Valerie's POV

I can't find anything to wear.

Every possible outfit in my closet had been tossed across the room in a frenzy, and not one felt right. I am not asking for much, just something that could work—a cute dress, a simple but casual outfit. But it was official; I was out of decent clothes.

Groaning, I sank onto the edge of my bed, eyeing the chaos around me with despair. My closet door hung open, spilling with rejects, each hanger like a silent mockery. I rested my head in my hands, dramatically bracing myself for a minor existential crisis over one very simple, yet very crucial fact.

The thought of going to dig into Mom's closet felt very appealing now. I knew she had really good outfits from back in the day that could fit me well. After coming from college, I dropped Reneé at her friend's place, and she told me that mom wouldn't be back tonight, so maybe it wouldn't be big of a crime if I borrowed one simple outfit, right?

I stood up, hesitant in my steps as I slipped down the hall toward her room. I hovered outside, feeling oddly like I was about to trespass into a place I'd only rarely dared enter. Taking a steadying breath, I gripped the cool metal of the door handle and twisted.

The room was so pristine it almost felt untouched, as if someone had smoothed out every sheet and pillow just moments before. The bed, perfectly made, seemed undisturbed, almost like no one ever slept on it before. I felt an odd weight settle in my chest as I crossed the threshold, trying to shake the nervous thrill as if I were stepping into forbidden territory.

I made my way to the closet and pulled it open, stopping short as my gaze fell on Dad's clothes, still neatly hung on one side. My heart clenched as I took them in, pressed and waiting in perfect silence. She'd kept them all this time...like maybe, someday, he'd come back to fill them.

I bit the inside of my cheek, steadying myself against the rush of emotion, and shut that side of the door gently, as if not to disturb a very cherished memory.

Turning to the other side, I scanned through Mom's clothes until my hand found a soft, long-sleeved dress that brushed just above the knee. The fabric was a deep, rich green—the exact shade that, for some silly reason, Max loved to see me wear. I couldn't help but smile as I smoothed the dress against my chest, feeling the velvety material under my fingertips, already picturing pairing it with my favorite boots.

I slipped it from the hanger, giving the dress a once-over, just to make sure of my choice. After carefully closing the closet door, I attempted to straighten out anything I'd touched, hiding my little crime.

But before I turned to leave, something held me in place. I found myself glancing back at the room, as if trying to find answers to questions I was not able to voice out loud. My eyes drifted to the nightstand falling over the framed picture standing there. My breath caught in my throat as I crossed the room, laying the dress gently on the bed before reaching for the photograph, cradling it as if it could slip right through my fingers.

My gaze lingered on his face—a face I'd missed so achingly, in ways I could never put into words. This photo was from back in the day, when they were still at college, almost my age. He was laughing, his arm wrapped around her, and she...she was wearing his favorite biker jacket, her expression lit up with pure, unguarded happiness. She'd never smiled like that again, not once since he'd been gone.

The weight of our shared loss sank over me like a heavy blanket, and I dropped down onto the edge of the bed, tracing his face through the glass, the memories hitting harder than I'd prepared for.

A tear slipped down my cheek, blurring my view of the photo. Before I could lose myself in the sorrow, I forced myself to set it back on the nightstand, steadying my breath. But as I did, something behind the frame caught my eye—a small, amber bottle, partially hidden. I picked it up, turning it over to read the label, and my heart dropped; it was a very powerful antidepressant.

A pang of guilt and realization shot through me, I couldn't breathe. I'd been waiting, hoping she'd be the one to lift me up, to help me find my way. But maybe, just maybe, I needed to be the one reaching out to her. I had to find a way to help her, to pull her back before we lost each other entirely. Before I lose her too.

I placed the bottle back with a heavy heart before smoothing the bed covers. Clutching the dress tightly, I left, nearly rushing out as if escaping the weight of the room—the weight of everything we lost.

Back in my own room, I rubbed my chest, trying to dull the ache, but it only grew sharper, each pang stirring up emotions I wasn't ready to face. I forced myself to push through it, took a quick, cold shower, and slipped into the dress. I added a touch of makeup with whatever product I still had left—just enough to add a hint of color to my face—and let my hair fall loose around my shoulders, hoping it might soften the lingering sadness.

As I pulled on my boots, the doorbell rang. My heart immediately picked up speed, pounding against my ribcage, and my stomach twisted, sending a swarm of nerves fluttering through me. It was ridiculous, almost laughable, how nervous I felt, as if this was my first date with him all over again.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, willing the nerves to settle, and opened the door.

My gaze found his instantly, those unmistakable green eyes—the same eyes that always seemed to capture me, softer and deeper than I could ever put into words. I found myself falling into them, like stumbling into a hidden forest after a very devastating storm. His eyes softened as they roamed over my face, his expression shifting from mesmerized to something almost reverent.

He wore a deep olive bomber jacket, one that highlighted the color of his eyes and brought out every angle of his jawline, chiseled and unyielding yet somehow gentle tonight. His soft hair was tousled in that effortless way, giving him an edge that only he seemed to pull off. And the way he was looking at me, his gaze tracing over me with a stunned, breathless admiration, it was as if he was seeing me for the first time, taking in every detail and committing it to memory.

