My Sweet Bully

Max’s eyes flip to the officer, so I look too, but he isn’t paying any attention to us. Rocking my body hard, I twist and turn, doing everything I can to free myself.

But he’s so strong, his muscles solid. My breathing picks up as he reels me in, closer and closer to an embrace. I don’t want him to hug me. I want to go home.

I’m not going to be his fuck buddy, his friend with benefits, nothing like that. We did it once, it can end there. And I won’t let him use me to make himself feel better either.

“Will you just listen to me!” his voice booms from the back of his throat, scratchy and thick. “Stop wiggling, and just listen to me already.”

“No, you said enough.” My shoulders whip from front to back, side to side, and I dig my heels in the sand to get traction.

And then we both slip.

I tumble backwards, and Max falls on top of me. I’m lying on my back in wet sand, staring up at his face with anger in my eyes.

“Get off me!” I bark, veering my stare and flaring my nostrils. “I have nothing else to say to you.”

“You don’t have to say shit, you just need to listen.” Keeping his weight on my chest, he uses his legs to pin me in the sand. “What I was trying to tell you before you decided to storm off is that you assume a lot, because I was already planning on asking you myself. You didn’t have to do it.”

“What?” I’m confused as I look up at him, my brows fall hard into the bridge of my nose.

He licks his lips as he smiles softly. His lips parts as he’s about to speak, and I hang in limbo waiting for his words.

A rush of cold water crashes around us. The wave rushes up the beach, soaking both of us as it slips back into the ocean like it was never there.

Max starts to laugh, and I can’t help but laugh along with him as I push up on my elbows. He falls back onto his knees, his shirt and face soaked in sea water.

Wiping my eyes, I’m spitting saltwater out as our laughter grows. Max holds his hand out, helping me to my feet. Slipping his fingers around my hips, he pulls me against his chest.

Our eyes connect, his smile big and bold with a glow that warms me instantly. His fingertips run and up down my ribs, sending a gush of tingles across my body.

“Come here, I want to show you something.” Taking my hand he leads me back to the rocks. Max releases my hand and climbs up a few so he’s standing above me.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to show you something,” he says, reaching his hand out to me. I don’t question him, I let him help me up the rocks. “Look.” Pointing over to the other side, he smiles.

There’s writing in the sand, it’s big and thick, and easy to read.

‘Prairie, will you go to prom with me?’

“Are you serious?” I ask, taken back by the romantic gesture.

Shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, he looks out at the sand written words. “Well, is that a yes?” His gaze drifts back to mine, eyes hoping I haven’t changed my mind.

“Absolutely. Yes, yes!” I say, slipping my hand into his and resting my head on the outside of his arm.

Max grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping my face to his, and kisses me hard. His lips press against mine, hand cupping my skull to tilt my head so he can kiss me deeper.

His tongue slides into my mouth, I open easily for him. Tasting, licking, loving every second of this man that seems to only exist with me.

This side of Max is a ghost to so many. To the kids at school. To my uncle. To my parents.

But I see him vividly.

9

Max

I shut the door to her car and watch her drive off until her taillights flicker into nothing.

My life is taking a turn. I’ve veered down a different path that’s opened up for me. I never could have seen this, there’s no way I could have ever pictured myself falling for the girl who I blame for everything.

Deep inside I know it’s wrong for me to hold any blame over her head, to let myself use her as the source of all the shit that went wrong that night, landing Harlow in jail.

Slowly, that grudge is melting away. Because we all make our own choices, it’s not her fault I chose wrong.

Tucking my hands in my pockets, I turn to face the house and see all the lights are out, except for one.

That light shouldn’t be on.

Furrowing my brows, I open the front door and step inside. The light is coming from my brother’s room, and the only reason I imagine it could be on is because my father has gone in there searching for hidden money, loose change, or anything he might be able to sell for a quick buck.