Page 69 of In Your Wake

“Tucker, what the—”

Only, it’s not Tucker.

Mitch

Maxine opens the door, cheeks flushed, her loose hair a mess, and she seems out of breath, too.

“Mitch? What the fuck are you doing here?” she snaps.

“Everything okay?”

“Never better. But you’re the one standing outside my apartment in the middle of the night.” Sudden concern wipes away any blush she had as her hand falls from the doorknob. “Is it Bill?”

“No, nothing like that. He’s fine.”

“Oh, good.” Her shoulders sag. “So, why are you here?”

“Mind if I come in?”

“Umm…” A deep frown wrinkles her forehead. After three blinks, she runs a hand through her loose hair and shrugs. “I guess not.”

She moves aside, and that’s when I notice the TV. Or rather, what’s on screen.

I laugh, my eyes widening. “Am I disturbing something?”

She follows my gaze. “Oh, shit.” She rushes to switch it off and throws the remote onto the couch, then rubs a hand behind her neck, keeping her eyes down. “That was… I wasn’t watching it.”

I raise my hands. “Hey, what you do in your own time is entirely your thing.”

She juts her chin, crossing her arms. “You’re right. I’m a grown-ass woman and sometimes, I watch porn. So, sue me.”

Loving how proud she’s forcing herself to be, I smile. Then again, this could be actual pride. For all I know, Maxine might have become a sexually confident woman and isn’t that shy, awkward girl I remember.

The couch cushions are strewn about everywhere. The thought that she might have been touching herself isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever imagined.

I lose focus.

What was she doing when I showed up? Had I been a few minutes later, would I have overheard her coming?

I wince. I’m way too interested in knowing the answer to that.

“Seriously, Mitch,” she says, snatching me from my thoughts. “Why are you here? It’s—” She stops and checks her watch. “Two in the morning?” It’s as if she’s surprised it’s so late. “What are you doing here at two in the morning?”

I circle the couch and take a seat, trying hard to stop picturing her naked and spread-eagle in the same spot. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to pop by.”

“I’ve been thinking about our talk yesterday and what happened with my dad earlier. None of it is sitting well.”

“Oh, it’s way too late to be talking about this,” she states and finally joins me on the couch, hopping over the back of it.

“So what? You’re up, anyway.” My eyes drift toward the dark television screen. “Unless you’d like to get back to whatever you were doing.”

“I’ve had a day, Mitch. So, maybe I do. It might do me good to let off some steam.” She grins, but the way she bites down on the tip of her pink tongue draws my eye and heats my blood.

Distracting myself, I pick up the bottle of green liquid from the coffee table, its cool glass a stark contrast to my warm hand, and scan the label.

I spent most of my evening trying to forget everything my father brought up and made me rehash. I’d like to say it worked, but instead, I kept trying to figure out exactly why I’m so mad. Not only with my dad, but with Max, and especially with myself.