"I keep thinking you can't possibly get any more beautiful, but somehow, you always do," He whispered, his eyes gazing right into mine, as if nothing else in his world existed, seeing me for all I am and still wanting every part of me; the broken, the bad, and the good. All of it.

My lips curled up into a smile, his words heating my skin till I was burning, and before I could say anything, he took one step closer, closing the space between us. His hand slid up, warm and steady, it rested on the side of my neck, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin beneath my jaw and before I could breathe, I was breathing only him as he pressed his lips into mine, pulling me so close to his warmth.

His kiss was different from before, it wasn't tentative or hesitant, no, it held a possessive hunger, a tenderness layered with intensity, as though every unspoken word between us was pouring out through the connection of our mouths. Each stroke of his lips against mine spoke volumes, one that apologized for the way things turned between us lately, and one that conveyed his feelings for me, deep, raw, and different than anything he'd ever experienced.

His tongue delved into my mouth and I tasted all of him, my hand sneaking up his face, cupping his cheek, feeling him so close to me. My stomach was doing that thing again, and my heart was beating too fast as though it might jump out.

My entire world narrowed to the taste of him—the minty sharpness and something inherently, unmistakably just him. I didn't realize he was guiding me back until my spine met the wall. His body pressed into mine surrounding me with his warmth. One hand slid down the curve of my arm to rest on my waist before it traveled lower, settling at the small of my back to pull me even closer.

He captured my bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling gently before letting go, his breath mingling with mine in the charged silence. Slowly, my eyelids fluttered open, and I found him staring down at me, his gaze heavy with emotions and something deeper, something primal.

"Now, that's more like it," I murmured, my voice unsteady but slightly teasing as I addressed my previous words, my lips still tingling from his kiss.

The corner of his mouth quirked up, and his fingers traced the curve of my lips, in a feather-light touch. He leaned in, brushing a softer, more tender kiss against my mouth, one that left me aching for more, "I missed the way you taste," he murmured, his voice thick with longing as he pulled back just enough to meet my eyes.

"Strawberries?" I questioned, my eyebrow arching in mockery at how he always says that.

He nodded, utterly serious, "Yeah."

I shook my head at him, "One day Imma put into an anaphylactic shock," I commented. He shrugged, careless, smiling at me in a way I couldn't describe, "It would be worth it."

I cleared my throat, nudging him gently to create a bit of space, desperate to regain even a sliver of composure. My hands smoothed over the fabric of my dress, though it did little to calm the fire simmering beneath my skin. My lips felt tender and swollen, and my heartbeat was so loud in my ears.

Max, of course, noticed every single twitch in my body language. His eyes stayed glued to me, trailing every movement with a soft, knowing smile that only made the heat in my cheeks worse. He shoved his hand casually into his pocket, looking entirely too pleased with himself, more than ready to stay here and gaze at me all night long.

"Did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?" he said again, his voice warm and easy, as if he wasn't absolutely wrecking me from the inside out.

I tried to brush him off, to not let my blush spread all over, to stop the goosebumps from erupting all over my skin but I kept failing. I shrugged, my cheeks burning fire, "Maybe once or twice," I muttered.

"Well, it's worth repeating," he said, so softly.

"Well," I cleared my throat, "You don't look so bad yourself," I said, trying to shift the conversation away from me.

"Not so bad? I'll take that as a compliment," He said, his own brow arching with mock offense.

I rolled my eyes and his smile softened. "Shall we?" he asked, his hand extending toward me, an amused glint lighting up his green eyes.

With a low breath, I rested my hand in his bigger protective ones, "We shall," I murmured. His fingers curled around mine, grounding me with a warmth that spread through my whole body as he led me toward the door.

After locking up, I let him guide me to his car. Ever the gentleman—or at least trying to be—he opened the passenger door for me, "M'lady," he said making me shoot him a playful look as I slid inside.

He joined me right after, roaring the engine, and pulled the car into the street. One hand rested casually on the wheel, while the other found mine as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His fingers threaded through mine, warm and steady, his thumb idly stroking my palm.

"Are you cold?" he asked, glancing at me briefly before turning his attention back to the road.

I shook my head, I was burning still, "No," I said.

He nodded before lifting my hand to his lips. He pressed a featherlight kiss against my knuckles, the warmth of his breath sending shivers up my spine. When he lowered my hand, he didn't let go. Instead, he kept it cradled in his own, his fingers lacing securely through mine.

I couldn't help but stare at our hands—his so big, strong, and steady against my smaller, softer one. A feeling stirred in me, foreign yet achingly familiar, like a melody I'd forgotten but couldn't stop humming now.

"So," I began, trying to pull my thoughts together, "where are we going?"

"There is this really good restaurant in the city, I think you'll like it," He said.

My eyes narrowed at him, "And how many girls exactly have you taken there before," I said, turning my tone playful.

He turned to me, shooting me a knowing glare, "No one," He said, "My dad takes my mom there very often," He added, and that was all it took to melt me into a puddle.

I could feel the edges of my heart softening, folding in on itself. "Sounds nice," I murmured, my voice quiet, the words barely making it past the knot in my throat.

