17. Max

17

Smoke billows into the air when I add more fuel to the fires before sitting on the ground next to Buddy. We’re in front of the closest to the general store, and Buddy stares into it with a sad face, as though I’m burning his favorite stick. Which I am, but only because he decided that every stick is his favorite stick.

“Hey, Buddy, cheer up. Look, I’ve got you something.” He looks up at me with his one eye and a little tail wag. We’ll never know what happened to his eye, but I think I like him all the more for it. I rub his head. “We’re both missing pieces, aren’t we? Yours is just a little more visual.”

He nuzzles my hand when I drop it from his head, but then perks up when I pull out a stick I was hiding in the tall grass off to the side. It’s a large stick. A very, very large stick. He shoots to his paws, picks it up in his mouth, and runs in circles around the fire with it, his tail turning into a deadly force. His tail, combined with the stick that’s longer than his body, makes him the most deadly dog on the planet. I should probably fear that he might try to lick me to death.

Once he’s done showing off his prize, he lays back down next to the fire and chomps on the end of the stick while I stoke the fire some more. I have a nice little meal of soup and beans ready to heat up when Emily and William are finished playing with each other.

“That’s right, boy, it’s almost mealtime.” I run my hand across Buddy’s head and then his back. He stayed out here and stood guard while they were inside tending to Griffin. It wasn’t easy seeing him so out of it like that. He still hasn’t woken up, either. I wish I knew how long he could be out before I had to worry. He’ll be alright, though. He always is. The man is too strong and stubborn to die from a single cut, no matter how deep.

The door opens behind me, but I don’t turn around. I keep poking the flames with a stick that pales so much compared to Buddy’s staff. It’s fun to play with fire. “Welcome to Cafe de Max. Please have a seat and if you’re hungry, you can make your own damn food.”

“Are you mad?” The voice is so sweet, I can’t help but chuckle. It’s cute how she thinks I could ever be mad at her.

“Not at all. Come over here, pet. I’ve saved you a seat.” I scoot over to make space between me and Buddy, but Buddy trots off to find the perfect spot of grass to use as a toilet, so William takes his spot.

“Where did you find this? I didn’t see any food left inside,” William asks, eyeing the few cans in front of us.

I open the cans and pour the contents into the two pots I’d acquired, and then place them on the makeshift grill I’d stationed over the flames. I’ve been busy while they were busy. “There are a ton of cans in that drugstore over there. Also, a lot of bread and baked goods.”

“Baked goods?” Emily’s eyes widen and I think her mouth even waters.

“They’re more mold than actual baked goods at this point. I used some of it for the fires.”

“You went running around this town on your own?”

“Well, you see, Willie boy. I went to see if you wanted to go with me, but you were a little preoccupied.”

Emily’s cheeks turn beat red, and I smile. Her changing face colors amuse me so. I want to see all of her colors. Every single one that I can get out of her. So I hook my arm through hers and pull her closer to me. I could have so much fun seeing how bright of a red she can get to, but I don’t want to. I can tell it bothers her. Wow, that’s strange. I have no idea when I started to care about what bothers other people. That’s an annoying feeling to have.

Deciding she could use a change of subject—Emily, not Willie, he always deserves my wrath of an uncomfortable situation—I do exactly that. “Get Griffin all stitched up all right?”

Her face slowly turns back to a normal color. I can actually see that, since she’s no longer covered in all that dirt and blood. Even William has cleaned up some. At least he finally got his arm bandaged up. I was thinking I would have to sit on him while Emily worked her healing magic. “He’s still stable. His pulse is steady, his wound is clean and stitched up, now we’re letting him rest and waiting for him to wake up. I don’t know what he cut himself on, but it was a clean cut, and deep. He’s lucky it didn’t do more damage.”

“We moved the couch into the front of the store and laid him down on it. Figured he’d be more comfortable there than on a hard countertop,” William adds.

“I didn’t realize there was a couch in there.”

“There’s an office in the back. Also, a chair back there, but we figured it would be best to move the couch closer to us, rather than to move Grif farther away,” William says.

“Good thinking. Don’t want him waking up in a strange room wondering if we all abandoned him.” My voice is rough. Being abandoned by your own family is the worst. My brother is such an asshole.

“You okay there?” Emily asks, her voice so sweet.

“Yeah. Thinking about all the ways I’d like to kill my brother if I ever see him again. Grudges can be fun like that.”

