Chapter 4

It might have been the middle of winter, but it was way too warm in my apartment for pajamas. Max seemed comfortable in hers, and good for her, but I wanted to strip down to boxers. I wasn’t getting sleep tonight. It was probably three in the morning. Max was asleep, her back laid against my back. I had rolled over, and rolled her over, a half dozen times before she gave up, wiggled her butt into my butt, and wished me good night.

In her sleep, she had stolen the covers, and that still wasn’t enough to cool me down. Had she turned up my thermostat? I was wearing a t-shirt and flannel pants. My feet felt fine wiggling off the end of the bed. If she hadn’t been keeping me awake, I would’ve slept through the vibrations of my phone.

I rolled over, reached across Max’s shoulder, and picked my phone off the desk. If I hadn’t been exhausted, I’d have overthought it longer. I lay down on my back and saw the message from Sam.

“Hey babe, had a lousy night ... How was yours?” Her text was accompanied with a sexy picture of her in a low-cut red top and half-smirk. I sighed. Maxine rolled. It was a struggle as she stretched out across my shoulder and lay against my side. Her breath was still raspy and loud. Wake her up? Throw her off? I sunk into my pillow, snaking my left arm out over her head and hooking it back to my face.

Sam messaged again.

“Thinking of you.” The image that followed woke up every part of me. She had taken off her red top. I could see her light tan disappeared to bright flesh capped with light pink nipples. My eyes were drawn from her crooked grin to those large bare breasts. Her brown hair framed her chest, falling in streams off both of her shoulders. Her eyes were wide, bright, nervous. She was the most beautiful woman who’d ever shown me her body like this.

I took a deep breath. I dropped my phone on my desk. It buzzed again and again. Max snuggled across my body. She stabbed her fingers right in my throat. She snorted between her breaths. I looked down at her sleeping smile. I inched her hand onto my chest by her thumb. She drooled on my shoulder. She was way too hot. I wanted to be cool.

I closed my eyes. I’d talk to Max over breakfast. Get coffee with Sam. I’d put off Alex until dinner. Yeah, that was the plan.

I wasn’t certain if I had slept at all. My arm had stuck out over Max’s head all night. I was going to be sore when I moved it out of its stiff position. Her breathing slowed. Her eyes weren’t flickering about under their lids. I could tell she was suppressing a smile.

I was stiff. I was too hot. I was cranky. I needed to pee. She was an oven. She was rubbing her fingers in small circles over my belly. She was making a not-at-all subtle move down and down. I took a deep breath. I reached for her face and pinched her nose.

The sputter and flapping slaps of her fingers against my hand warmed the cockles of my heart.

“You’re awake?” I grinned.

“Yes! Fine, good morning!” she laughed as I released her nose.

“Good,” and I picked her up by the hip and shoulder. “Whatever you need to do in the morning, do it. Then we’re going for breakfast.”

“Really? OK!” she said just before I levered her and my comforter out of my bed. She had a lovely shriek. I swung my legs out over her. She was a small pile on the floor to jump. She was on her feet as I shut the bathroom door behind me.

That was as rough-edged as I got. I wanted this day done with. I breathed deep as I ran out of piss. I dried off my hands as I stepped out. The sun was cutting across my apartment. Max tugged the hem of her top up past her navel. She dropped it, blushing nervously. I realized this wasn’t her first attempt to strip. I smiled.

“Hey, sorry about the,” and I tilted my head towards the washroom. “Where do you want to go for breakfast?”

“I dunno, where do you want to--”

“We’ll go to Tara’s.” It was nicer, warmer, and the booths were more private than any of the dives I’d meet up with my brother at. She smiled but looked down. God, lose a little sleep and I’m an impatient prick... “Hey, so--”

“Do I have enough time to grab a shower first?” she erupted before zipping to the washroom. She closed the door behind her. I almost had a moment of peace, then realized she had reopened the door so it was noticeably ajar.

“You have as much time as you need,” I gruffed, and pulled the door all the way closed.

I grabbed my phone and collapsed into my armchair. Three more texts from Sam. No more pictures. I hadn’t deleted those first ones yet. I took a deep breath. These girls were too young, and I couldn’t involve myself without hurting at least two. I doubted all three wouldn’t end up hurt. I doubted I wouldn’t end up hurt.

“Sorry about your blah night. Coffee at 3. Play Grounds.” I texted and sank back into my chair. My phone immediately started buzzing.

I ignored the “Oh my god! Hey!!!” and every text that came after her second text: “I don’t drink coffee <sad face>.” Why would she type ‘sad face’ when there were perfectly good smileys, I wondered.

“They have iced tea, milkshakes, baked goods. Don’t focus on the coffee.” I redistributed the best advice my brother ever gave me. My phone buzzed in staccato on the coffee table as I dozed.

Several minutes later, Max woke me up by squeezing my hand. Her fingers were cool despite the warmth in her eyes. “Wa-aff-fles...” she chanted in hypnotic compulsion.

“Good.” I stood up. She was bundled up in her earmuffs and winter coat. She was pulling on a second glove. I saw the snow starting outside my window. It was a short walk.

“You got everything?” Maybe I should’ve gone with the gloves and boots, but I slung into a leather jacket and stepped into my sneakers.

“Ready to go!” she cheered. I frowned.

“Grab your bag,” I told her. “And don’t leave your textbooks.”

“I can come back later. No sense lugging around ... OK.” She must’ve seen my need for sleep. That’s the only way I was stern enough to get her to pack up. I offered to carry her bag. Goddammit, I forgot how heavy science textbooks were! I tried to be pleasant as I led her out.

It wasn’t all the way cloudy that morning, and the snow was light. It was about six streets and a sketchy alleyway to Tara’s. Sunday mornings were hell on any pancake place. Quarter after eight was early enough that we didn’t have to wait to sit down. I dropped her bag under the table.

“Max, hey.”

“Hey,” she grinned.

“Look, it’s not just...” I shut up as the waitress came by. She was gorgeous. A tall curly-haired redheaded woman. More slender, and a little older, than the three nineteen-year-old girls<i/> who were the current bane of my existence. Her nametag read ‘Gretchen’. I frowned. Last night it had been ‘Faye’.

“Welcome to Tara’s, special today is the blueberry stack.” She handed out the menus with an Irish brogue I remembered. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Uh...” I blanked.

“Early morning, huh?” she asked with a big smile. Max was eyeing her with skepticism and hostility.

“Can’t be as early as yours, though.” I forced a smile. “After last night?”

“Oh, yes, of course!” She lit up like a switch had been flipped. “It’s good to see you! It’s not the same kinda place, is it? I can’t say they have the right wine to pair with your flapjacks in the back.”

“You know each other?” Max asked.

“Not for long,” I admitted. “Are you ordering anything to drink?”

I let the lady go first. I mirrored her decision of orange juice. Nothing like a high-caloric sugar bomb to start a morning. Oh, and coffee. Does it come intravenously?