I run down the checklist of things to do, and I mark off the ones that are done. I still need to talk to Bella’s teacher at camp and let her know Bella will be getting a ride from her father or her uncle for the rest of the week.

I walk into the kitchen and open the freezer again to make sure everything is labeled. I prepared all the meals that Bella normally eats and froze them in single-serve portions for her. I know she can get picky when her schedule is thrown off, and I want to make sure she has her choice of options available to her.

“Care to join me for a late meal?” I whirl around and see Max standing behind me. It’s well past midnight, and although he’s in his pajamas, he doesn’t look like he was sleeping. In fact, judging by his hair, he looks like he’s been up, raking his fingers through it.

“I’m not hungry, actually,” I say, letting the freezer door swing shut.

Max opens the door once I move aside and raises his eyebrows at the stash inside. He gives a low whistle. “That’s a lot of food.” He picks up one container and looks at the label. He grabs another and examines that one, too. “Are these all for Bella?”

“Well, yes.” I explain my reasoning for making all the food for her and try to ignore how his soft cotton pajamas are molding to the taut muscles in his thighs and the package that rests between them.

“You know, we have a cook. There was no need to do all this,” he says, shutting the door.

“I know,” I tell him defensively. “I know how Bella can get sometimes and I want to make sure she’s happy while I’m gone. I can’t control what she’s going to do daily or eat, but I can provide her favorite foods, at the very least.”

“I know, she’s lucky to have you.” Max doesn’t say more on the topic, and he opens the refrigerator to pull out a container with pot roast and another one with mashed potatoes in it. “Eat a little with me,” he says as pops it into the microwave.

I can’t think of a reason not to, and my stomach growls on cue.

“See?” Max nods towards my stomach. “I can guess these things.”

I give him a faint smile and pull out a chair to sit and doodle on my list while he finishes warming up the food. We’ve been incredibly polite to each other since the day he saw Sam at the house. I don’t know if he and Sam are talking to each other, but since they see each other at work, I assume that they are. I hope they aren’t upset with one other; it will make me feel worse about everything once I have to leave. It’s one thing to break up a family like the one Max and I created, but it’s another for me to break up two brothers over nothing.

“Careful,” Max says, setting down the containers in front of me. “They’re super hot.”

“I’ll get some plates,” I offer. I grab two small plates from the cupboard and set them down.

“You never ate in the middle of the night before?” Max asks me. He’s licking his finger and l try not to think about how much I want to take over the task.

“What? Of course, I have,” I tell him, confused by his statement. I’m so busy watching his tongue that I can’t make much sense of what he’s saying.

“When you eat this late, you don’t use plates,” he declares. He hands me a fork. “Even utensils are optional.”

“Oh, right.” I sit down and cover my chest with my robe before he can notice my nipples poking out of my nightgown. The last time we were intimate was a few days before Ms. Sushi came into the picture. It’s been too long for my liking, but it’s not as if I can tell him I want to pause our standoff while we have sex, and then hit “play” again.

I drop my fork in my haste to cover up, and Max and I bump heads trying to retrieve it. “Let me just rinse it,” I mutter.

“Forget it,” Max says, taking it and throwing in the sink for me. “Just share with me.”

One fork and one bowl between the two of us? Nothing can go wrong here. “Sure,” I say. “Um, you can go first.” I wait as he spears some of the tender meat and scoops up some mashed potatoes and gravy with it. He holds it up to my lips, and I open obediently.

We continue to eat quietly while he alternates our bites. There is something so sweet, yet erotic about this process. I know it’s bad for me, but at the same time, I can’t stop. We’re sitting close to each other so we can share, our knees bumping together. I want to ask him about the other night and clear the air, but I don’t want to ruin the moment.

We’ve eaten the whole bowl, and even though I’m stuffed, I want to keep eating just to be close to him. He pushes back in his chair and distances himself from me. I see a bit of mashed potatoes on the corner of his mouth and reach up to wipe it away. His lips capture my thumb, and he sucks on the tip lightly.

My mind goes blank, and I can’t think straight. All I know is how much I need him right here, right now. He drops the containers, and I register a second fork clattering to the floor, but this time I don’t care.

His lips cover mine, and he pushes me against the fridge in no time. I tear away his shirt, and he’s peeling my robe off, and my nightgown down to my waist. His head lowers onto my chest, and I feel his hot mouth claim one nipple while he pulls and teases the other. I can’t stop my hips from moving against his, and I feel his cock pushing against my stomach.

Rubbing my hands down his chest, I move to the drawstring of his pants. It’s tied loosely, and I don’t have to fumble long before I have it undone and I can slide the pants down. His cock springs free, and I hesitate briefly. I draw my hand back, but Max captures it and wraps it around his throbbing member.

He groans and bunches up the rest of my nightgown up to my hips. It’s now uselessly pooled around my middle, and he lets go of the whole thing and pushes it down to make a puddle around my feet.

It feels so wrong to be standing naked in the kitchen, but I feel safe with Max. I cup him with one hand and massage his balls while I stroke him with the other. He squeezes his eyes closed, and I can see him trying to maintain his composure.

