Good God, I actually wanted to believe him.

“I don’t want to do this right now. You need to leave,” I said in a shaky voice. I lacked any real conviction, but I hoped the words would be enough.

They weren’t. Maxx dropped to his knees and crawled across the space between us until he was kneeling in front of me. He looked up at me and brought his hand up to my chest, placing his palm over my heart, which beat erratically.

“I feel it, Aubrey. Right there, where it matters. You want me here.” He grabbed my hand and brought it up to his chest, where I felt the frantic thud beneath my fingers. “Do you feel that? That’s where you are. That’s where you will always be. And as long as this heart beats, I will never give up on what we had. I will make you see that I can change. I can be the person you need me to be.”

I tried to pull my hand away but he held me firm, the flat of my palm pressed to his chest.

“Please, Maxx. Stop it! Stop talking to me like this! You’ve already done enough! I can’t survive you again!” I beseeched, feeling myself start to panic. If he stayed much longer, speaking to me like this, my control would slip.

He dropped his hand to my leg. “I hate myself for everything I’ve done to you. What I’ve put you through is my biggest regret. Aubrey, you were the only beautiful part of my nasty life. And to know that just by loving me, you lost so much . . . I don’t think I can deal with that.”

The anxiety in my gut twisted painfully. I felt the press of his hand on my leg and could see the wetness on his face. We were so close. Achingly so. If he kissed me now, I wasn’t sure I had the strength to resist him.

Because I wanted him to kiss me. Because as much as I was trying desperately to believe otherwise, I knew that I loved this man, as much as I ever had. It was a love without logic. It was a love without sense. It was a love that had no real place in the world I was trying to build for myself.

You can’t move on from a love like that. Even if it was destined to only bring you pain.

I stared down at his face and saw the way he was tearing himself apart. Over me. Over everything he had done. I couldn’t sit there and let him beat himself up like that, even if a part of me yelled, He deserves this!

I covered his hand with mine, squeezing lightly. “I made my choices, Maxx. I knew what I was getting into the first time we kissed. I made the decision to cross that line. I knew what was at stake by loving you. But even after everything, I can’t regret it. Not ever. I’m angry with you. So damn angry, Maxx. But I don’t regret you. Not even a little bit,” I whispered, having lost the ability to speak any louder.

Maxx dropped his forehead to my knee and wrapped his arms around my calves. “I’m so, so sorry, Aubrey.” His voice sounded broken.

I lifted my hand and let it hover for a moment over the back of his head, not sure if I should touch him. I didn’t know what to do. I was torn in half. I dropped my hand to my side and leaned back. “Maxx. Please, stop it,” I said gently, making my choice.

Maxx released me from his hold and moved backward, furiously wiping his cheeks with his hands. “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry, Aubrey. I just keep doing the wrong thing when it comes to you,” he apologized, looking embarrassed by his breakdown.

I couldn’t help it. This time I did the only thing my hurting heart would allow. Even if it was wrong and stupid.

I touched him.

I reached out and put my hand on the side of his face, reveling in the contact I had denied myself. I was disgusted that I was enjoying it, but I didn’t pull away. Maxx leaned into my palm.

“The one thing you don’t have to be sorry about is the future of my academic career. I’m dealing with it. It’s handled. It really has nothing to do with you,” I told him.

Maxx let out a chuckle. “I must sound like the worst kind of narcissist, insisting that everything in your life has to do with me.”

“For a little while, it did,” I admitted before I could stop myself.

Maxx grabbed my hand, the one cupping his face, brought it to his mouth, and tenderly kissed my palm. His lips lingered on my skin as he stared into my eyes. His kiss burned like a brand. We gazed at each other, the air sizzling and electric. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

Then he got to his feet. “But not anymore,” he said, wiping the last of the tears from his face. He pulled out his cell phone and looked at the screen. “I’ve got to get going. I have a meeting at the financial aid office,” he said, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

“Oh, okay,” I said, feeling completely off balance.

“It seems I lost most of my financial assistance for school. I have to go and figure out whether there’s any chance that I can come back next semester to finish my degree,” Maxx said on a sigh.

“I . . . I hope it works out,” I said sincerely.

“Me, too.” He turned and walked to the door and I followed him.

“I’m sorry I came here like this. I shouldn’t have done that,” he said as he opened the door.

I shook my head. “Don’t be. It’s . . . it’s fine.” I had resorted to insincere niceties, having nothing else to say.

“Thanks for not shutting the door in my face,” Maxx said, giving me a weak smile. I opened my mouth to respond but my voice failed me. And then he was gone.

chapter

sixteen

maxx

some mornings I would wake up and the first thing I’d think about, even before my eyes had a chance to open, was drugs.

What it felt like to be stoned. Where I could get them if I really wanted them. Who I had to call to score as soon as possible. How soon it would be until I was so fucking high I thought I’d never come down again.

Then I’d get up and start my day, and those brief instances of exhilaration, thinking about my long-lost love, would evaporate under the weight of my new life. And I’d start feeling depressed. These were dark times, when I thought about the person I was before I had gone into rehab and how far I was from the confident, self-assured man I had thought I was. For some odd reason I couldn’t conjure up the bad and horrible about the person I used to be.

All I could remember in those bleak moments was how I had felt on top of the world. My body craved that feeling again. The physical addiction had subsided in the weeks since I had last used. What I fought against now, every second of every day, was all in my fucking head.

It was the memory that was the danger now. Everything was a trigger. Everything reminded me of what it was like when I was high. At times, particularly when I was alone, with only my wretched self for company, it was almost impossible to ignore the cravings.

With Marco continuing to blow up my phone the temptation was tantalizingly close. So I kept myself as busy as possible. Not being in school made that hard, but I filled my hours with legal things. Because Maxx Demelo had officially turned over a new leaf.

I had gone to the meeting with Leah Fletcher, who had walked me through the process of applying for some grants for “disadvantaged students.” She had me complete new paperwork and was able to scrounge up enough government aid to cover tuition for next semester. That would be enough time, if I busted my ass, to finish my degree.

But I still needed money to live. Pay bills. Keep a roof over my head. Food in my stomach. All of those necessities that were essential in order to stay alive so I could graduate. It would be such an easy fix to call Gash and jump back into the club and my role there. The money was good, the adrenaline rush was even better.

But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

So I had entered the world of the gainfully yet miserably employed. When I wasn’t shoveling horseshit at the stables just outside of town—a job I found on Craigslist—I was burning off my skin at the local coffee shop. The whole thing really sucked.