I leaned forward, turning on the radio. Low music filled the car, its gentle hum smoothing over the tension that had been building in me since the night began. I felt myself start to relax, sinking into the moment.

"You know," Max began, glancing at me, "I just realized something."

I glanced over at him, "What's that?"

"This is the first time I've taken you out on a real date," he admitted, his brow furrowing as the realization settled in, "I mean, we usually hang out at the campus, at the coffee shop, or at my place or yours. But I've never done this," he seemed so very dissatisfied with the fact, "Why haven't I?"

I shrugged, trying to keep my voice light, "I am always too busy. I probably didn't give you much of a chance."

He seemed to think it through and then nodded his head, "Yeah, true, phew, it's all your fault," He added with an arched eyebrow, more than willing to blame me.

I narrowed my eyes at him. He chuckled softly, his expression sobering as he slowed the car at a red light. Turning fully to face me, his gaze softened, those striking green eyes locking onto mine, "On a more serious note," He said, "I think this might actually be my first time taking a girl on a date. Like, a real one."

"Really?" I asked.

He nodded, "Yeah, usually we skip to my bed first," He added and I shot him a glare, I wanted to smack him, "Asshole," I grumbled.

He chuckled lowly, the voice so warm and gentle as it echoed into the car. He leaned back against his seat, his eyes still gazing at me, seeing nothing but me. They flickered down to my attire, "I love your dress," he said, making me feel hot and bothered all over again.

His eyes flickered back into mine, and his smile grew a bit bigger, a fraction softer, "And I love your face."

Not 'like', no, it's love. God, I am gonna die today.

His eyebrows pulled closer, "Did I tell you how breathtakingly beautiful you look tonight?" He said, yet again and I chuckled, "Max!" I shot out, scolding him, my cheeks blazing as I tried to deflect his relentless compliments.

He chuckled, leaning in until his lips brushed against my cheek, a fleeting, tender kiss that left me buzzing, "What can I do," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin, "I love it when you blush," He added, throwing the L-word ever so casually, like it didn't unravel me every time.

When we arrived at the restaurant, Max handed off the car to the valet and then guided me toward the entrance. His hand rested lightly against the small of my back as we stepped inside.

The restaurant was elegant without being overbearing—a warm glow cast by pendant lights, soft jazz humming in the background, and tables draped in crisp white linen. The place felt sophisticated, but something was inviting about it too, like a very cozy house.

The hostess greeted us with a polite smile and led the way through the dining area. Max stayed close, his hand never leaving my back, and with every step, my nerves seemed to double. By the time we reached our table, my palms felt clammy, and I was almost certain he could hear the rapid drumming of my heart. Why was I so much nervous, for god's sake?

"Here we are," the hostess said, gesturing to a small table tucked near a large window. The view of the city lights twinkled just beyond the glass, but my focus was entirely on Max as he pulled out a chair for me, being ever so gentlemanly today and ruining my nerves even more.

"After you," he said, his smile soft but teasing as if he knew exactly how flustered I was.

As I sat down, my gaze wandered, flitting between the couples scattered around the room. They were cocooned in their little worlds, speaking in hushed tones, sharing fleeting touches, and sipping wine as though the outside world didn't exist. My eyes eventually returned to Max. He was already looking at me, his sharp eyes tracking the nervous fidget of my hands smoothing over my lap and the way I shifted in my seat like I couldn't quite settle.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his brow creasing, concern etched across his face.

I shook my head quickly and cleared my throat, feeling exposed under his unwavering gaze. "Nothing," I said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes.

His frown deepened, his head tilting slightly as if to get a better read on me. "Valerie, if you don't like it here, we can go somewhere else. Anywhere you want—" His voice was low and reassuring, the kind of calm that made my heart clench.

"No, no," I rushed out, shaking my head. "I do like it here. It's just...uh..." My voice wavered as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, avoiding his piercing stare. "I'm just nervous, and I don't know why."

His brows knit closer together, his hand reaching across the table to cover mine. His touch was steadying, "It's not like it's our first time being together," he pointed out gently, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.

"I know," I murmured, inhaling deeply as if it would settle the chaos inside me. "It's just...I guess I'm not used to being or feeling like this, and you make me feel this way—happy, excited, and I keep thinking something's going to happen to ruin it," My voice lowered at the end, shame curling in my chest at the vulnerability of my words.

Max's grip on my hand tightened, reassuring, "Nothing bad will happen, Valerie," he said firmly, his gaze steady and sure, "At least not tonight. I promise you that."

I let out a slow breath, my lips curving into a faint smile, "Yeah, you're right," I whispered, shoulders easing as I nodded.

"Good," he said, his eyes softening. He leaned back slightly and picked up the menu, his lips quirking into a grin, "Now let's order. I'm starving."

I smiled, shaking off the last vestiges of my nerves as I reached for the menu, "Same," I admitted, feeling the weight of hunger gnawing at my stomach.

As our food arrived and we ate, Max told me all about what happened with his Dad and Nikolas. Relief flooded me as he explained how things had begun to mend between them all.

"You know," I said, spearing a piece of food with my fork, "I know you complain about it but I think it's kind of cool to have two dads."

He shot me a glare and my smile widened, "Come on, really, especially when they're ready to do anything for you," I pointed out, "you can't deny that."

