Fauxmance in the City

Chapter 12

"Do you want me to walk you up to your room?" Max stands by the doors from the foyer, looking into the living room where I've been sitting for the last ten minutes, staring at the floor, thinking of how to salvage tomorrow. But I'm bone-tired, and my mind is mush.

 When I'm on the set of Good Day USA, it's a well-oiled machine. But "on location"—as this is referred to—there's a lot more planning. I spent hours with Karen in preproduction meetings this week as she went through every shot.

"Okay," I say.

"Thank you for putting up with me tonight." Max slides his gaze to the steps, and a soft emotion—sadness? melancholy?—crosses his features before he turns his gaze back to me. "It's nice to be in a home. Hospital living is tough, but Aunt Gilli was right. Being in a home is different. Better."

"Will you stay with your aunt and uncle after the special is over?"

"They have an odd relationship, don't you think?" Max cocks one side of his mouth up. "I hope after I'm married that long I don't treat my spouse as a business partner. Otherwise, what's the point of getting married?"

His gaze lingers on my face. I turn away, unsure if he's inferring anything. Walking in the dim, secluded hallway at night has a soft romantic vibe. I steal a glance at Max. He's handsome, but Sam flashes in my mind, and a warm, cloying feeling circles my belly.

"This is me." I lean against the wall outside the master suite, delaying what waits behind that door. A night spent with Sam. One bed. Two people.

Physically, I'm in the hallway but my mind is behind those doors, imagining what comes next. Nothing tonight. I can't handle it, but my mind and libido don't always agree, and I can feel myself faltering.

"You okay?" Max asks, his dark eyes hooded with concern.

Suddenly, I have the urge to tell him the truth about everything. My hand physically moves to my mouth to prevent the ridiculous impulse.

"You're a breath of fresh air." He chuckles, and it vibrates down the hallway. "Man, that was cheesy. But my life has been so weird filled with empty spaces in my mind. I hate to say it, but I think my aunt was right. This may be just what I need to get back to myself."

My heart aches for this lost boy. I have to pull this off. Not just for me and the people caught in my net of lies. But for Max.

"It'll get better," I say.

Max smiles sardonically. "I doubt it."

"Why do you say that?"

He shrugs. "From everything I've been told about my life, better isn't guaranteed."

I wrap my hand around his forearm, my mouth pulling down at the corners. There's so much pain locked inside him. He may not be able to remember it, but he vibrates with it.

The door next to us bangs open, I jump. Sam stands silhouetted in the doorway, his eyes locked on my hand on Max's arm, our shoulders leaning in toward each other. I'm ready for Sam to lunge at the poor guy. Instead, he yanks me inside the room and slams the door on Max.

My jaw tightens. I'm tired of Sam manhandling me like I'm his property.

"Sam, what the—"

He holds his palm in front of my face, cutting me off. His gaze is stormy, but his eyes are rimmed with something else—jealousy, hurt, frustration—I can't tell. He curtains whatever emotion was there, and without a word, he goes into the bathroom and kicks the door shut, the shower turning on a moment later.

It's been an exhausting day. My emotions are heightened, and all I want to do is go to bed and forget about Sam and the ruined meal. Unfortunately, all my toiletries are in the bathroom, where Sam is probably cursing me out as he showers.