I’m not having it, though. I want, no, I need to see him succumb to me. I want to have that control over him, if only just for tonight. I drop to my knees and lick the tip of his shaft. He sucks in his breath, and I know he’s going to try to stop me, but I don’t want to hear it. Not yet.

Opening my mouth wider, I take in the whole tip, which fills most of my mouth. I swirl my tongue around, and I feel his hands cup my face. He wants to stop me, but he can’t because it feels too good.

I feel powerful, and I’m urged to continue. I slide him into my mouth deeper, squeezing my lips around him so he feels the hot, wet friction all over. I hear him whimper, but I can’t stop. My other hand is still kneading his balls; I haven’t forgotten about them. I release his cock to bathe them with the same attention.

“Shit, Laura.” His voice sounds barely restrained. It’s the first word he’s spoken since we started eating. I move back to the head and increase the pressure. “I can’t stop, Laura, I can’t.” He’s trying to move me off of him, but I continue the assault. “Laura, Laura.” He keeps chanting my name, his hands trying to pull me off him, though I know he’s fighting the urge to push himself in deeper.

I keep pressure on the head and take in more of his length without warning. Max’s body tenses under me, and I release just in time to have him jerk in my hand, shooting hot streams of himself onto my breasts.

He looks dazed, and he’s clutching the fridge for support. “Laura,” he says again.

“I’m going to go get cleaned up,” I say quietly. I stand up and give him a kiss on the cheek before slipping my nightgown back on and moving away. He grabs my wrist before I can go.

“Come to the room.” It’s not a request, it’s an order. I look into his eyes. They flash at me.

“Okay,” I say. I have to be up early tomorrow for the flight, but I think tonight, I’m just going to forget about sleeping.

* * *

“I’ll call you every day and write you long, long, long, long, long letters every day, too!” Bella is skipping in her excitement about my trip, although I don’t think she understands that I’m leaving for a few days, not a few hours.

“I sure hope so.” I tweak her nose. “I made you some videos of me reading some of your favorite books, so if you ever miss me, you can watch them.”

“Even if it’s not at bedtime?” Bella asks earnestly.

“Even then,” I agree.

“But what if you miss me?” Bella tests me. “How will you see me?”

“Well, I have videos of you.” I show her my phone, and she takes it.

“You’re sure you have everything?” Max hung back for most of the morning after Bella woke up. Even now, he’s standing on the steps while the driver loads the bags into the trunk.

“I have everything and then some,” I joke.

“You don’t have me.” Bella is swinging my arm back and forth, trying to hang off of it.

“Let’s let Laura get in the car,” Max says, peeling her off.

My throat feels tight when I have to watch them back away from the car. The driver shuts the door, but I keep my eyes trained on them as we pull away. I’ve prepared everything for Bella, but I forgot to prepare myself for this separation.

I know I need to be thinking about the opportunity I have in Milan, but I don’t know how to erase Max from my mind in order to do that. Maybe this separation is good for us to clear our minds and get our lives back on track.

I think we’re both resorting to sex as a bandage for what’s to come. I know I am. I never thought I could be as brazen as I was last night, but I was. I contemplate telling Riley so she can share my excitement. It will be a waste telling her if she doesn’t believe me.

Recalling the jitters I had when I put on one of the nighties I bought, I wonder how I shed my inhibitions in a few short days. I think it’s like Riley said; I have to follow my instincts. They were never so strong as they were last night.

All the way to Milan, I think about Max and what kind of future we could have had or would have had or should have had. I reach a point of exhaustion during the flight, where I forget where I am headed, and I wonder where Max and Bella are. Having had no sleep for over twenty-four hours, not to mention being stressed the days leading up to last night, is taking a toll on me.

As soon as I land, I take a shuttle straight to the hotel and sleep a few hours until my meeting is scheduled. Once I wake up, I’m still tired, but I feel refreshed. I shower and dress in a simple, tasteful wrap dress that’s one of the designs I have in my portfolio. I had a tailor make it to my measurements, and I’ve never had the opportunity to wear it. But I know today is an appropriate time to show it off.

My first meeting is more formal, and I wish I’d thought to wear something less casual. I feel out of place and regret my decision. The next day, I wear slacks and a sleeveless top that appears to be a plain, pale pink at first glance but is detailed down the back with lace eyelet buttons.

“You always have on the most beautiful ensembles,” one woman compliments from her seat in the meeting room.

“Thank you,” I smile warmly. “I’m afraid the one from yesterday was a poor choice, though. It was meant more for a casual day.”

“No, bella,” the woman corrects me. “It suited you and the purpose. I recognized your design. Did you start production on those already?” Her use of Bella’s name throws me off for a moment.

“I don’t have any others like this, no,” I clarify.

While I go through the second interview, I answer the questions in a hollow voice. When she asks me how I plan to juggle my family life along with the grueling schedule they have, I don’t say anything. She raises her eyebrows at me, and I clarify. “I won’t have any family life to juggle so it won’t pose any problems for me.” I pride myself on blinking back my tears and hope she won’t see through my act.