His gaze dropped to his plate, and a contemplative silence fell between us. Finally, he sighed. "I guess so...I mean, he's not all bad," Max admitted, his voice quieter, softer.

"He's not," I agreed. Considering the few times I've met the man, he has been nothing short of nice and gentle, "And he really cares about you, Max. You can see it in everything he does."

Max nodded slowly, as though the weight of his own thoughts was pressing down on him. "Yeah," he murmured. "I told him I want to be a part of his kids' lives."

"That sounds great," I said with a small smile, "Does he have another kid?" I asked, recalling the boy who was at the campus once.

He nodded, his expression softening, his lips curving into a genuine smile, "Yeah, a little girl," he said. His voice grew even warmer, "You should see her. She's so cute."

My heart melted at the way he spoke, "Maybe you'll let me meet them too one day," I suggested gently.

Max's smile spread wider, his eyes lighting up at my offer to be a part of everything he is, "I'd love that," he said.

Our conversations stretched endlessly, a blend of everything and nothing, flowing so naturally that time seemed irrelevant. The tension that had clung to me earlier dissolved bit by bit, replaced by a warmth that settled in my chest. I let myself sink into the moment, savoring it fully.

When we stepped outside, the cool night breeze greeted us, sending a shiver cascading over my skin. I rubbed my arms reflexively as Max turned to me, his gaze soft yet attentive, "Would you mind if we walked for a bit?" he asked, his voice quiet, testing the waters.

I shook my head, smiling. "No, I'd love to."

His answering smile was warm and quick as he slid his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to his side as we began walking. I leaned into him, "Where to?" I asked, my voice light with curiosity.

"There's a carnival not far from here," he said, glancing down at me. "We can check it out, see if there's anything fun, and then head home."

"That sounds exciting."

As we strolled through the quiet streets, Max must have noticed the way I huddled closer against the breeze. Without hesitation, he paused, shrugged off his jacket, and draped it over my shoulders in one smooth motion. The warmth it carried—and the intoxicating scent of his cologne—wrapped around me like a comforting cocoon.

"But what about you?" I asked, frowning slightly as I eyed his short-sleeved shirt. "You'll be cold."

Max shook his head with a soft smile, "I'm fine," he said simply, then grabbed my hand and pressed it to his forearm, "See? Warm as ever."

It wasn't the warmth of his skin that struck me—it was the hard, defined muscle beneath my fingertips. My cheeks heated instantly as I shamelessly let my fingers glide over his bicep, squeezing lightly. "God," I breathed, before I could stop myself. "You have the best biceps," the words left me without any control.

Max's eyebrow raised, eyeing me with utter amusement, always liking any compliment I threw his side. I gave him a knowing look, "Well, sue me, I have a thing for biceps, and you have the best ones," I said, ever so shameless.

He chuckled lowly, the sound rumbling deliciously, "A bicep fetish?" He said, "Never heard that one before."

Rolling my eyes at his teasing, I shot him a look. "Oh, like you don't have your own weird fetishes."

He nodded his head, "Fair point. Want me to list them for you?"

I grimaced, shaking my head quickly. "Nope. I have a feeling they'd make me like you less, and I don't want to risk that."

Max chuckled again and tightened his hold around me, pulling me even closer to his side. My head rested so close to his chest and I snuck my arm around his waist, enjoying being this close to him more than I should. I felt him lean down and press a soft kiss to my hair. He isn't shying away from touching and kissing me anymore, and I can't be happier with that.

Things were slowly falling back into their right places. I had to believe in that.

The carnival buzzed with energy as we arrived, the lights casting vibrant colors across the night sky. Booths selling snacks and trinkets lined the paths, and the cheerful sounds of laughter and game bells filled the air. Twinkling string lights crisscrossed overhead, giving the place a cozy, magical glow.

I turned to Max, my eyes bright with excitement, "Let's start with the bumping cars, please!" I exclaimed, pointing toward the flashing neon sign that marked the attraction. A child-like feeling clamored my chest, ready to jump up and down.

Max gazed at my giddy state with absolute adoration and he nodded, "Alright, let's do it, come on," He said, leading me to the ticket stand. He ordered a bunch and was about to pay but I intercepted, "No, no, you paid for dinner, this is on me," I rushed out, pulling my purse and ready to pull the money out.

Max pushed the purse back into my bag, his eyebrow raising, "I am taking you out today, so don't argue, it's my treat," he said, strictly. I was ready to whine and protest but the line of people was getting longer behind us, so I decided to stay silent for their sake. I'd plan another date in the near future and repay him back for all of this.

I couldn't suppress the smile tugging at my lips as we climbed into the small, brightly colored cars. The second the bell rang, I pressed the pedal, grinning wildly as I bumped into Max's car first, laughing at his feigned look of betrayal.

"Oh, it's on," he muttered, steering sharply to bump into me in retaliation.

The game quickly turned chaotic as other players joined in, their cars crashing into mine from every angle. I yelped, laughing through the chaos. Max's protective streak kicked in almost immediately. With a determined expression, he started targeting anyone who dared bump into me, his car hitting them with precise vengeance and steering them far away. Silly boy.

"Seriously?" I called out, laughing as I tried to dodge his attacks on my behalf.

