Chapter 11
Lacey
Two nights.
Two nights pass and he never shows back up at my apartment. He doesn’t come to the coffee shop to study. In itself that wouldn’t be unusual since the frequency of his visits dropped back down to a few times a week after we started meeting at my apartment.
My last text show he read them but I never got a response.
The cause for his cold shoulder is obvious. I know I made him uncomfortable by asking him to stay the night. But he was at my apartment fucking me every night. Why was it such a big deal to stay a few hours longer and get some sleep here too? We could have morning sex before class. That sounded like a good way to start the day if you asked me.
By the time he shows up at the coffee shop on the third day I’m fed up. He has the nerve to walk up to the counter smiling like an idiot. I continue to stare at him with a blank look hoping he can see how annoyed I am and stay far away from me.
Don’t want to spend the night? Fine.
Don’t want to date me? Ok. I’m good with that.
Can’t even bother to answer a text asking if you’re ok? Fuck no.
“Hey Lace.”
“Can I help you?” I paste on my best customer service smile along with a matching voice.
“Don’t be like that.”
“Be like what?” I’m beyond annoyed at his nonchalance at this point. “I’ve been worried about you. I see you’re fine though. And your fingers aren’t broken so I’m assuming you didn’t respond to my texts because you just didn’t want to.”
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t have service-”
I scoff at the bold lie.
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
“No. I-”
“Are you going to order something?”
“Damn it. Listen to me. I had to go home to help my dad and brother with a couple things yesterday. It lasted longer than I thought so I crashed at my dad’s. I didn’t get service.”
The tightness in his voice when he mentions his family isn’t lost on me.
“And Sunday night?”
“I thought we needed some space.” He answers with honesty. “But I planned to come back yesterday.” He waits for me to say something and when I don’t he continues on. “I wasn’t…ghosting you or whatever you thought.”
“We would have to be together for me to get ghosted, Max.” I respond with bite. He sighs in return. “I didn’t expect you to come back. I just deserved at least a text so I didn’t worry about you.”
“Angel-”
“Don’t angel me.”
“But-”
I look around the coffee shop at the customers. “I’m at work. I can’t argue with you right now.”
He follows my eyes around the crowded room and drops his voice. “I don’t want to argue at all.”
Outright ignoring him, I busy myself with wiping the counter clean. He sighs again in frustration and stomps over to a table, setting up his laptop and pulling a thick textbook from his backpack.
Customers come and go. Max walks back up to the counter and orders a small milk.
“Who the fuck orders milk at a coffee shop?” I hiss at him quietly as I ring up his ridiculous order.
“Jesus. Is that how you talk to customers?”
“If you don’t drink coffee why the hell do you even come here?”
“The ambiance and exceptional customer service.” He winks at me in a clear attempt to annoy me even more than he already has. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a sailor’s vocabulary?”
“No.”
“Well you do.” He gazes up at the menu with his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels.
“Do you want anything else, sir.” I ask, heavy on the sarcasm. Rather than get irritated back Max just lifts his eyebrows suggestively.
“What kind of coffee would you recommend?”
“Coffee?”
“Yeah. Coffee.”
“Are you fucking with me?”
“I’m sorry. What?” He scrunches his face in mock confusion. “This is a coffee shop… Right?”
He’s radiating with veiled amusement, proud of himself for getting under my skin. A smile cracks at the corners of my mouth and I fight it. It’s an annoyed type of smile, one you get when something is so ridiculous there’s nothing you can think to say. I definitely don’t want to encourage this childish shit.
“I’m being serious though.” His smile warms, ending the game. “Make me a coffee?”
“Ok.” My heart flutters in my chest as our eyes meet. His wordless apology is enough and I give him a small smile back to accept. “What kind?”
“I really don’t know. I’ve only had black before and it was disgusting.”
“Ok. So something sweet?”
“I like sweet.”
“You like cinnamon.” I point out. I made us breakfast for dinner once and he insisted on helping with the French toast, adding extra cinnamon when he thought I wasn’t looking.
“I do.” He agrees, sounding pleasantly surprised at my observation.
I get to work making him a cinnamon latte and hand it to him with a smug smile, knowing he’s going to love it. “Try this.”
