Chapter 7

Lia

The atmosphere at Jimney’s the following night was far more relaxed and normal than the previous one. The only real difference? Maxwell sat at the end of the bar, quietly observing everything around him—and watching me with those dark, protective eyes at the same time. I suspected he was there to play bodyguard in case those guys came back, but he didn’t talk to me, just silently sipped his one beer, closed off and contemplative.

Having him so close was unnerving. Especially since all I could think about doing was pulling him back into that storage room and figuring out more ways I could reimburse him for his bail money or his misguided savior duties. The trouble was, all the scenarios I could come up with had to do with the two of us getting naked. Which I was ninety-nine percent sure he would be okay with—just not for the reason I would have wanted.

Max loved the art of sex, not me.

“You’ve got an admirer.” Aubrey nudged me in the ribs, probably trying to get back in my good graces.

Over and over, she claimed ignorance about Travis, saying she had no idea the two of us were together. That could’ve been true, since he’d never bothered to come to Jimney’s until that night. But my bitterness kept me from forgiving Aubrey. Besides that, I knew her type—the fake, convenient friend who only wanted one thing: to rule the roost and be the queen bee of all things in life, not to mention Jimney’s. What she didn’t know was that I didn’t want this job. I was here to make some tips and pay off some bills, nothing more. And Travis was all hers as far as I was concerned.

“He’s a friend.” I pursed my lips and poured a few shots.

“A very hot friend.”

“He doesn’t date.” So quick to lay claim there, Lia. My lip curled. I really hated myself sometimes.

“No way,” she gasped, leaning her hip against the counter. “I bet I could get him to.”

I laughed hard, not even bothering to cover it up. “You’re kidding, right?” I glared at her. Her gaze was piercing as she stared over my shoulder at him.

“What?” She licked her lips. “I’m hot enough.”

“Yeaaaah.” Disgust washed over my tongue, making my mouth dry.

“And maybe I don’t want to date either. Maybe it’s time I try a new tactic.”

I snorted. “Oh, you mean like what you did with Travis? That kind of tactic?” I rolled my eyes, filling a cup with ice only to slam it on the bar top. “You’ve got some nerve—”

Before the rest of my sentence was even out of my mouth, she moved around me, ignoring the four new customers who’d made their way to the bar, and headed straight for Max. A glutton for punishment, I followed her as discreetly as I could with my gaze. No doubt Max would be all-in when it came to Aubrey. She was a perfect specimen of a woman, and likely the one to get him to disown the idea of abstinence.

Really, though, what did I care if the two of them hooked up? Just because I had this ridiculous crush on the guy didn’t mean it’d ever turn into anything. I wasn’t his type, for one. Then there was the case of my brother beating his ass if he so much as thought about kissing me. There again, he was still alive, and we had kissed.

I mean, it wasn’t even that good of a kiss. Not life altering in any sense, even though it was hot and new and…nice. And the way I kept thinking about how obviously skilled Max was with his tongue and his hands didn’t mean squat. If anything, the kiss had been messy and rushed. Too hard, like neither of us could get enough.

Ugh. Who was I trying to kid? I’d loved every single moment of that storage room kiss. I wanted to do it again—over and over and over. In fact, there’s no way I’d ever be able to go back into that closet without thinking about that kiss. Remembering the way he smelled, the way he tasted. The way he’d bitten down on my lips and grabbed my—

“You gonna get my drink anytime soon, lady?”

I blinked, staring at the keg as beer flowed over my wrist and down the drain.

“Shit, sorry.” I yanked the glass back and grabbed a rag to wipe off the sides.

“Yeah, whatever.” Rude Man dropped his money on the counter, and because I couldn’t help myself, I glanced over at Max and Aubrey again.

My heart skipped at the sight of him laughing over something she said. I wasn’t jealous. That achy throb in the base of my throat just meant I was content with what I was seeing. Aubrey leaned over the bar, the top of her shirt gaping wide open. Max grinned at her before glancing down said shirt.

My fingers shook against my side as I moved down the bar to take another drink order. A cute guy in his mid-thirties asked for a rum and Coke. I took his order, smiled, and flirted, pretending that what was happening to my left did not make me want to throw up in my mouth.

“Thanks, sweetie.” His hand settled on top of mine. “What do you say you and I spend some time together after your shift?” He licked his lips.

Resisting the urge to shudder, I said, “Thanks, but I’m seeing someone.”

“Don’t see him anywhere around now. I’m sure I can show you a good time.” He winked, and I tugged my hand back harder, only to have his nails bite into my skin.

There were two ways this could go: (a) I could motion Joe Bob over and make him take care of this grabby ass, or (b) I could handle it with grace and dignity—and a pressure point along the neck with my forefinger and thumb.

“Let go.” I readied my free hand for option B and scanned the room. Joe Bob was outside, his dark, bald head the only thing I could see through the dimmed-out glass door.

“That’s no way to treat your customers, now is—”

He fell back, his stool crashing to the floor. Max was there, his arm around the guy’s neck and his eyes like a Category 5 hurricane. “Leave. Now,” he hissed through clenched teeth. The power emanating from his tall form was like a shot of lightning on a pitch-black night.

“He’s not interested.” Aubrey casually leaned against me with a huff, as though there wasn’t a fight ready to break out five feet in front of us.