Max nodded, giving me a wink, spinning his wheel to block an incoming car, "No one messes with my girl," he shot back, his voice warm with playful possessiveness.

By the time the game ended, my stomach hurt from laughing so much. As we climbed out of the cars, Max offered his hand to help me down, his grin never faltering. "I think we make a great team," he said.

I chuckled lowly, threading my arm through his as we walked back toward the snack stands. "That wasn't teamwork," I said, my eyebrow arching, "That was you turning into a bumper car vigilante."

He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to my temple. "Same thing," he murmured, his voice low and warm.

We lingered near the snack stands, the air thick with the warm, sugary aroma of fried dough and caramelized sweetness. My gaze darted between the brightly lit stalls, each one tempting me with its treats. It wasn't just indecision—it was a heartfelt struggle.

Max leaned down slightly, his voice soft, "What are you thinking about so hard?"

I sighed, a dreamy smile tugging at my lips as I glanced at the caramel popcorn stand, and the churros, failing to pick one, "Which one do you want?" He asked.

I bit my lip, glancing between the two once more before deciding "Churros, I guess."

Max chuckled lowly at my inner struggle, "Stay here," he said, his voice soft.

I watched as he made his way to the churro stand, but instead of stopping there, he went to the popcorn stall as well. My heart melted when he returned, holding both a bag of caramel popcorn and a piping-hot bundle of churros wrapped in parchment.

I looked at him, my chest swelling because why did he always read me so well, "You didn't have to—"

"Yes, I did," he interrupted, handing me the churros while he held the popcorn for me.

I stared up at him, my cheeks heating as he smiled down at me, and before I could think too much, I blurted, "You're kind of perfect, you know that?"

His grin widened, as cocky as ever, "I know," he said, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth, "Now eat your churros before they get cold."

I couldn't help the smile tugging at my lips as I bit into the warm, sugary goodness. We continued strolling through the carnival, the twinkling lights and laughter around us blending into the background as we snacked and watched the world pass by.

At one point, I reached over, plucking a piece of popcorn from the bag he was holding. He arched a brow at me, "Oh, stealing my popcorn now?"

I nodded, popping it into my mouth, "We're in a relationship, so what's yours is mine, remember?"

Instead of answering that, he slowed down to a stop, making me pause next to him, the playful grin on his lips softened into something deeper. Before I could ask what he was doing, he reached out, gently and quickly tugging me closer by the waist, my chest crashing into his as he claimed my mouth without any warnings.

This kiss was so sweet, and so heartwarming I felt like I could melt into a puddle on the floor. It was bold also, deliberate, and utterly consuming, his lips moving against mine like he had all the time in the world. The faint taste of sugar from the churros blended with the warmth of his mouth. His hand cradled the side of my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek as if he were savoring every second.

The carnival lights flickered behind my eyelids, and the faint hum of laughter and music seemed to fade into the background. Nothing else mattered but him—the way he tasted, the way he held me like I was his world.

He tasted my lips, savoring them to bits like they were his favorite snack ever. When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against mine, his smile grew playful again, "What's yours is mine, right?" he murmured, his voice a teasing whisper against my lips.

I blinked up at him, my cheeks blazing. My mind scrambled between being mortified that we'd just kissed like that in the middle of a carnival and marveling at how, with every kiss, he seemed to draw me deeper into him, falling further down this scary road.

"I was talking about popcorn only," I managed to mumble, and his soft chuckle vibrated against my skin.

"You're so cute," he said, dropping a quick kiss on my nose before taking my hand and tugging me forward again.

We wandered to a ring toss game, the sound of clinking rings and triumphant cheers drawing my attention. Max caught me staring at the prizes—stuffed animals of all shapes and sizes hung in a colorful row, "Wanna give it a shot?" he asked.

"You're just looking for a reason to show off, aren't you?"

He didn't deny it, handing over a ticket to the booth attendant with a confidence that bordered on infuriating. "If I win, you owe me," he teased, rolling a ring between his fingers.

"Okay, deal," I said, probably signing my soul to the devil. As he prepared to toss the first ring, I crossed my arms, "If you win me something, it better be good at least."

"No pressure at all," he mused, winking as he squared his shoulders and took aim. With an annoyingly smooth flick of his wrist, the ring sailed through the air and landed squarely on the peg. Damn him.

He picked up his prize and the attendant handed it over; a plush fox with bright, ginger-colored fur and a tail that looked comically oversized.

"A fox? Seriously?"

Max grinned, holding it out to me, "Fitting, don't you think," He said, "He's bright, gingery, clever, maybe a little feisty. Reminds me of someone I know."

I shot him a knowing glare and he gave me a wink, "He's got personality. I thought you two would get along."

I took it, the plush so big I had to wrap both arms around it. "He's adorable," I admitted, giggling. "Let me figure out what I'll name him," I pursed my lips, thinking it through, and tapping my chin in mock concentration. Max brought his hand closer and pinched my pursed lips. I swatted his hand away and gave him a knowing look, "Maxie? Max Jr.?" I said, in utter delight.

"Seriously?" He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He'll keep me company when you're not around," I said, my smile all types of teasing and happy and giddy.

