“Max, seriously,” I say louder, finally speaking over him. Sounding more nervous than angry.
“You can’t just decide I won’t work anymore. You can’t just decide I won’t stay in my own apartment.”
He looks more amused by the second, which I find infuriating.
“Why not?” he asks, making me growl with frustration, only because I know he’s right somehow.
Like he actually has thought all this through. He wasn’t just saying he’d been up all night waiting for me.
He’s a man who makes plans and achieves things because he makes them happen.
“You really wanna continue working in a box factory and living in this place?” he asks me seriously. Making me feel a stab of hurt.
Making me remember my own decisions and choices haven’t done much for me so far except land me where I am.
“I’m not trying to control you or make you feel bad, Phoebe,” he says gently. “I’m trying to help you. Help us. And if you’ll let me, I can show you,” he tells me, looking like he’s asking me to give him more of a chance than any he could ever take on me.
“I just-” I try to protest again, but it’s already decided.
He kisses me to silence me and after I swoon in his arms he finally releases me from his warm embrace.
“That’s better,” he whispers. “Everything I have is yours, Phoebe. That’s what I mean by you’re being mine. You don’t need to go to that job anymore. Don’t need to stay here either.”
“You’ll see,” he tells me with a mischievous grin, asking if I want to pack a few things before we go.
“Go?” I ask, almost panicked by what he’s just suggested. “Go where?”
“Home,” he says firmly. “I have a few to choose from, but we can see which ones you like best,” he adds casually. Still looking thoughtful, as though all this is completely normal.
Trixie is awake by now and she leaps up onto the sagging sofa bed, excited that Max is still here. She licks his nose before coming over to me, wagging her little tail as if she’s been taking in everything he’s said.
At least one of us is excited.
Me? I’m not sure what to make of any of it, except for one thing.
I know I’ve fallen hard for Max and saying no to him is the last thing that could cross my mind.
I’m hooked on being near him, everything about him. He’s making it all sound so impossibly foolproof, so even if things don’t work out or I change my mind, what have I got to lose?
That’s the look both he and Trixie give me as I laugh nervously, wondering if I even have anything to really pack let alone a proper bag to put it in.
Most of my worldly possessions are still in packing boxes against one wall. My work uniform and sweat pants with T-shirts are my regular at-home casual wear.
“Why not?” I hear myself saying. “Why the hell not?”
Chapter Twelve
Maxwell
It’s music to my ears.
Phoebe is whole. Untouched. A virgin.
I feel like the luckiest man alive when she tells me but I also feel confused when she gets so stubborn about wanting to keep things the way they are for her.
I thought she’d leap at the chance to get away from her job, this apartment.
I guess it’ll take some time for her to see things differently and I remind myself I was prepared to wait. To do things as slow or as fast as she liked, but once I saw her naked for the first time. Once I taste her in my mouth.
I’m finished, I know I’m more than falling for her. I know she’s the one and I won’t let her go, not for another hour let alone another day.
She eventually agrees after I give her some assurances. I’ll make sure she has a way out if she wants, but I don’t even want to consider that option.
Once she sees how she deserves to be treated. When she sees the life she can have, the life we all can, I know she will feel better about it all.
As much as I can’t believe my luck in finding her, I guess Phoebe feels a similar apprehension at her life changing for the better so suddenly.
But I know this is right, I know we’re meant to be together. Like its destiny.
I offer to join her when she says she needs a shower, but I’m reminded of the space issues so content myself to listen to her as I lay back with little Trixie on my chest, dozing again after a while before I hear my cell ringing.
Fishing it out of my clothes which are scattered around the tiny room, I call my dad back after missing him by the time I find it.
“Hey Pop, everything alright?” I ask.
“I was gonna ask you the same,” he says, sounding worried. “I thought you might be coming over to pick up those window locks you mentioned for our newest customer,” he tells me. Always thinking about the business.