AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Most men would get frostbite after one night with you. You’re lucky I stick around like I do.”
Sloane gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand, the other squeezing the phone like a lifeline. She was temporarily unable to process the meaning behind his words. She couldn’t believe he’d just said that. The tears she fought so hard to hold back came streaming down her cheeks with a vengeance.
Max pushed away from the wall and stalked toward her. She held up a hand in a stop motion. No way could she let him interfere—she had to get used to doing things on her own again. She had to be the one to do this. She had to break this cycle, but Brody kept right on talking.
“I looked at you and thought I’d won the lotto. I was wrong. How can a woman as hot as you be so fucking dead inside?”
Every word was like a knife through her heart. She cared about him…no. Maybe what she really cared about now was the person he had been, but he hadn’t beenthatBrody in some time. The sex wasn’t great now like it had been in the past. That was before Brody thought their sex life should resemble a BDSM porn flick. Not that she thought there was anything wrong with them, but that life just wasn’t for her. She’d thought that as long as there was open communication, two people in love could work that out.
She wasn’t really in love with him yet, but there had been potential. If he only could’ve kept his dick in his pants.
But no more. Now, she was through bending over backwards to try to please him.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I tried. I really did try to be what you wanted, but obviously I failed. This isn’t working.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This, us. It’s over. I can’t do it anymore.”
Sloane hung up the phone before Brody could say anything else. Her face was damp with spilled tears. She couldn’t stand the idea of Max witnessing another meltdown, so she pushed past him. She didn’t stop moving until she was curled up on the bed again.
She did it. She’d ended things with Brody. How could she have been so stupid? For almost a year she stayed with him knowing deep down it was wrong. She should have walked after the first time she caught him with another woman. Not that any of it mattered anymore. Sloane lay there for a long time. Long after her sobs ceased. Today would hurt. She would let the pain wash over her. She would feel everything and let it be a reminder to her future self. Today would hurt, but tomorrow she would be better.
***
Max
Max was beyond furious. He wanted to put his fist through that asshole’s face. Thinking of Sloane upstairs crying only made it worse. He wanted to go to her. Wrap her in his arms and tell her it was the best thing she could have done, but he knew she wouldn’t let him. As much as he wanted to, he knew he shouldn’t. He couldn’t let himself get more attached than he already was. He didn’t do relationships, and even if he did, he wasn’t good enough for someone like her. He would only hurt her in the end, and she was already broken enough. That’s what he kept telling himself.
Needing to release some of the pent-up aggression, Max opened the door to the basement and descended into his personal gym. The room wasn’t huge, but it was all he needed. An exercise bike sat along the wall, across from the clothes washer and dryer. Next to that, a treadmill. The adjacent wall framed in the weight bench and the shelving for all the free weights. A punching bag and medicine bag rounded out the equipment before him. He clicked on the radio already tuned to a station that played a little bit of everything. This is what he needed to keep his head straight.
He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them off, replacing them with a pair of athletic shorts he hadn’t yet removed from the dryer. His running shoes were where he’d left them by the weight bench. After slipping them on, he positioned himself on the side rails of the treadmill.
Max set the pace slow to warm up, and his feet touched the conveyer belt in a slow jog. After a few minutes his thoughts quieted completely. Nothing except his breathing and the music on his mind. Max could feel the tension draining slowly from his body. The DJ stopped talking and a song about a woman being out of the singer’s league poured from the surround sound speakers. Instantly he thought of Sloane.
Yup. That about sums it up in a nutshell.Knowing that didn’t stop his thoughts from returning to this morning. The way she’d held onto him, sliding her silky leg up his rough one. Did she register the sharp intake of his breath when she wrapped her hand around his balls, sliding up his shaft? No matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t keep his body from responding. A few more minutes of that, and he would’ve had her on her back spread before him. It was like a dream, a sexy fantasy about to be fulfilled. Until she raised those gorgeous baby blues to his.
The fantasy shattered into a million pieces as embarrassment washed across her features. Even that was adorable as all hell. After fisting himself to completion last night thinking of those perfect legs, it was nice to know she was just as affected by him as he was by her. It was the regret and realization that he wasn’t Brody that ruined it. He’d kept things light, acting as if it were no big deal. But inside, he’d been berating himself.
He couldn’t think of her like that anymore. He needed to put her in a mental box. Label her, “client,” and maybe his dick would stop trying to do his thinking for him. He never crossed the line with his clients. Maybe that was the answer to this whole clusterfuck.
A loud rock song came on next. It was one that he couldn’t remember the name to, but it helped set his resolve. Kicking up the speed, Max started running. Focusing on the beat, he let the music take him away. Sweat ran down the sides of his face, stinging his eyes.
Occasionally he dabbed his face on a towel that hung over the handrail of the machine. His shirt was soaked through, clinging to him everywhere. He wasn’t sure how long he ran. The burn in his muscles indicated it was a long time.
He slowed the machine down. He walked long enough to avoid cramping before he pulled the tank top off and threw it into the almost empty hamper.
Retrieving a bottle of water, he cracked the seal and had drunk half of it by the time he reached the living room. The light on his answering machine blinked rapidly, informing him there was a message waiting. He pressed Play, finishing off his water while listening.
“Maxwell, honey, it’s mom. I’m sorry I missed you again. I worry about you; give me a call. I love you.”
Beep.
“Heeeyyyy, Max. It’s Charlie. I haven’t heard from you in a while, baby. I was hoping you’d come over to play. Get your handcuffs ready and call me back.”
Beep.
Max shook his head, a small smile lifting one side of his mouth. Charlie was one of his “go-to girls.” She didn’t mind a casual thing. That was perfect for Max. He didn’t want anything permanent.
