Max Read Free Page A

Max’s house like Dad had planned, but there
was no way this could be Max’s home. It was like a freakin’ mansion, and with
no windows in the hall to catch a possible view of hills or lake, I could have
very well been anywhere.
    I stilled at the sound of footsteps
creaking up the stairs, hearing muffled conversation and laughter. I dived
aside, hiding in the alcove of a door jamb, thankful for the deep recess with
thick heritage moulding as I watched on secretly at the two bodies that emerged
from below onto the landing. A tall boy, built and athletic, led a dark-haired
girl up the last of the stairs; she went to move past him toward the end door
when he stilled her with his hand, pulling her back to him as he circled his
arms around her and edged her against the wall.
    She giggled. “Sean.” Her eyes darted down
the stairs and back up to him, her brows lifting as if to silently say, “Here?”
    He didn’t answer, instead lowered his mouth
to hers, capturing her breathlessness in an all-consuming kiss that made the
girl’s toes curl—and my own—as I watched on in fascination of how he devoured
her, how she melted against him as he skimmed the palm of his hand to glide
under her T-shirt and cup her breast. It felt insanely wrong to be watching
this intimate moment between two strangers, so I glanced at my watch and
wondered how long whatever it was they planned to do would take, and secondly,
what the hell were they doing dry humping at eight o’clock in the morning?
Really?
    The show ended when he drew back slightly.
I could see the heated look in her eyes as she caught her breath. It was a
silent promise that if he followed her he would get what he wanted, and by the
way he was looking down into her eyes, it looked as if he would have followed
her to the ends of the earth. For a brief, funny moment I felt my chest
tighten, wishing someone would look at me like that.
    The girl laced her fingers with his as she
pulled him toward the direction of the end door.
    “Come on, Mr Murphy,” she said with a
knowing smile.
    He nodded. “Right you are, Miss Henderson.”
    Only when I heard the thud of the closed
door and the sound of muffled laughter behind it did I feel my shoulders slump
in relief. The coast was clear, for now, but I wondered what exactly lay behind
the many doors along the hall. Not wanting to discover another horny couple in
my path, I threw caution to the wind and pushed on toward the landing. Hand on
the edge of the banister, I spun around to hit the stairs and make my way down
to the great unknown.
     
    ***
     
    Fisherman’s basket, Guinness Pie and mash,
Parmi and chips.
    Bar meals?
    I was in a bar? Quite literally, as I stood
before an unoccupied bar in an empty restaurant, sliding glass doors before me
that led out to a beer garden—the shine of the morning sun filtering through to
light the dim space was a bit hard on the eyes. Instead of meeting nature and
going out into the garden, I walked around the small bar, through an alcove
where a partitioned divider cut off my path. It was then I heard my dad’s voice
from beyond and felt a huge sense of relief in the familiarity of it. This wasn’t
an insane asylum for horny delinquents, it was just a pub that we had stopped
over at on the way to Onslow. Cool.
    Readying myself to step through the divider
I paused when I heard another voice.
    His voice.
    Max’s voice.
    Holy crap!
    Okay, so we had reached our destination, it
seemed. I began to panic; this was not how I planned our first meeting to be,
in creased, day-old clothes, with manky hair, and sporting the warmed-up dead
look. Hell, no. I was meant to walk through his door like a song on a summer
wind—it would all happen in slow motion—and I would flick my hair over my shoulder
and offer a coy smile. Awkwardly sliding through a room divider in denim cut
offs and a navy Bonds singlet, with a rat’s nest ponytail, was definitely not
the plan.
    What to do? What to do?
    And where were my