Nobody talks after that. The food is ready and we have to wait for it to cool down before eating it, which turns out to be a mess since, while I found some bowls, there were no other eating utensils. We set aside a portion for Griffin.

We eat in silence, occupied by our own thoughts, and I know I’m not the only one with wretched thoughts. We’ve all been through a lot these last few days. I’m sure Emily could tell us exactly how many days. She’s been counting them like Griffin has. I used to find that quality of his annoying. Who wants to be reminded constantly about how long it has been since the worst days of our lives? But with Emily, I find it endearing. I could listen to her counting days for as long as she wants to count them.

“Did I see Buddy running with fire earlier?” Emily asks, breaking the silence.

I look over at her and grin. So she was watching me through the window. I thought so. “He was.”

When I don’t elaborate, she pushes. “Care to give the rest of the story there?”

I chuckle. “Don’t worry, pet, I had it all under control.”

“Not from where I was standing.”

“Exactly how long were you watching me?” I waggle my eyebrows and she blushes. “Red is a beautiful color on you. Is it blood? Is it embarrassment? We may never know.”

“It’s embarrassment,” Emily says in a flat tone.

“Don’t be embarrassed, pet. I watch you, too.”

“I’m going to go find a latrine.” Emily grabs the small shovel I used to dig the holes for the fires and disappears around the side of the building.

William slides over, taking her vacated spot next to me. “I need you to keep an eye on her while I head out.”

I turn my head to look at him. This is going to be interesting. “Yeah? Where ya heading?”

“Back to the highway to see if the rotters have moved on. I want to see if I can grab a few things from the car, and I’d like to do it before it gets dark.”

“What if they haven’t moved on?”

“Then I guess I’ll come back here.”

“And you don’t want Emily to know because she won’t let you go on your own. Yet you think I’ll let you wander off to an area filled with rotters, where we nearly lost half our group.”

“That pretty much sums it up.”

“Yeah, I’ll watch her. Not that you need to ask. I know we’re both well aware that none of us has stopped watching her since the day Griffin handcuffed her.”

He gives me a knowing look, but neither of us elaborates. We’ve been in this situation before. We all shared a woman once. It was right after the dead rose. Didn’t go so well. She sucked our lives from us more than the dead ever could. We were about to cut ties with her when we found a small colony of people who turned away Griffin because they were skeptical about the cut on his face, but that chick—don’t remember her name anymore, and don’t care—stayed with them. Well, we sort of abandoned her there, but she was happy to stay. She’s probably still there, making them as miserable as she made us. That thought gives me a smile.

Emily’s not like that, though. She breathed life into us. We were suffocating, and we didn’t even know it until we found her.

I nod in the direction Emily disappeared, not liking her being out of sight. I’m tempted to follow her when Buddy trots off in the same direction she went. She’ll be protected now. At least she’s wearing shoes and has weapons on her this time. “You might want to hurry up and get going before she comes back. I’ll figure out something to tell her.”

He dips his head in thanks and then takes off toward the highway. I’m not stupid. I know the exact items he’s going out to search for. The one thing that we won’t find in this small abandoned town.

The sound of leaves crunching gets closer as someone walks around the side of the building. I reach back for Debbie, just in case, but when Emily pops around the corner, I can’t help but grin. “Good timing, I was getting ready to check in on Griffin. Let’s go see how he’s doing.” I hold out a hand in front of me. “Hostages first.”

When shakes her head, I place a hand along her lower back and guide her in front of me through the door. Yet she still finds a moment to look back at me and glare, which makes me chuckle. “Thought I wasn’t a hostage.”

“You must think you are, since you thought I was talking about you.”

“Who else is here that you would refer to?”

I tap my thigh and Buddy comes running by. “Good boy.”

Emily rolls her eyes and rounds the couch to kneel on the other side, with Buddy sitting down right next to her. I stand behind them like a guard.

She gently presses the back of her hand against Griffin’s cheek and sighs. “His temperature is fine at least, but we can’t know anything more unless he wakes up.”

“He will. He’s too stubborn to die like this. We all are.”

She glances up at me and then looks out the door, where the sun is getting closer to the horizon. William shouldn’t be too much longer now.