“What the hell are you talking about?” My gaze frantic, I glanced back and forth between her and Max and the guy he had pinned to the wall.

Before she could answer, Joe Bob came storming into the bar.

“No, no, no, no. Not again!” I raced out from behind the bar, déjà vu fierce, just in time for Joe Bob’s elbow to collide with Max’s eye as he stepped in between the pair.

Max fell to the floor, completely off balance, bringing a table along with him.

I dropped to my knees beside him. “God, Max, don’t you ever just mind your own business?” I tilted his head back to get a better look at his face, cringing at his already swollen lid.

“You’re still talking to me…” He grinned at me like there wasn’t a chance his eye socket was shattered.

“You just got punched in the face, and this is what you’re asking me?” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“He hurting you, Lia?”

I shook my head at Joe Bob. “No, he was protecting me. The other guy though…” I glanced around to look for the asshole, but he was nowhere to be found.

Max touched my chin and pulled my gaze back to meet his. “You good, Lee-Lee?”

God, I both loved and hated his nickname for me.

“I should be asking you the same thing.” I tugged him to his feet and turned toward Joe Bob. “And you elbowed the wrong guy.”

Joe Bob ran his beefy hand over his face. “Sorry, man.” He looked at Max, who nodded, far too relaxed for his own good.

Max laced his fingers through mine. A jolt of electricity traveled up my arm at the intimate touch, but I ignored it and pulled him behind me. Along the way, I took off my apron and filled it with ice behind the bar, tying the ends together with the extra hair tie hanging around my wrist. It was the only time I let go of his hand.

“In here.” I motioned for Max to go first into Patricia’s office, and then shut the door behind us.

“Big guy in there’s got quite the elbow shot.” Max chuckled and propped himself up on top of the desk.

I frowned and moved closer to press the makeshift ice pack to his eye. He winced but didn’t push me away. “He was just doing his job.” The skin around his eye was already an ugly red and swollen. But what bothered me the most was the nonchalant smile on Max’s lips the entire time he sat there looking at me. I shifted from foot to foot, unnerved as always by being this close to him.

“You’ve got to stop doing this.” I finally took a step back.

He took over the ice duties, a scowl on his face. “Stop what, protecting you? This place is a piece of garbage, and I don’t get why you subject yourself to this when—”

“At least I have a job.” I huffed and looked down at the black-and-white tile, too chicken to watch his reaction.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“It means at least I’m trying to…you know, make something of myself.”

His lip curled. “By working here.”

I nodded, suddenly defenseless.

“You’re kidding me, right?” His words angry, cold. Not at all what I expected.

“What’s there to kid about? I mean, God knows you don’t take the initiative to keep a job for longer than a month.”

Besides his lack of life motivation, Max didn’t understand what it was like to have to work for money. From what I’d learned over the course of the past year, he was swimming in cash since his father’s death. Always aloof, Max never took anything seriously. Never seemed to want to make something of himself either. He lived in his own personal state of fuck off ninety percent of the time. Whether it mattered or not, I hated that about him, especially when I knew that, deep down, he really was a smart, funny, incredible guy with loads of potential to do whatever he wanted, be whatever he wanted.

I looked up from the floor, finding fire in his eyes and a cruel tilt to his lip that had me cringing.

“You have no idea what I’ve been through in life.” He stood, the wood of the desk creaking beneath him. “Like, how I lived on the streets of Nashville for nearly a year with my ma just so we didn’t have to fucking stay with an abusive, alcoholic father?” He dropped the ice on the desk and the apron split open, letting pieces fall and scatter on the floor.

I cringed, regret sucker punching me square in the stomach. “I didn’t know.” I reached for his arm, but he jerked away. “I’m sor—”

“You also didn’t know that I dropped out of high school just so I could get a job and help take care of my mama.”

I stared at his chest and then focused my shame on the floor once more. He wore a pair of leather-strapped flip-flops, khaki shorts, and a dark-blue polo tonight. He was the epitome of a relaxed guy with no issues. Yet everything he was telling me contradicted that impression.

Did I not know the real Max after all?

“Then there was the time my father beat me so bad I wound up in the hospital for three days. Had to get my jaw wired shut, but I didn’t dare say what happened for fear he’d hurt Ma worse than me.”

“Max, please—” Tears clouded my vision.

“Doesn’t matter.” He looked past me toward the wall. “You’ve passed judgment. No point in revoking it when I know how you really feel.” He crunched through the ice mess on the floor as he headed toward the door. I watched, my eyes dripping tears as I imagined the cold cubes beneath his feet becoming my heart.

“Max, wait.” I held my breath.

He stopped, one hand curled over the doorknob.

I counted to five in my head, trying to gain the courage I needed to speak. A simple I’m so sorry or I didn’t know or even You never mentioned that to me before would’ve been perfect. Yet before I could say anything, he turned back around to face me, his eyes filled with regret as he said, “I won’t be back after tonight. Trust me.”

I leaned my head against the wall and stared up at the lights for a good five minutes after he was gone. There, I cried for Maxwell, for the boy who’d gone through so much. Then I cried for my own idiot self. For my hardened heart and inability to hold back my anger. I hated who I’d become these last five years. Hated that I couldn’t be old me and new me combined. Old me never would have said the things I did to Maxwell. Old me would have had a heart, been open and understanding… Old me wouldn’t have passed judgment.

Then again, old me had nearly ruined her—our—life.