Max shook his head with a smile before he wrapped his arm around my back, leading my way, "He better not steal you from me, then," He said, his voice low, the teasing laced with something warmer.

I gazed up at him as we walked, my heart taking off a sprint, my chest so full it ached; the feelings growing in my chest, my earlier nervousness, the way he's always on my mind, stealing my every thought and breath, the way I worry about him, everything, it all started to make so much sense. No, I wasn't just falling, I was already way down this rabbit hole with him. God, I was a gone case.

•────•°•❀•°•────•

"I loved everything about tonight," I said softly, the words spilling out before I could stop them. They were warm, genuine, and raw—completely unfiltered.

We stood by the doorway of my house. My fingers fidgeted with the strap of my bag, and though I knew our date was coming to an end, I wanted desperately to hold onto this moment.

Max took a deliberate step closer, his presence magnetic and overwhelming, "Me too," he murmured, his voice low and filled with something that made my pulse flutter.

He gazed at me with that look that stole my breath away before he leaned even closer, his palm falling on the door, next to my head, diminishing any distance between us, "So, your mother isn't home tonight?" He asked.

I shook my head, "No," I answered, my voice so low, "She won't be for another day."

He nodded, measuring my words and I wanted to invite him in from the very start but I needed him to suggest it first. I was too scared to ask for something and face rejection like the last time.

"And Reneé will be staying at her friend's place?" He checked.

My throat bobbed and I nodded, "Yeah."

His lips twitched, reading my thoughts ever so easily, "Good," his words were like a slow, deliberate tease, "Because if your offer still stands..." His gaze dropped to my lips, dark and full of intent, "I'd very much like to take you up on it."

My heart raced, thundering in my chest as his meaning settled in the air between us.

"Which offer?" I asked, feigning ignorance and confidence.

Max's gaze flickered from my lips to my eyes and his lips twitched, he pulled his hand from the door, and ran the back of his forefinger down my cheek, "You're not going to make this easy, aren't you," He said, knowing well what I was attempting to do.

I shrugged, tilting my chin up slightly. "I am not sure what you're talking about," I said.

His teeth pulled at his lower lip and he chuckled lowly, "You're not going to make me beg, Valerie, are you," His voice still held that dark hint that was making my stomach flip and tighten.

"Maybe," I said, the corner of my lip pulling up into a small smirk.

He tilted his head slightly, his finger stroked lightly at the corner of my mouth before he grazed my lower lip, his restraint unraveling with each passing second, "You really want me to spell it out for you?" he asked, his tone low, dark, and utterly wrecking, "Do you want me to describe, in explicit detail, every single thing I want to do to you right now?"

I could barely breathe, the weight of his words stealing the air from my lungs, "We can start by that," I managed to speak, my voice so small in the face of everything he was.

Max leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear as his voice turned raw and unapologetically hungry, "I want to taste you—every single inch of you. Your lips, your skin, everywhere. I want to hear the way you gasp and moan when I touch you in places no one else has touched before. I want to take my time with you, to learn every way your body reacts to me."

My knees felt like they were seconds away from giving out, my heart pounding so loudly I wondered if he could hear it too. Why was I playing this game when I knew very well I was not strong enough?

His hand slid to the back of my neck, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin there as he continued, "I want to feel your nails digging into my back as I bury myself deep into your warmth. To see the way your cheeks flush when I whisper all the filthy, unholy things I'm dying to do to you. And then, I want to do every single one of them until you can't think about anything or anyone but me."

When Max pulled back, his gaze burned into mine, searching, almost pleading, yet laced with restraint that trembled on the edge of breaking. His voice was low and rough, a soft murmur meant only for me. "If you're not ready for this, tell me to leave now, Valerie."

The words hung in the air, heavy and electric. My heart thundered as I shook my head, the response falling from my lips with no hesitation, "No. I don't want you to leave."

The door handle was cold under my fumbling fingers as I twisted it open, but I didn't even have time to step inside before Max closed the distance. He pushed me through the threshold with an urgency that stole my breath, the door slamming shut behind him as his mouth claimed mine. His kiss was a storm, tender and consuming, a promise wrapped in heat, leaving no question of his intentions or the depth of his need.

There was no retreat, no second-guessing. The primal hunger between us unfurled like wildfire. My arms wrapped tightly around his neck, pulling him closer, as if my very survival depended on the contact. He pressed me back, his body anchoring mine against the wall with a force that sent sparks shooting through me. His hands gripped my hips with deliberate strength, lifting me effortlessly.

"Wrap your legs around me," he commanded, his voice dark and heady.

I obeyed instantly, my legs curling around his waist as he held me as though I weighed nothing. His lips never left mine, exploring and demanding as his hands gripped me tighter, guiding me toward my room. The world around us blurred into insignificance; all I could feel was the fire in my chest and the way my body ached for him.

The bedroom door slammed shut behind us. Max lowered me carefully, my legs unwinding to find shaky footing. Only then did his lips leave mine, but only just, his breath mingling with mine as he gazed at me, his expression raw and reverent.

"These lips..." His voice was hoarse, his thumb brushing over my swollen mouth. "I will never get tired of kissing them."

"Max..." My voice came out broken, desperate, a plea that was more than words.

