Concerning Chance ✔

TWENTY-SEVEN

The gentle rocking of the train threatens to lull me to sleep. It's dark now; we had to wait for a while in the train station to catch the last train back to New Ridge. So far, the return journey seems to be taking longer. Maybe it's because we couldn't convince Naomi Harm into caring about her daughter enough to forgive her.

I texted my parents and told them I'm hanging out with Max. Max told him that he was hanging out with Heather.

"Trust me," he told me earnestly, "They'd rather I knock up a girl than be on a train alone with another guy."

I simply nodded, wondering if this is how I made Max feel whenever I was too busy with Chance to even think about him. Betrayal stings.

"I wish we could help Felix," I murmur, forcing my eyes wide open to look over at Max. We're separated by a table again.

"Can't we just save one Harn at a time?" There's no malice in his words as he shakes his head sadly, undoubtedly relating to Felix's predicament. "You can't save everyone, Rory."

I want to save you, though, Max. I want to save you from your dad and all the awful things he does to you and how he makes you feel like you're not worthy of love, I think but don't bring myself to say the words.

Instead, I say, "Do you want to sit next to me?"

Max is up like a shot. "Yeah."

I swing my legs off the seat beside me to make room for him. His proximity, I realise as he slides in next to me, makes my nerves thrill inside me.

I wonder if he feels this too.

So I shut my head off from overthinking and ask him if he feels it too. Embracing the fact I need to open up to my feelings to feel the good stuff too — just like Max said at the bonfire.

"You might have to specify what you're on about." Max's mouth twists into a smirk.

"Like, a sort of excitement when we're close. Even if we're not touching. It makes me feel... tense, but in a good way," I explain as clearly as I can; it's tough to explain the inexplicable.

"Are you telling me that I make you horny, Rory Brewer?" His knee nudges against mine and he leans closer to me, and I feel that rushing excitement escalate.

Taking advantage of this newfound sexual confidence, I counter, "What if I am, Max Bellamy?"

"Then I wish we weren't on a public train."

"We're in an empty carriage." I point out.

"But anyone could walk in any minute..."

"Can I kiss you?" I rush out before he can say anything else.

"Rory, you've no idea how badly I've been wanting you to ask that question," he admits, his cocoa-brown gaze resting on my lips.

My heart flutters in my speechlessness.

Bringing a hand to the back of Max's neck, I lean in and press my lips against his. He moves closer and kisses me back. Even this gentle, soft kiss sets my body on fire — I don't let myself dare imagine what a hard kiss would feel like.

As if reading my thoughts directly, Max gasps and intensifies the kiss — sliding his tongue against mine seamlessly. His hand finds my leg and slides up my thigh, curving in towards my crotch.

I break off the kiss to suck in a breath — it's my turn to gasp.

"I— Sorry." Max starts moving his hand away, but I grab onto it and replace it.

"That was a good gasp," I reassure him.

"Okay." He forces a smile onto his face, but he seems to have startled himself — I guess this is almost as new to him as it is to me.