“I saw him again last night.” I paused, debating telling them about Gavin. After a moment, I decided that it was safe to share that particular piece of information. Max’s protectiveness had intensified my forbidden feelings for him. If I was going to tell my friends about him, they should know what he’d done for me.
“Max came to my place to pick me up after I got home from my networking event.” I fudged the truth just a little. “But Gavin followed me home and…” A chill raced through me at the memory of his groping hands on my body. “Well, it turns out you were right, Davis,” I mumbled, staring intently at the polished wooden tabletop. “Gavin does want to fuck me.”
“What did he do?” Davis seethed. “I swear to god, I will punch that motherfucker right in his smarmy face.”
I swallowed hard and shook my head. “There’s no need. Max already punched him in the face. And broke his arm when he pulled Gavin off me.”
“I like this guy,” Isabel declared. “Why didn’t you tell us about him before? He sounds great.”
“He’s…” I took a moment to search for the right word. “Shy.” Well, that wasn’t the right word at all, but it would have to do. “He has this burn scar on his face. I get the feeling he doesn’t talk to many people because he’s self-conscious about it.”
Because his cruel sister called him ugly and made him feel like a monster.
My heart twisted just thinking about how terribly she must’ve treated him since the accident.
“Well, we want to meet him,” Charlie said firmly. “He does sound like a decent guy, but we need to vet him.”
I blew out a sigh. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I could only imagine how Max would react to being grilled by my best friends. He’d probably feel judged and threatened, and he’d retreat behind his wall of rage to protect himself.
“Why not?” Davis demanded.
“Whatever this thing is between us is new,” I explained. “And like I said, I don’t think he’s used to talking to people. If he hadn’t saved me from getting hit by that car, I don’t think he would’ve approached me at all.”
I realized that much was true. He’d been watching me that night to make sure I didn’t go to the cops, but if I hadn’t recklessly confronted him, he probably would’ve disappeared from my life. Our relationship so far had been tumultuous to say the least, but I didn’t want to lose what we had.
“Is the scar that bad?” Isabel asked, her voice soft with sympathy. “He really doesn’t want to talk to people because of it?”
I nodded. “I’m not sure how or when he got it, but he tries to hide it as much as possible. Whatever happened must’ve been excruciating and traumatic. I wish he’d realize that I don’t care about it. I’m really attracted to him.” That was the understatement of the century. Our chemistry was combustible.
“Okay, honey. We’ll give you time,” Davis allowed. “But we want to meet him.”
“We approve of anyone who punches Gavin in the face,” Isabel announced.
“Definitely,” Charlie added.
I smiled and finally relaxed. My friends’ support meant everything to me, and I was glad I’d been able to tell them about Max. At least, the best parts of Max. The darker things that’d happened between us would never be fully erased, but I chose to focus on the good.
I pulled out my phone and sent him a message: Meet me at my place in 2 hours?
A notification popped up telling me that he’d read it almost immediately. But there was no reply. I put my phone away and decided to be present with my friends. Max would either be there when I got home or not. And if he was, this time, I was ready to invite him inside.
Chapter 18
Max
Meet me at my place in 2 hours? I checked the text for the dozenth time, as though it would say something different.
It’d been well over two hours since she’d sent it. Allie was already home. I’d watched to make sure she got inside safely, and no one followed her—not Gavin and not any Russian scum.
I was her only stalker tonight.
My fingers flexed. That was exactly why I had no business accepting her invitation: I was her stalker, not her protector. No matter how much I’d deluded myself, no matter what she’d said, she was still afraid to be alone with me. She was afraid for me to come inside her apartment.
And why wouldn’t she be? The last time I’d been inside, I’d drugged and kidnapped her.
My phone buzzed, startling me out of my dark mood.
Another text from Allie: Are you coming?
I fired off a response: You don’t want me to come over.
Three gray dots immediately began bouncing on my screen as she hastily typed her reply: I asked you to meet me at my place. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to come over.