He takes a small sip and winces from the burn to his tongue. His face transforms to an amazed expression and the triumph of the moment washes over me. “This is delicious.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am.” He admits. “I really didn’t think I would like it. I only ordered it so you would talk to me. This is actually good. You’re like a bartender…but for coffee.”
I laugh at his statement. It was refreshing to have something to smile about. Now that I had some time to think on what he said I can at least admit to myself that I appreciate Max being honest with me about needing space. There were a lot of guys that would just lie and tell me what I wanted to hear. Then they disappear out of nowhere.
Max didn’t pretend. He spoke his mind and was unapologetic about it. I may not like his answer but I could respect it. At least I didn’t have to worry about him blowing smoke up my ass.
“You want to go somewhere?” His voice held a hint of uncertainty as if he wasn’t sure I would say yes.
Sex. He’s asking for sex. My heart speeds and pulse throbs. A rush of achiness hits me instantly and I squeeze my legs together in uncomfortable anticipation.
Go somewhere was code for fuck me and god did I want to. It was shocking to my senses how badly I wanted to. I simply couldn’t get enough where he was concerned. No sooner than we finished did I want more.
I ask Amy to cover the rest of my shift, knowing the shop wasn’t expected to be busy for the rest of the afternoon. It wasn’t likely I would be missed. Max drives us to the beach much the same as the first night. The sun shines brightly in the sky today. An occasional cloud passes over the sun, shading the sand from the rays of heat for brief moments.
He grabs my hand and leads me to a shady spot hidden from anyone that might be walking along the water’s edge. Our own private nook nestled away from the world around us. We could hear cars driving by and gravel crunching along the main road in the distance. The sound of the waves crashing drowned out the sounds of us making up.
It was amazing. I forgot why I had even been mad at him before. Who could be mad at someone that could make their body clench and tingle the way he could? It was like magic. He could set my body on fire with a simple stroke of his fingertip.
He smothered my cries of pleasure with his mouth, kissing me with enough intensity to shut me up. We didn’t need to scar the children splashing by the water with the sight of us going at it. After I settled my frantic breathing and quieted down he let himself go. I felt him jerk inside me, filling the condom with each spasm.
“I missed you when you were gone.”
I nuzzle into his warm neck and relish in his heat, a sharp contradiction to the chilled sand against my back. The sand underneath the sun had burned my feet but in this shaded spot it felt almost icy. His body stiffened after my admission and I instantly regretted it. My sleepy mind had allowed my mouth to spill that tidbit I would have otherwise kept to myself.
Couldn’t take it back now.
“You did?” He asked softly. His voice sounds far away as I slip into a shallow realm of sleep. He doesn’t sound happy about it but I can’t be sure. I’m too loopy from the beginnings of drifting to sleep.
“Mmhhmmm.” Exhausted and sated, I fight to keep my eyelids open. The shady spot we lay under feels cozy. I roll to my side, deciding it won’t hurt to take a little nap.
He suddenly sits up ramrod, putting distance between us. “I’m not going to date you.”
“Ohhh-kayyy…Should I be offended?” I bite back, suddenly wide awake.
“No.” His expression softens marginally but he remains stoic. Serious. “It’s not you. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s me.”
I snort before I can stop myself. “It’s not you, it’s me.”
He stares back at me and I lift an eyebrow in confrontation. At least he has the decency to look flustered.
“I’m not good enough for you.”
“Cliché.”
“But true.”
“That’s pretty low self-esteem you got there. You look in any mirrors lately?”
“Yes.” A smirk transforms his face and he winks at me. There’s still tightness in his expression and I know he’s worried about my reaction. He’s using humor to soften the blow. To sweeten the soured mood. “This is more…under the surface.”
“Oh?”
“You’re a sweet girl.”
“You’re kind of a sweet guy.”
He chokes on a laugh. “No. I’m not.”
“You helped me get home the night we met.”
“You hardly know me. You wouldn’t still think I was sweet if you did.” He says the word as if it was foreign. Unbelievable. I roll my eyes but decide to let him off the hook.
“Look. I don’t want to date you either.”
“No?” If it was possible he sounded surprised, relieved and a bit disappointed all at the same time.
“Nope. I just like fucking you.”
I shoot him a smirk of my own, adjust my top and walk off down the beach toward his car without a backwards glance, feeling his gaze burning a hole in my back the whole way.