The Kingmaker

Lennix

Maxim’s smile steals hearts for a living. The magnetism of it draws me to him sitting on that wall across from the hostel.

It’s only been a few hours since we parted ways. Maxim brought me home long enough for us to both change and prepare for our day together. He slides his aviators into his hair, and strands of it curl around and cling to the lenses. I’ll miss the way his hair feels threading through my fingers when he’s inside me. I’ll miss the way he kisses me like he can’t believe it’s real—a startling sense of wonder from someone so pragmatic, cynical even. I’ll miss the way he tangles our fingers under tables and touches me every chance he gets. There are a dozen things I’ll miss about him. I’m already cataloguing them with only two days left of whatever this is, has been.

“Hey.” He stands from the wall, laying that same book about Antarctic expeditions down, spine up. He grabs my hand and pulls me into a hug. I don’t wait for him to bend and kiss me, but tip up on my toes to take his mouth with mine. My hands slide over his shoulders and into his hair. I press him close, and keep my eyes sealed tightly over sudden tears.

I’m going to lose him.

I’ve only had a few days with him, but just the thought of not having this every day brings tears to my eyes.

He pulls back and links our hands at our sides.

“Well good morning to you, too,” he says with a chuckle.

I force a laugh and keep my lashes lowered a second longer, composing myself. Get your shit together, girl.

My little pep talk goes to hell when I glance up to find his stare fixed intently on my face. I fear my shit is beyond getting together. Can you feel so deeply for someone after just a few days? But Maxim has been inside me. It’s not just sex; he’s entertained my impossible dreams. Witnessed my nightmares. Maybe I waited so long to make love because I knew I’d be bad at this—at taking someone into my body, but checking them at the door to my soul. I rolled out a welcome mat for Maxim, and it’s no one’s fault but mine. He said no attachments from the beginning.

I don’t care if it hurts.

I said that the first night we made love. Naïve, silly girl. Myopic child, thinking only to have him, with no notion how hard it would be to let him go.

“You okay?” he asks, a frown pleating his thick brows.

“Yeah.” I brighten my smile for him. “I’m fine.”

“Kimba and Viv didn’t mind me kidnapping you for the day?”

My smile becomes more natural. “They’re actually relishing sleeping in. After dinner last night, Aya took them drinking. They’re pretty hung over.”

“Good. Then they won’t miss you too badly.”

We walk to the train station and board. Anticipation overtakes the sadness the thought of our pending separation brought on.

“Where are we going?” I lean onto his shoulder where he’s seated beside me.

“West,” he says, deliberately cryptic.

I pinch his side, though it’s just lean muscle, not much to get hold of.

“Ow!” He laughs so loudly several heads on the train turn. “You little . . . I’m punishing you for that later.”

“Spank me?” I give him an eager look. “Tie me up? Gag me?”

“Are you sure you were a virgin just days ago?” he whispers. “I’m not sure I can keep up with you.”

“You seemed to be doing fine this morning.”

“And last night.” He licks at the seam of my lips, teasing them open for a deepening kiss. “God, I want to fuck you all the time.”

“We have that in common then. Now tell me where we’re going.”

“Sassenheim. Keukenhof Gardens is a little more curated. Like a tulip museum. I thought we’d go a little off the beaten path.”

“Says the man leaving

for Antarctica in a week. I’m pretty sure you’re king of ‘off the beaten path.’”