to rip down my panties and fuck me over this table right in front of his mother.
Oh, God. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m not normal. That’s not normal.
“Evi.”
I can hear him saying my name but it’s so hard for me to focus on it and grasp onto reality. The bad thoughts are too strong. I’m envisioning his hard muscles beneath his clothes, his huge hands ripping my clothes to shreds in a frenzied state. Forcing me face down over the table, the food spilling to the floor and the wood grains scratching at my flesh as he kicks my ankles, spreading my legs and ramming me full of his hard, throbbing cock. His mother, mouth wide open, eyes as big as the plates now crashing to the floor.
Yeah. Fuck me, Max. Rough and raw. Cause friction hot enough to spark a flame. How inappropriate am I now, you old hag?
“Evi!” he yells, and I feel his hands on my arms, shaking me. My hold on the fantasy snaps and a fully dressed Max is shaking me in my seat. “Are you having a panic attack?” Concern glows in his eyes.
“No.” My chest is heaving, my breathing labored. Jumping to my feet, I grab a napkin and swipe it across my lips. “Thank you for the food,” I tell the beady eyes glaring at me.
“Please don’t go. You hardly touched your food. Mom, Evi’s family is off limits,” Max growls, and she blinks up at him, all innocent and fragile.
“I meant no offense.”
I want to poke her in the eye with her fork, and I will her to choke on the lump of meat she’s cramming into her loose lips.
“Sit, Evi. Please,” Max says.
Retaking my seat, I pick up the glass Max fills with iced tea and sip the liquid down, hoping it will fan the fire raging inside me.
“So, how old are you now, Evi?”
The atmosphere is temperamental and visions of me swimming back at the lake house make me miss being there.
“I’ve just turned twenty-one.”
“Oh. Happy birthday to you then.” She squints. Her words are bitter and I don’t understand how my nine-year-old self could have offended her so much, unless it’s just the sins of the mother.
“Thank you,” I reply tightly.
“Are you in school?”
I shift in my seat, hating her questions. I’m not in school because I hate being around people. They irritate me. Like her.
“No, I’m not.”
“So what do you do?”
“I own a lake house and spend most of my time there.”
She frowns, producing creases on her forehead to overlap each other. She looks like an over-cooked chicken. “So what do you do for money?”
“Mother,” Max cautions coolly.
Offering him a taut grin, I place my hand on his arm and embrace the energy fluttering in my chest when his mother’s eyes zone in on my touch and her jaw goes rigid.
Oh, naughty Evi is touching your precious son.
“It’s fine, Max. I coach swimming to kids at a nearby campsite where my lake house is. It’s not a lot of money, but I don’t need a lot, and my parents gifted me the house, so it’s paid for.”
Her crinkly brows iron out over her head when they drop low over her eyes. “Parents?” she scoffs, some food spitting from her mouth as she does.
Gross.
“I was adopted by a great couple when I was nine.”
“My Max owns a shop.”
My eyes draw to his to find them boring into me. “Oh really?” I pose the question to him but the annoying voice of his mother carries across the table.
“He works hard and takes care of things around here. He has a wonderful girlfriend who I hope will be giving me grandchildren soon.”
Her words are like ice water being doused over my head. It shouldn’t matter, I have Garret, but it’s as if any color in the room has been switched off and grey is the only thing that exists. Everything inside me crashes down and reminds me how alone I am.
The food turns sour on my tongue and Max’s gaze burns, but not in the pleasant way it did before.
Irrational, Evi.
“Well, that’s wonderful for you, Max. Thanks again for feeding me but I really should be going.”
“So soon?” she chirps, and I imagine the drink she sips on is acid and it melts her throat. She’s trying to scream but her voice box is being eaten and corroded as she does.
“I’ll walk you,” Max tells me, getting to his feet. I want to tell him to not be stupid. It’s next door not the next town over, but the hateful, bitter lady at the table doesn’t want me to spend alone time with her precious son and that keeps my lips firmly shut.
The day has turned colder and there are grey clouds looming, threatening us with rain.
“Evi!” Max calls my name to slow me down. I hadn’t realized I’d practically run back to the house I now own.
“My mother can be hard work. I thought once my father was out of the way she would find herself again, but instead she became dependent on me.”
“Where is your father?”
His jaw tightens. I want to tell him it’s okay but I don’t.