Her hand slides down to his beating pulse on the side of his neck. She must like what she feels because her shoulders relax a little. She grabs the water bottle next to the couch and wets the cloth beside it before gently dabbing his forehead. I watch with interest while she cares for my friend, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m capable of earning that from her, too, or if I’m too messed up for it. My brother left me a broken mess, but I can still fantasize about her putting me back together again. The pieces will be jagged and some will be forever missing, but for the first time, I’m jealous. For the first time, I wish I was the one who was hurt and lying on the couch unconscious with her work of art adorning my skin, holding my organs in place.

“Where’s William?”

My gaze shifts from her hand that’s pressing the rag to Griffin’s skin, and I focus on her face. “He’s looking around for more supplies.”

“Like what? We have all we need right now.”

“That won’t last. We like to think ahead when we can. He promised he won’t be long.”

“He shouldn’t have gone out on his own,” she mutters, reaching for the blanket that’s covering Griffin.

“I already gave him that lecture, but please give him another one when he gets back. I’ll sit back and watch.”

She shakes her head and pulls the blanket back, then lifts Griffin’s shirt, exposing the healing wound. She runs her fingertip across his skin, along the outside of the stitches where the skin looks unbothered. “This was the second time I stitched someone up.”

“When was the first time?”

“Couple months ago.” She frowns and for a moment I worry that something is wrong with Griffin, before I realize she’s frowning at her own memory. Whatever she sees inside her head is troublesome, and I want to introduce it to Debbie. “When that guy stole our supplies and let the rotters in. I performed my first stitch job on someone who had been cut, but I didn’t realize until it was too late that she had been bitten. I put a bullet in her head myself.”

Interesting. “So there were more than just you and your friend?”

Her movements pause and her lip quivers as though trying to say something without saying something. I think I might’ve touched upon a secret of hers. I want to let it out. Watch it bleed all over the floor. “There were, yes. But that person is gone now.”

When she doesn’t elaborate, I decide to let it go for now. I know all about losing people. I still want to know all of her stories, though. Big and small, fascinating and boring. I want to cut her open—metaphorically, of course—and marvel at the goddess that she is. I want to read her story, and help her write the rest of it.

I’m getting attached. That’s undeniable. But I have no intention of severing what connects us.

“Do you think there’s a chance Griffin could’ve been bit?” I ask, looking at my friend fighting for his life right in front of me.

“Of course.” Her words send a rush shooting through me. Not a good rush, either. I don’t realize until right this moment what it could mean to lose either of my friends. I reach back and grab Debbie’s handle, but her next words have me pausing. “William and I checked over every inch of him. He wasn’t bit. We had the same worry.”

I breathe out a sigh of relief. The contrast of emotions is so intense that I need a minute. I stagger backward until I’m leaning back against the counter.

Griffin is going to be fine. He’s going to wake up and tolerate my crazy exactly like he has been since the dead rose.

William is going to be fine, too. He’s going to come back. And if he doesn’t, then I’ll go after him myself. I shouldn’t have let him go off on his own. But then Emily would be left to defend both herself and Griffin on her own, and I can’t have that. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to any of them.

I run a hand down my face. The reality of the situation hits me. I put myself in danger all the time. I find the fun in the apocalypse. But it’s too easy to forget that the possibility of losing any of them is very real. I don’t mind putting myself in danger, but I really don’t like it when they are.

“You okay?”

My eyes lift to where Emily is still kneeling next to Griffin and her blurry figure comes back into view. My fingers curl around the edge of the countertop behind me, and a sly grin turns up my lips. “Yeah, pet. I’m perfectly fine.”

Her eyes narrow. She doesn’t believe me. Smart woman.

I lift my chin to indicate Griffin. “He okay, there?”

“He’s fine.”

“Good. Let’s go, then.” I hold out a hand to her, which she takes after a moment of hesitation.

“Where are we going?”

“To explore.” I pull her to her feet and she stumbles, catching herself with her hand against my chest, my heart racing beneath her palm. “You worry too much.”

“I have reason to.”

“That you do. You know, I haven’t crossed paths with many people who will go to such great lengths to help others. Your friend, William with his arm, and now Griffin. Makes me wonder what you would do if I’m ever in trouble.”

“I can’t turn my back on those who need me.”

“That’s a rare quality. The changed world hasn’t knocked that out of you yet.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Yet?”

“Come on. Let’s see what kind of trouble we can find.”

The door creaks open and I walk through first. Everything is eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the rest of the world. It’s abandoned like the rest of the town. I reach back behind me and tug Emily inside. “Come on. It’s a bit dusty, but there must be something good around here.”

“I don’t like leaving Griffin behind like this.”

