“So they really didn’t bother with us.”
“Guess not.”
I pause, sucking on my lip. “Are you going to have to kiss me every time they’re near?”
A beat passes. “I think it’s a good idea, don’t you?”
I’m so glad it’s dark right now so he can’t see the absolutely stupid grin I have on my face.
Fourteen
“Like keys and dreams and old tattoos, with one quick twist,
love turns to scar.”
– Hideaway
Fortunately, we don’t come across any more demons on the way to the Airbnb in Yucca Valley.
Unfortunately, that means Max has had no excuse to kiss me. I’m starting to think that this whole thing is one big joke to him, that whatever demon lady said about his feelings for me aren’t what I think they are. Or hope they are. Just has me on a wild-goose chase, looking at Max in a new light, trying to figure him out, figure us out.
I mean, yeah, I know he’s fond of me. He likes me as a person. I asked him that, as one does. Even if he just thinks of me as his friend’s little sister, maybe that’s enough to complicate things. Maybe he’s not supposed to have any attachments to people at all.
But the thing is, we’re bound together, so that pushes our relationship to the next level. As casual as things between us seem to be, it’s also not. I’m always aware, even if just in the back of my brain, that there’s a lot riding on the two of us being together. It’s a life-or-death situation here, and I’m the one in control.
Which has put a lot of pressure on me, even if it doesn’t feel like it at times. I’m in charge of his life and that’s…a lot. It’s a lot to handle and come to terms with. Maybe that’s what’s twisting my own feelings for Max, making them more than they should be. Maybe I have a misplaced sense of duty to him. Maybe I’m as dependent on him as he is on me.
Or maybe it’s just fucking nice to be needed for once.
Honestly, there’s only one way to settle this.
I need to sleep with him.
Literally need to have sex with him.
If he can fuck as good as he kisses, then that’s all I need to know where I stand and where he stands too.
Don’t you think that will complicate things? the voice in my head pipes up.
But it’s already fucking complicated, no matter what I do.
Sigh.
I feel his eyes on me in the dark of the car as we pull down a quiet street with bungalows, the moon lower on the horizon. I dare to meet them, wondering if he picked up on what I was thinking. There’s heat in his eyes, this dark intensity that I don’t see too often, the kind of look that makes my stomach flip.
I could crawl across the console and climb on top of him. We don’t even need to go inside the house. Just straddle him, kiss him, reach down and unzip his jeans…
That heat in his eyes flares, turning a supersaturated green that gleams in the car and he licks his lips, swallows, and I swear the tension between us is straining under the weight of his gaze. It’s ready to snap.
“Are you still high?”
His question catches me off-guard. I have to blink a few times, like I’ve been stuck in a cloud, like I can’t see straight.
“What?” I whisper, my voice coming out husky.
“The Vicodin,” he says.
Why is he asking me if I’m still high?
Oh my god. Maybe he is reading my thoughts, trying to look for an excuse for them. But I guarantee what I’m feeling isn’t the drugs.
Least I don’t think.
“No, it’s wearing off,” I tell him, my breath returning.
“You got to be careful with that stuff,” he says to me, parking the car. “Might make you feel things that aren’t real. Make you want to do things you shouldn’t.” Then he dips his head and looks out my window. “This seems to be the place.”
Before I can find my words, he’s opening the door and heading to the trunk, leaving me in the passenger seat. Was that his subtle way of telling me to back off? Can’t he be man enough to just tell it to me straight? I’m tired of drowning in all this murky uncertainty. He’s the one who just kissed me back there!
I unbuckle my seat belt and scamper out of the car, storming toward him.
“Hey!” I tell him sharply as he brings out my suitcase and closes the trunk.
“Hey what?” he says, his tone matching mine, letting the suitcase clatter to the ground.
I step right up to him, jab my finger in his chest. “You’re supposed to be the straight shooter here. That’s what you always say, no secrets, no lies, no bullshit. But you’re keeping me in the dark on purpose now.”
“No one is keeping you in the dark,” he says, glaring at me, but he’s lying, I know it, I can tell.
“You are. You’re hiding things from me.”
“Oh am I?” he asks sharply, eyes glinting. “Is that why you decided to poke around inside my head? Did you find what you’re looking for?”
“No, I didn’t,” I tell him. “I wanted to know how you felt about me.”
He’s taken aback. “How I felt about you?”
“The demon told me you have feelings for me,” I tell him, feeling a little stupid, like maybe I shouldn’t have just admitted that.
“Oh yeah?” he says, brows coming together, stepping closer to me until my finger bends and I’m pressing my hand against his chest, no distance between us. “What else did she tell you that you’ve happened to keep to yourself?”
“Nothing.”
His eyes narrow as he stares at me. “And you have the nerve to say I’m hiding things.”
“Then tell me. Tell me you have no feelings for me! Tell me you don’t want me and then I’ll just…back off.”
His eyes search mine with frantic energy, a