“We moved here because he was offered work doing construction on the new mall they were going to build here, but investments fell through and the work dried up so fast it sent most people into a tailspin.”
The curtain behind him twitches and I know his horrid mother is spying; why do people always like to spy on me?
I stand closer to him, reaching up and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “He left you.”
His strong arms wrap around my waist, pinning my body to his, and my approval lifts the corners of my mouth. He smells so good. “It was a good thing. He was violent towards my mom, and he was a drinker. She gave up her career as a nurse for him and he still hated her.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. And I mean it for him, not for her. Who wouldn’t hate her?
It must have been hard on him becoming the man of the house.
“You shouldn’t stay in that house alone.” His gruff voice tickles over my ear and I pull away and fold my arms over my chest.
“I’ll be fine. Haven’t you got a girlfriend to get back to?” I punch at his arm in a playful manner, but it’s awkward and I regret it straight away.
He takes a quick glimpse over his shoulder at his mother’s house and then whispers, “There’s no girlfriend. She moved out of state six months ago, I just don’t have the heart to tell mom.”
“That’s a little pathetic.” I’m amused and relieved, although I have no right to be.
He flinches, a small blush creeping up his neck, his large hand rubbing over the back of his collar with his eyes cast down to his feet.
“She wasn’t even my girlfriend. She worked for me but my mother is…”
“Pushy?” I finish for him.
“Intrusive. Yes, very pushy. She only has me and she had me late in life so she’s paranoid that she won’t make it to see grandchildren.” His strong, square jaw flexes as he swallows, gaining my attention. “Come back to my place. Shower, sleep. I’ll bring you back here tomorrow and help you get the power fixed and get it in a condition fit for purpose if that’s what you want to do.”
Why is he so worried about me? How close were we as kids?
Alone at night with him in his place.
Thud…
Thud…
Thud…
I could use a hot shower and somewhere to charge my cell phone.
“Okay.” I nod in agreement and have to steady myself when his eyes dance, and flecks of gold twinkle from the darker shades.
“Okay, good. Let’s get your stuff.”
Going inside, I point to my suitcase and he makes a tutting sound and shakes his head. “Just take what you’ll need for tonight.”
My mouth pops open and I place my hand on my hips. “I don’t want to leave anything here in case someone breaks in.”
“Who’s going to break in here?” he asks, like I’m being utterly ludicrous.
“I don’t know. Maybe vandals or trespassers looking to give themselves a fright. Why would your mother be so on guard when I arrived if it wasn’t a possibility?”
Pursing his lips, he folds his arms over his chest and they bulge and strain as he does. My eyes focus on the veins popping over his forearms and my stomach bottoms out. I want his hands on me, those fingers inside me. Those puckered lips that are curling at the edges right now to be kissing every inch of my body.
Dirty Evi.
“Evi, what are you thinking about?” he asks, his eyes hooding.
“I’m thinking, why does he want me to not bring clothes with me.”
“I didn’t say don’t bring clothes. Just bring enough for a night.”
“Why?” My voice is so breathy I know I’m giving away that I’m wanton. A needy, dirty girl.
Pushing his hand through his wild, untamed mane, I think about tugging on the strands while he drives into me. Rough, hard. Punishing me.
He’s moving towards me and I’m going to freaking faint. I’ve never felt anything so powerful before. Not with Garret, not with Edward. No one.
Palms cup my cheeks, holding my face up to his. “You can’t keep looking at me like this. I can practically smell your fucking need and it’s going to drive me insane. Look at you. Damn, Evi. You were always beautiful, even as a child, but God, the woman you’ve evolved into… you’re remarkable.”
“I’m damaged,” I whisper without thought.
Smiling down at me, he speaks with affection, making love to each word. “Frayed at the edges maybe. The colors distorted. But still a masterpiece.”
His words are raw and I’m going to combust.
He spins me suddenly, facing me to look out of the front window. I wobble on unsteady feet. I’m dizzy and confused until his arm points over my shoulder towards the front of his mother’s house. A black motorbike is parked there. “That’s why you can only bring a few things,” he whispers into my ear.
Well, shit.
“I can’t ride on that with you.” I balk.
“You’ll be fine.”
Spinning back to face him, I shake my head vehemently. “No, Max. I’ll fall off that thing.”
Biting down on his lip to stop himself laughing, he taps his hand down on the suitcase. “Just pack light.”