“We’re right next door, mere feet away. Plus, Buddy is with him.” I point at a window on the far wall. “Look, we can see them through this window here.”

She peers through the window and frowns. “No, I can’t.”

Moving behind her, I wrap my hands around her waist and lift her up so she can see. I knew she was tiny, but I didn’t realize how much until now. How can so much stubbornness fit inside such a tiny little thing? “Well, not them, exactly. But you can see the building. Now, what’s your poison?”

She waits until I set her back on her feet and take my place behind the bar before answering. Playing bartender tonight sounds like a good time. “Death cap sounds like a fun one.”

A smirk plays on my lips when I look at her. She’s serious. That’s adorable. Also, a little fucked up. I love it. “That sounds like a fun one, but I wasn’t intending to put mushrooms in your glass. Or anything that’s literal poison. I was thinking of something that might burn differently. Something along the lines of whiskey.”

She abandons the window and walks over so she’s standing across from me, her forearms resting on the bar top as she leans over to watch me work. “Well, that sounds more appetizing.”

“You scare me sometimes.”

“A little fear is healthy.”

“Not when you’re talking about eating poisonous mushrooms.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to eat them. Just that they sounded fun.”

“Anything with the word death in the name does sound fun,” I agree, then lay two whiskey tumblers on the bar top and open the ice machine to find there’s actually some ice in it.

“What’s that smirk for?”

“People in this town had their priorities in order. The general store doesn’t have power, but the ice machine in the pub next door does. The power company in this area must’ve lasted much longer than most of the other areas we’ve traveled through.”

“I wonder what happened to everyone,” Emily says, looking around at the dusty pub. “Someone must have recently abandoned it because a generator can only last for so long.”

“Rotters happened, pet. That herd that took us over? That was probably them. I’d bet my weapons on it.”

“All it takes is one bite to take out a whole town.” Her voice is barely a whisper now. She’s getting lost in her thoughts, and her thoughts at the moment aren’t great. I don’t like that. I want her thoughts to be on me. We can think about doom and gloom later on. There’ll be plenty of time for that. I’ll even make sure of it.

Grabbing the most expensive bottle of whiskey from the top shelf, I pour her a glass first and slide it closer to her. “Drink.”

She runs her finger along the rim of the glass, looking down into the amber liquid. Huh, I never realized how beautiful whiskey was before. There’s something familiar about the color. “I haven’t touched alcohol since the dead rose. Need to stay sharp and alert, never know what’ll happen, what danger is around the corner.”

“We’re the only living souls in this town. The only thing around the corner is a mosquito, and I’ll take him out, too. Besides, if a rotter stumbles in, I’ll take care of it. I’ll even remain sober to protect you better.”

She looks at me, and her eyes fill with something I haven’t seen in a very long time. At least, not geared toward me. Toward William, maybe, but never me.

Trust.

“I’m not joking, pet. Drink to your heart’s content. I promise I won’t swallow a drop.”

Lifting the glass, she tips her head back and downs the liquid before setting the glass back onto the bar again.

“Well, I’ll be damned. I thought you were going to be all girly and take a sip, then make a face and ask for something fruity instead.”

She scrunches her nose. “Not a fan of fruity drinks. Too sugary.”

I lean across the bar and grin. “Yeah, I guess something as sweet as you don’t need any added sugar.”

She opens her mouth to respond but then freezes when a noise sounds from somewhere off to the side. We both look in the direction it came from and see a door, likely leading to a back room.

I push off the counter and don’t have time to reach for Debbie before the door opens and three men walk in. Dregs. Or maybe survivors. I can’t tell if they’re dangerous yet, but they’re definitely alive.

Well, that’s surprising. I guess I was wrong. The mosquito isn’t the only other living thing around here, after all. I’m not a big fan of being wrong about things like this.

The first man looks me up and down before grinning from ear to ear. I don’t like his grin. It’s the kind of grin that looks pretty but holds something sinister. “Well, we haven’t seen another living person in months.”

“I’ll be damned,” the second man says, running his fingers through his hair and messing up his ponytail. What a stupid ponytail. It’s perfect for rotters to grab. Or crazy bastards like me who want to swing him around until his head pops off. Oh, that could be fun.

The third man is the largest of them all, with his arms crossed over his chest. He says nothing, but I sure as hell don’t like the way he’s looking at my pet right now. I’m tempted to put a hole in this bar between us so I can slide her over by my side.

