Cursed Read Free

Max was slowing a little, his irritation and nicotine cravings dropping off a little as the endorphins kicked it.
    They ran silently. Max—not for the first time—thanked God that John knew when to shut the fuck up. It wasn’t until they came to the causeway bridge, which was pulled up so that some wealthy bastard’s yacht could pass through, that John ventured to say anything.
    â€œWhy don’t you just ask her out?” They were jogging in place while they waited for the bridge to go down.
    Max didn’t bother to pretend he didn’t know whom John was talking about.
    â€œI never ask women out.” Which was true. They asked him . They jumped him. They had sex with him. There was rarely a date involved.
    â€œSo this will be new for you, then.”
    â€œDid you ever ask Mary out on a date?”
    John huffed and stopped jogging as well. “I suppose you have me on that one.”
    Max grunted. “And Lille sure won’t be fuckin’ you the way Mary fucked me.”
    â€œYou’re a little possessive for a man who’s behaved like the ultimate player for his entire life.”
    â€œI don’t understand it, but . . . I’m fuckin’ jealous. I hate every motherfucker who watched that video.”
    â€œWow.” John stretched one calf and then the other. “Then why don’t you say something to her?”
    Max shrugged. “She’s been avoiding me.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œJaysus.” Max shrugged his shoulders and wished he had a fuckin’ cigarette. The truth was, he was afraid she’d turn him down.
    What the fuck? No one had ever turned him down before. But it had never happened because he’d never had to ask, not since he hit puberty. He wasn’t even sure if he liked her, given how distracting their physical attraction was, so why was he worried she’d turn him down?
    â€œShe’s coming to the pub tonight.”
    Max couldn’t help but think that was good news. Every time she came to the pub, she had sex with him. He just wanted to talk to her, though, maybe for a few minutes. He couldn’t remember ever wanting to talk to a woman before. The girl recording the documentary—Kim, he thought—had done an incredible job capturing not just Lille behaving like the Fetish Queen, but Lille behaving like a person, like a businessperson. Watching her work on the computer with her reading glasses on her head had been equally compelling to Max. Even looking as she did, she worked hard to make a success of the Fetish Box. Max hadn’t known many women who were capable, even fewer who looked like Lille. “She’s still dead set on being the Fetish Queen, though.”
    The causeway bridge began to lower as the yacht drifted past. “Uncle Bryan managed to get over that.”
    Max shook his head. “I just don’t think I could. I couldn’t get over her sleeping with other people. Not in a million years.”
    â€œHave you asked her if she even wants to sleep with other men?”
    â€œWe don’t actually have many conversations.”
    â€œSo have one.”
    â€œI’ll think it about it, all right?”
    â€œWell, think about it fast. Apparently, she has a date for the Halloween party.”
    â€œShe has a what ?”

CHAPTER Twenty

    Carl left yet another message for Benson, the private investigator he’d dated a few years earlier. He had called regarding Lille’s father, but the man still hadn’t responded. He tossed his phone on his desk, irritated. Surely the man wasn’t still mad about that night in the Keys. The rooster totally wasn’t Carl’s fault. It was no reason to ignore a boy for three weeks.
    Glancing around at the absolute disaster on his desk, he wondered why he’d agreed to have a Halloween party at his gallery. The party was supposed to promote the gallery and the artwork, and it actually seemed to be working.