Flawed Heart

“It doesn’t matter; it was just an accident.”

I squeeze her chin softly, letting her know that I’m not stupid and I know she’s lying to me.

“Sweetheart,” I say in a gentle tone, even though I’m bursting with rage inside, “tell me who did this, or I’ll find out myself.”

She looks away and whispers, “I don’t know her name.”

“What’d she look like?”

“B-b-b-black hair and blue eyes, tall, slim.”

I narrow my eyes, not recalling anyone who looks like that. She’s either lying or I don’t know the person who did it.

“Did she say why she did it?”

She glances away again.

“Belle,” I warn her. “I will find out.”

“She said I don’t belong in this world, that you’re already taken, and I need to stay the hell away from you.”

My blood boils. Demi. It would have to be Demi. She would orchestrate something like this in her sleep. She’s been insanely jealous of Belle since I started talking to her, and the more I’ve been hanging with her, the less time I’ve been spending with Demi. In fact, I rarely think of her. I should do the right thing and break it off, but I’m too fucking busy.

“I’ll handle this, but first I’m taking you home, Blue Belle. You can’t drive like that.”

“I’m fine, Max.”

“No, you’re fucking not. Your eye is just about fully closed. Come on, we’ll get your car later.”

She doesn’t argue, and instead lets me lead her towards my truck. I open the door for her and she slides in. Just as I close the door, Reese jogs up. He looks to Belle in my car, and then his eyes flash to me. “What the fuck happened to her?”

“Demi happened to her.”

Reese’s face goes tight. He’s come to like Belle almost as much as me, so I know he’s feeling a percentage of the rage that I am right now.

“That bitch needs to be put in her place.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” I say, thumping his shoulder. “I’ll be putting her in it.”

“Sit still,” I chastise as Belle wiggles about nervously.

“I don’t . . . can’t you do this another way?” she protests.

“No, Blue Belle, I cannot. It needs to stay on for a while, and if this is how I can be assured it’ll happen, then I’m going to sit here until I’m satisfied.”

Belle and I are sitting on the ground. My back is pressed against her bed and she’s in between my outstretched legs, back pressing against my chest, ass right against my dick. I’ve got one arm wrapped around her middle and the other is pressing an ice pack to her eye. It’s an intimate position, and she knows it. So do I. I’m fighting against myself to keep my hands off her.

“I can hold it myself, Max. I’m not an invalid.”

I snort. “This is way more fun.”

“For who? You or me?”

I chuckle. “Me, of course.”

I know she’s smiling right now, even though I can’t see it.

“You wouldn’t be smiling, would you Blue Belle? Because that would mean you like my company.”

“I don’t,” she protests, but her voice is lighter now. “You forced yourself into my life. You’re like a fly that won’t go away.”

I burst out into laughter and squeeze her closer. “But you don’t really want me to go away, because you’d be lonely. Admit it.”

“Nope.”

My grin gets bigger. “Well, then I guess I’ll have to sit here for hours and hours, until you admit it.”

“I hate you, Maximus.”

I poke her belly and she giggles. “Don’t call me that God awful name, woman.”

“It’s your birth name. I’m allowed to call you that if I want.”

“It might be my birth name, but it’s a damned tragedy.”

She giggles louder. Fucking love that sound.

“Okay, fine, I’ll call you Max. But I won’t admit to liking you.”

“I can tickle it out of you, if you’d like?”

She kicks my foot with hers. “You can’t do that. I’m injured.”

“Laughter is the best medicine, Blue Belle.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me . . .” she says, her voice wary.

“Oh wouldn’t I?”

I reach down to her ribs and wiggle a finger into her flesh. She bursts into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Grinning, I lower the ice pack and drop it to the ground, then I use my other hand to tickler her some more. She’s laughing hysterically and squirming. She launches forward but I go with her, hand wrapped around her waist. I put a hand down to stop my body weight hitting hers, but I keep her pinned, face down to the floor as I keep tickling her.

“Stop it!” she shrieks. “You horrible . . .” She can’t finish her sentence through her laughter.

“Max!”

“Say it.” I laugh, tickling her some more. “Say you adore my company.”

“No.” She giggles.

I flip her over, straddling her hips. I wiggle my fingers in front of her face and then bring them down onto her belly. She howls with laughter and her head thrashes from side to side.

“Admit it, or things will get ugly.”

“Okay, okay.” She gasps between laughter. “I love your company, and my life would never be the same without you.”

I grin and stop tickling her. I lean down and press my forehead against hers. “Told you.”

Her breath hitches, and all the laughter leaves her body. She looks into my eyes and suddenly things are serious. I want to kiss her. Fuck. I want to kiss her so badly that my entire body aches for it. She shifts beneath me and I fight back a moan. Her eyes flicker to my lips and I know she wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss her. She reaches up and runs her thumb over my jaw, and my entire body clenches with need.

There’s an ache in my heart that I’ve never experienced before. There’s a want in my body I don’t understand. I care about Belle; I’ve already figured that out, but this much? No, I didn’t realize it had gotten to that point. Jesus, I still have a girlfriend I haven’t ended things with. What sort of fucking person am I?

I shouldn’t be here doing this.

I push up quickly, shifting to ease the erection that was starting to rise in my jeans. I shouldn’t be here doing this. Fuck. I look around for my keys, doing everything I can not to stare into those fucking perfect eyes. “I should get going,” I say to my boots. “I have practice.”

“Oh,” she says, her voice soft and hurt. “Okay.”

“I’ll call you.”

I grab my keys and walk out of her room without another word.

I’m a fucking asshole.

CHAPTER SIX

NOW – ANABELLE

My knees are pressed to my chest and I’m staring blankly at the wall in front of me. Imogen is asleep on her bed in the far corner of the room. She’s got a pink blanket clutched in her hands and she’s on her side, cover thrown over her. She looks peaceful, which is a good thing because I’m anything but. I can’t stop thinking about Max, and the way I spoke to him tonight.