The first two men jump into a series of questions. They’re laughing and smiling as though they found the jackpot of two survivors, while the third man doesn’t stop leering at Emily. If it weren’t for him, this encounter might not be too bad, though I also don’t like their questions. I’m barely paying attention to them. I’m too busy watching big, dark, and grumpy. The only big, dark, and grumpy one I’ll tolerate is Griffin.

“Just passing through,” Emily says with a breathy laugh, snapping my attention to her. I don’t like her giving her laugh to them, but there’s something in her laugh that has me on edge. She’s uncomfortable.

“So what’s your story, sugar?” the first guy asks, picking up a bottle of whiskey from the floor and dusting it off before taking a drink straight from the bottle. “Oh, that aged well. You know, we haven’t seen a living woman in a long time.” He chuckles when her body stiffens at his implication. Dreg. “Relax, sugar, we’re only talking. So, what’s your story?”

“I don’t have a story.”

“Everyone has a story.”

They’re asking way too many questions. I should feed them to Debbie for that alone. The only thing stopping me is the gun in his waist holster, and I’m willing to bet the other two are packing as well. We tend not to travel with guns much. We have a couple in the car for emergencies, but all guns do is attract rotters, being noisy and all.

“We’re just passing through. Saw a town and thought we could stock up on supplies. Turns out there really isn’t much here, only what’s in the bar here is worth the effort,” I say, drawing their attention away from Emily. I even slam down a few more glasses onto the bar and pour them drinks because I’m a great fucking guy like that, though Mr. Drink From The Bottle prefers to act like an animal.

The ponytail man accepts my drinks and downs it in one gulp before sliding the glass back to me like I’m the fucking bartender. He better tip well. I’ll accept payment in the form of his life if he doesn’t. “She with you?”

“Absolutely.” I should have done this the moment they stepped inside.

I reach over the bar top and hoist Emily over it until she’s sitting at the edge, facing me, with me standing between her parted thighs. Her hands land on my shoulders and I step in close. I smile when I hear her breath hitch once she realizes what I’m doing, but she doesn’t stop me. She leans into it. When I hold her beautiful face with one hand, her eyes flutter to my mouth before I press it against her soft lips. I kiss her hard. Sensual. And she’s responsive as fuck. A little noise sounds in the back of her throat and I wrap my other hand around her waist, pulling her closer, so that my hardening cock presses against her warm center, aching to become acquainted. In time, fella, in time.

My eyes open to watch the men. As much as I want to get lost in this woman right now, I don’t trust these guys any more than I trust the rotters that attacked us, and I’m right. The large silent one leers at us with an uncomfortable look of longing. The first man runs his tongue over his bottom lip, slowly. And the ponytail man shamelessly readjusts himself right in front of us, as though we’re the first porn he’s ever watched in his pathetic, insignificant life. He’s marked for death.

I pull away from Emily, feeling better now that we don’t have this long counter between us. She’s in front of me, in my arms, where she should be. Where I can protect her better. Because I know that I’m going to have to here real soon.

“So, you up for sharing?” the ponytail asks.

Emily holds my gaze when I answer. It’s difficult to do, but I keep my words light. Well, sort of. I throw in a touch of I’ll-cut-you, too. “I absolutely don’t share. She’s mine, and mine alone, so you guys should scat.”

Her fingers curl against my shoulder and I know what she’s thinking, but that’s not a conversation for right now. No. Right now, I need to get rid of these guys.

“Maybe we can work out a deal,” the first man tries, after taking another drink straight from the bottle. Fuck, man, I gave him a damn glass he won’t even touch. I won’t pour every single drink for him. Doesn’t anyone in this damn apocalypse have manners anymore?

“I don’t make deals. You can have this bar, and you can have this town, but you won’t ever touch my woman.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, then run my knuckles down her cheek, her neck, her collarbone. Death will be our foreplay.

“More people means more protection. We can all keep her protected. It’ll be a lot harder to do on your own,” the first man says, with more force this time.

“Maybe we should let the lady speak for herself,” the ponytail adds.

“Go away before I make you go away.” The playfulness in my voice is gone and replaced by something dark and cold. My hand drops to the hem of Emily’s shirt and slides up, roaming over her skin, to the place where my knife is secured in the bra holster I made for her. One of the guys’ breath hitches and I can’t wait until I make him stop breathing. I wrap my fingers around the small handle.