He kissed me again, this time harder, a bit more harsher, his tongue fighting with my own in a losing battle.

My hands found their way to his chest, exploring the hard lines of his muscles before slipping up to his shoulders and around his back. My fingers grazed the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward with a boldness that surprised even me. He pulled back, just enough to let me drag it over his head and toss it aside, the sight of him bare sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through me.

I trailed my hands over his skin, the heat of him beneath my fingertips igniting a fire that only grew as his kisses deepened. We touched almost like our bodies were so accustomed, so familiar, moving instinctively, attuned to one another in a way that felt inevitable.

Max broke away from my lips, his mouth trailing to my chin, then down the column of my neck. The scrape of his stubble against my sensitive skin sent a shiver racing down my spine as he kissed and nipped his way lower, each press of his lips stoking the growing ache inside me.

His hands skimmed down my sides, the rough pads of his fingers igniting every nerve as they reached the hem of my dress. He paused there, teasingly, his knuckles brushing against my thigh as he lifted the fabric inch by agonizing inch.

"Max..." I breathed his name, my voice trembling with need, every cell in my body screaming for more.

He smirked against my skin, his lips ghosting over my collarbone before his teeth grazed lightly against it. His hand slid higher beneath my dress, the deliberate pace of his touch making my legs weak, as though he was savoring every second, every reaction he drew from me.

Max pulled back, just enough to meet my gaze, his breath coming hard and fast, his forehead resting briefly against mine as though he was holding on to his last thread of restraint. "Valerie..." His voice was low, rough, "This is your moment to say no. If we keep going..." His jaw clenched, his eyes searching mine with a raw desperation that set my skin alight, "I won't be able to stop. I need you too much."

My chest heaved as I raised a trembling hand to his face, my fingertips brushing his jaw. His eyes softened instantly, his head tilting into my palm, and the ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. It was so slight, so heartbreakingly tender that my own lips curved in response. "I don't want you to stop," I whispered.

His eyes darkened, the adoration in them blooming into something deeper, something that felt like it could consume me whole. His hand resumed its path, sliding higher along the fabric of my dress. But he paused, his movements slow and deliberate, his gaze locking on mine, silently asking for the final confirmation. My heart swelled at the sight—this towering, commanding man holding himself back for me, putting my comfort above his own need.

I nodded, giving him the permission he sought.

His gaze didn't waver as my hands reached for the zipper at my side. The sound of it descending echoed in the quiet room, and then he took over, his fingers skimming along my shoulders as he guided the sleeves down my arms. The fabric pooled at my feet, leaving me trembling in the cool air under his intense scrutiny.

"You're so beautiful," He muttered, "God, ethereal even," He added, his chest rose and fell with a heavy exhale, and he shook his head, as though struggling to comprehend, "you can't be real," He said, taking a step closer.

He brought his hand to my back and I felt his fingers on the latch of my bra. His hands trembled against me. God, it was shocking to see him just as nervous in this as I was.

True, I had no experience in this, but he did. Yet, we were both a gone case here.

When he unlatched my bra, I don't know why my arms instinctively flew up, ready to hide myself, feeling insecure out of nowhere.

"No, don't hide yourself from me," Max said, so softly, so gently I felt like I could cry. He brought his hands up and carefully pulled my arms away, "I love every bit of you, Valerie," He said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

My heart clutched and I swallowed hard, his eyes gazing into my own as he said, shattering me completely, "I love you so much."

Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes as his voice cracked on those words. He wasn't just saying them; he was giving me his soul. And the way his eyes devoured me, with so much raw desire and affection, restored every ounce of courage I'd lost.

My insecurities melted away under the heat of his gaze. I no longer felt vulnerable or shy—I felt powerful, cherished, and wanted.

As his lips found mine again, possessive and gentle, I knew there was no coming back from this. I didn't want to. Not when his touch felt like it was rewriting every nerve in my body, branding me in ways I could never forget.

Without breaking our kiss, he walked me toward the bed until the back of my legs hit the mattress.

He pulled back, his fingers tightening around my hips, "Lay down," He ordered gruffly. I started to obey, but something bold and mischievous flickered inside me. My hands found the waistband of his pants, tugging with a confidence that surprised us both, "Take that off first," I demanded.

Max's lips twitched, liking the desperate need in my voice. He didn't argue, instead stepping back to let me work. My fingers fumbled slightly, but he waited patiently, his dark eyes never leaving mine as I pushed the fabric down his hips. The sight of him—hard, ready, and utterly unapologetic in his desire—sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through me.

"Now, on the bed," he said again, his tone firm but laced with a simmering edge that made my pulse race.

I climbed onto the mattress, soaking in the way he kept looking at me, like I was out of this world. I savored every look, every moment, every touch, and every beautiful whisper. My heart ached, but in a whole different way. My heart was happy, it was calm, and it knew it could surrender itself to this man. He'd protect it, love it, take care of it better than I ever did.

As he knelt over me, his body hovering just above mine, I felt the air crackle between us, a storm ready to break. The ache between my thighs was unbearable, my body remembering the way he'd touched me before, the way he'd unraveled me completely.

I gazed down at him once more, swallowing hard. He was so hard.

