Thirteen

Thirteen

Jude

After we get out of the shower, Max gently suggests we watch TV and eat something. I try to enjoy it, but the argument we had in the shower sits in the back of my head, refusing to leave. I guess I knew I had some hang-ups from my time with Grant, but I didn’t realize reciprocating was one of them.

All I can think about is how Grant never would’ve done that. I got off sometimes when we were together. I hated it, but I couldn’t help it. But whenever Grant and I had sex, it was always about him. About how I needed to do my best to please him.

I guess that’s why even though I crave control when I’m with a guy, I’m also willing to do whatever they ask from me. I’m good at sex, and as long as I please them, I don’t have to be alone.

“Jude?” Max’s soft voice cuts through my thoughts, and when I glace at him, I find him watching me. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I reply, but it tastes like a lie. I wish he’d just let me blow him in the shower. Then none of this would’ve happened. But maybe it was about Max. He said he was just being nice but…

“Do you not like blowjobs?” I blurt. Maybe I could’ve said it with more tact, but I’m not exactly the tact kind of guy.

Max’s lips quirk up at the edges. “I like blowjobs just fine, Jude.”

“Because if you don’t, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to try to make you do something you didn’t want to do.” Just the thought makes me sick to my stomach. I never want to be Grant, even if it’s accidental. It’s why I’m always telling Max to use words. I like to know in no uncertain terms that we’re okay.

“You didn’t,” Max says. His voice is soothing. He puts a hand on my knee and squeezes gently. “I would’ve said something if I was uncomfortable.”

I try to keep my expression neutral. That’s not something I’ve ever done—told a guy I was uncomfortable.

Max watches me for a long moment before saying, “It’s okay, you know. To tell me if you don’t like something. I won’t get mad. I’d prefer it, actually. I want you to have a good time when you’re with me.”

I glance away, down at his hand on my knee. It looks so natural there. And for a second, I wish I could stay here forever. Just stay with Max and never leave. Never have to see Grant again.

“How are you single?” I ask. “You’re nice, you’re funny, you’re hot. What dark secret do you have stashed away that should send me running?”

Max laughs, but he sobers quickly. He runs a thumb along my knee. “His name was Patrick. We were together since our senior year of high school—six years. He was a firefighter. He passed away a couple years ago on the job.”

My heart sinks. “Oh, Max. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“How could you know?” Max gives me a sad smile. “I’m single because I don’t think I’m ready to be in a long-term relationship yet. Maybe one day.”

His confession guts me. He found someone he loved and would’ve probably loved for life if the man hadn’t been taken away from him. Max might be the gentlest person I know. He didn’t deserve to lose someone like that.

“What was he like?” I ask.

Max’s smile lightens a bit. “He was pretty much my opposite. He was adventurous and loud, and he made friends with total strangers. He went all out for birthdays and holidays. His parents died when he was in middle school, and he was bounced around a lot. So stuff like that was really important to him.”

“He sounds amazing.”

“He was.” Max sighs, and his hand shakes a little on my knee. “When he died, I thought I would never be happy again. It took a really long time for me to pull myself together. Some days, I still miss him so much that I don’t even want to get out of bed.”

“I’m sorry.” I hate saying it, but there’s nothing else. There are no words for that kind of loss.

“Thanks.” Max takes a breath and lets it out slowly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to drag the room down.”

“No, it’s okay.” I place my hand on top of his and squeeze his fingers a little. “I’m glad you told me.”

He’s quiet for a long minute, staring at the TV screen, but I don’t think he’s really watching it. I don’t know how he did that. How he put himself out there and told me that story when I’m practically a stranger.

I feel like I should do the same, because he has to be feeling vulnerable. And I can’t tell the whole story with Grant, but maybe I can give him something.

After taking a deep breath, I say, “The first guy I was with…wasn’t very good to me. He just really liked hurting me. He never did anything nice. You know, you don’t do something for nothing. I guess I kind of got it into my head that none of it bothered me anymore. But I saw him today.”

The words hurt coming out of my mouth. I don’t want Grant here in Max’s apartment. Not even his name or memory.

When my pause goes on for a while, Max squeezes my fingers in a gentle prompting.

“Seeing him today just kind of brought it all back. You were trying to do something nice, and all I could think about was him. So, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be an ass.”

“You weren’t an ass,” Max says. Then he asks softly, “Did he hurt you, Jude?”

I’m not sure how to respond to that. A simple yes wouldn’t suffice. Grant tortured me. He messed with my head and made me think it was all my fault. He made disgusting comments and threats about my friends until I alienated myself from all of them. I couldn’t tell my brothers, definitely couldn’t tell Mom and Dad. I had never felt so alone.

But I can’t tell that kind of stuff to Max. It’d scare him off or gross him out, and I just want to be with someone right now.

So I just say, “It was a long time ago.”

Sensing my reluctance, Max says, “You don’t have to tell me. But I’m glad you’re away from him, whoever he is. You deserve to be happy and to be with someone who sees how amazing you are.”

The compliment makes me uncomfortable. Especially because it’s not the full truth. But I can’t go deeper than that. Everything’s always been purely physical between me and the guys I’ve slept with. It’s better that way. Then no one can hurt me like Grant did.