Emily wraps her small hand around my forearm, stopping me. I look into her eyes to see a stern look. She knows what I’m thinking, but it won’t change the outcome. I’ve killed the dead for her, and I’ll kill the living for her, too.

“You know what? That’s fine, actually. We were going to head over to the general store next, anyway,” the first man says.

Emily’s eyes widen and I see the panic there. I place a reassuring kiss on her lips.

“We were already there. Place was wiped out. Now it’s filled with dismembered rotters and barely any space to walk. Like I said, the only worthwhile building in this town is this one. That’s why we’re here,” I say, keeping my voice even.

Ponytail steps forward, rubbing his chin. “Seems like you don’t want us here, and you don’t want us over there, either. Must be something worthwhile. Got more girls waiting for you over there or something?”

“That all you care about? A place to warm your cock?”

“Hey, man, it’s been a long apocalypse.”

I tear my gaze away from Emily to look at the two men—wait, two. Where did the large silent one go off to? “Where’s your friend?”

The front door opens, and he strides on in. I tighten my hand on Emily’s hip and slowly slide the knife free from her holster. “He was right. There’s nothing over there other than some first aid supplies. No piles of dismembered rotters, though. Actually, there isn’t a single rotter limb in there.”

If looks could shoot daggers, all of them would be dead. “What else did you find?”

Emily shivers at the coldness in my voice, but I see the growing panic in her eyes. She reaches for her necklace, having the same thoughts as I am.

“I wouldn’t try anything if I were you,” the first man says. He’s pointing a gun at us with one hand, while taking another drink from the bottle in his other. I have confidence that his shot will be awful if he keeps drinking like this. Maybe I should pour him a few extra rounds.

“He found nothing.” William appears in the doorway and holds a knife to the large man’s throat.

“What the hell is this?” the first man yells. “She got you guys by the balls real good, yeah? You gonna play house in this dead town? Must have one hell of a pussy.”

I pull the knife from her bra holster and throw it at the first guy, getting him right through the left eye before throwing myself over Emily. His finger pulls the trigger on impulse and he ends up shooting his own guy before going down, his screams filling the air. Emily pulls the small knife from her necklace and throws it at the ponytail guy, but he moves so she only slices his cheek.

Picking up Emily and setting her on the floor behind the counter where she should be safe, I leap over the bar top, cut off his ponytail, then shove it into his mouth before sticking my knife in his gut. The first man’s screams stop on a gurgle and I glance over to see William taking care of him next, before picking up his gun and inspecting it.

“Hopefully no rotters heard that,” William grumbles, then looks over at Emily with worry. “Are you okay?”

The door to the backroom opens again and I pull the knife from the man’s gut and raise it, but it’s Griffin who enters. I let out a curse, but he ignores me and heads straight for Emily, helping her to her feet.

“You’re still hurt. You shouldn’t be moving this much,” Emily chastises him.

“Good thing I did, or that mountain of a man would have found me before William did. Besides, I’m fine.”

“Your stitches are bleeding,” she argues.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, now let’s get you back over there. I need to clean out your wound and restitch it again.”

William takes over with helping Griffin get back to the general building next door, and I grab Emily’s hand to hold her back. “You really are okay, aren’t you, pet? You weren’t only saying that to not worry him.”

My voice shakes a little when I ask. It surprises me. I know she wasn’t physically hurt, but hurt manifests in ways that no one else sees. This is the first time I’ve been this genuinely worried about someone’s feelings in…a really long time. I don’t understand how to deal with that.

She rests her palm against my cheek. It’s warm and calming. I press against it. Feeling every curve of her palm. I’m addicted to her touch in whatever form she’ll give it. “I’m fine, Max, I promise. Thank you for not being the kind of man who would have let them do whatever they want.”

Squeezing her hand with mine, my other hand reaches up to cup the back of her head and I rest my forehead against hers. “I’ll kill anyone who even looks at you wrong. Those men had a death sentence the moment I saw the look in their eyes. They weren’t leaving here alive.”

She looks in my eyes, and I mean, she really looks at me. I’m caught off guard because I expected her to give me one of those soft smiles of hers in thanks and then run off after William and Griffin, but she does something that surprises me yet again. She lifts onto her toes and kisses me. It’s not a brief, chaste kiss, either. She opens her mouth to me and invades my mouth like she’s invaded my every waking thought. Then, after a small hum, she backs away until her fingers slide from mine and she runs out the door.

My dick is rock hard.

Fascinating.