My gaze lingered back on his face, my cheeks burning as he caught me staring. His lips curved into a low, dark chuckle that sent a shiver through me. His hand reached for my face, his palm warm against my skin as he cupped my jaw with a tenderness that made my heart ache. He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine in a kiss so soft, so fleeting, it left me desperate for more.

"You're so sweet, so innocent," He murmured into my lips and he resumed kissing me.

His hands began their slow exploration, trailing over my skin like they had all the time in the world, igniting sparks with every touch.

When his hand cupped my breast, my breath hitched, my body betraying me with how eagerly it responded to him. My nipples hardened under his touch, aching shamelessly for more, and I could do nothing but surrender to the overwhelming sensations he stirred within me.

His lips stayed on mine, coaxing and consuming, while his fingers danced over the swell of my breast. He traced the curve, slow and deliberate, before circling my nipple with maddening precision. A hum of pleasure slipped from me, unbidden, and I felt his lips twitch into a satisfied smile against mine.

He broke the kiss to trail down my jaw, his lips soft but insistent as they moved to the shell of my ear, "So perfect," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin, and then he bit down gently, drawing a shiver that raced all the way to my toes.

My body writhed beneath him, my head pressing into the mattress as I arched instinctively, offering him better access. His mouth found the sensitive curve of my neck, his teeth grazing lightly, and I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair. He groaned at the pull, a sound so deep and primal it sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through me.

His lips continued their descent, slow and torturous, leaving a blazing trail down to my collarbone. When his lips finally reached the curve of my breast, I couldn't help the sharp intake of breath that escaped me.

My back arched off the bed as his tongue flicked over my nipple, the sensation so intense it stole the air from my lungs. He didn't stop. He sucked harder, the heat of his mouth making my entire body tremble. I cried out, my nails dragging across his scalp as I tried to ground myself in the overwhelming pleasure.

His hands cradled my waist, holding me steady as his mouth worked its magic. He licked, sucked, and teased, each motion more deliberate and devastating than the last, leaving me helpless beneath him.

"Max..." I couldn't breathe.

"You have the softest skin, it's maddening," he whispered, and then his lips followed the same path as his fingers. In no time, he had my panties off and I was completely bare to him.

He used his hands to spread my thighs, positioning himself between them as he continued to trail kisses down my breasts, and then my stomach. The memory of his mouth on my most sensitive spot flashed through my mind, and just that thought was enough to make my core tighten with need.

When his fingers brushed over my folds, spreading my wetness, my head fell back, and a low, unrestrained moan escaped me. He pressed a thumb against my clit, circling it with deliberate, unhurried precision, and I jerked, my voice breaking into a sharp cry that seemed to echo in the room.

"God, Valerie," he rasped, his voice rough with need, "you're dripping."

The raw hunger in his tone made me shiver, my fingers curling into the comforter as waves of pleasure rolled over me. But he wasn't done. His head dipped lower, and when his mouth replaced his fingers, I gasped. My hands flew to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as he worked me with a skill that left me utterly undone.

He sucked, licked, teased, and devoured, his mouth dragging me closer to the edge with every calculated movement. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe—every nerve in my body was consumed by him. And when he flicked his tongue just right, the world shattered around me. My hips bucked against his mouth as a cry tore from my lips, my orgasm hitting me with an intensity that left me trembling in its wake.

Max pulled back slowly, his gaze wolfish as he looked up at me. I was still catching my breath when he leaned over me, his body settling perfectly against mine. He kissed me deeply, letting me taste the remnants of my release on his lips.

His hands slid down to my thighs, positioning them around his hips as he pressed his hardened length against me. My body instinctively arched into his, desperate for more, desperate for him.

"Valerie," he murmured, his voice thick with restraint, "are you sure?"

I cupped his face, staring into his stormy eyes. "I need you, Max. Please..."

I was sure, so sure. I was confident that I could do it, I was confident...

That was all the permission Max needed. With one smooth motion, he started to push inside me, and I gasped, my body stretching to accommodate him. He froze for a moment, his forehead resting against mine, giving me time to adjust.

"You feel..." He groaned, his voice raw and strained, "so perfect."

My body trembled underneath his, in desire, pleasure, anticipation, and...fear.

He thrust slowly inside, filling me completely.

But...as soon as he was inside me, I gasped, the pleasure getting replaced with pain so insanely fast. My eyes widened as darkness fell over me, blinding me.

No. No. No. I kept screaming in my head but I couldn't find my voice. Not now. Please not now. not now.

Not now.

I felt pain only, in my chest, in my heart, all over my body and I felt my insides shatter into a million pieces, just like I did on that day.

It wasn't Max, no, it was David, it was his words, his smirks, his touches, his evil smiles, his face, his face...as he took me against my will. His face. It all crashed down on me in one devastating wave.

It was perfect, it was...I was happy. I was so happy, but now...now, I am back into the nightmare that ruined me. I felt myself going numb, my mind closing, shutting down on itself. Everywhere hurts so bad, so bad. Why...why was it hurting so bad...

I was bleeding on the inside, under the affliction of a thousand knives slicing through me.

Please. I begged. Stop. I silently begged.

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It was all going perfectly, till it wasn't anymore, sorry xD

See ya next chapter :)