Later in the day I had yet to meet my caffeine quota and things were getting scary. I had practically yelled at the girl sitting in front of me in statistics when she had asked for a pencil.

I knocked over a TA as he came through the door with an armful of papers. I had been charging ahead, full of piss and vinegar and with no attention to those walking around me.

By the end of the day I was a twisty mess of irritation not fit for human company.

Knowing I needed a coffee shot stat, I decided to chance a return trip to the Coffee Jerk. I hoped and prayed that Maxx’s shift would be over by now. I was relieved when I entered and didn’t see him behind the counter. I gave my order to the girl who wasn’t my ex-boyfriend and felt myself relax once I sat in a booth near the back, finally getting my coffee fix.

“Hey,” a deep voice said to my left.

The universe hates me, I thought drolly, quickly followed by a firm, Don’t look up, Aubrey!

I looked up.

Of course I did.

I was nothing if not consistent when it came to Maxx.

“Hey,” I muttered, my mouth turning down at the sight of Maxx, still in his work uniform. His blond hair was disheveled and he looked tired.

“Can I sit down?” he asked, indicating the empty seat across from me.

“It’s a free country, isn’t it?”

Maxx’s jaw stiffened as he slid into the booth opposite me. We sat in awkward silence. I would have laughed at our discomfort if I were in a laughing mood.

“How’s the coffee?” he asked, indicating my now almost-empty mug.

“Coffeelike,” I replied shortly, swallowing the last gulp of my beverage.

“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you,” Maxx said, frowning.

This time I did laugh. But it wasn’t because I found his remark particularly funny.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is my standoffishness a problem for you?” I asked, my words icy cold.

Maxx cleared his throat. “That’s not what I meant,” he said softly.

“Well, you can’t expect anything from me, Maxx. You just can’t,” I told him truthfully.

I thought about Renee and Devon in the alleyway outside of our building and felt frigid inside. I looked at the man responsible for my own heartache and felt a hardening inside.

“I know that you think you have to stay away from me because I hurt you. I know you’re trying to build a life without me. But I also know that the only life worth living is the one we can have together.”

He slowly reached across the table and took my hand between his palms and held it.

“I know what you look like when you love. And it’s right here. In your eyes. On your mouth. I look at you and know, without a doubt, that you feel the same way I do.” Maxx ran his thumb along my bottom lip, and I jerked back.

I felt my face flush and pulled my hand from his restraining grasp.

“I’ve got to go,” I muttered, getting to my feet.

“Will you come in tomorrow? I’m working. I can buy you a coffee. I know how much you need your caffeine in the morning,” Maxx said, sounding a little desperate.

I pulled my book bag up onto my shoulder. I wouldn’t look at him.

It would be too easy to give in. I should start avoiding this place. I should ignore him and leave before I did something stupid. So what do I do? I give him the answer that I know I shouldn’t. I found myself saying, “I come in every morning, Maxx. So I guess I’ll see you then.”

I’m not caving, I told myself. I’m just telling him the truth. I do come in for coffee every morning. It didn’t mean anything.

Maxx’s smile was as bright as if I had offered him the moon.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you then.”

It didn’t mean anything! I yelled to myself over and over again.

What a lie. With Maxx, it meant everything.

chapter

eighteen

maxx

lately, talking to Aubrey felt a lot like banging my head against the wall. I was getting nowhere . . . fast. Didn’t she see how much I was attempting to change?

I tried not to get frustrated, because I saw in her eyes how much she still loved me. But being kept at arm’s length was maddening when the connection between us was still as intense as ever.

I hated working at the coffee shop. The pay sucked and the hours were even worse.

Working at the stables was a little better. Sure, shoveling shit for ten dollars an hour wasn’t the best use of my time, but I got to be outdoors and no one really bothered me. I put my feelings aside because working my ass off was for a greater purpose. These were all steps in proving myself.

“You’re a hard worker, Maxx. I have to say that I’m impressed,” Mr. Wyatt said, watching me as I cleaned out one of the stalls.

I had gone straight from my shift at the coffee shop to the stables. I didn’t have time to change, so I was still wearing the brown T-shirt from earlier. I would have had time to run home and put on different clothes if I hadn’t stayed to talk to Aubrey.

Well, I had stayed only to be rejected by Aubrey. Again.

It was becoming a sad, pathetic pattern. “Thanks,” I grunted, lifting a shovel full of hay and manure and dumping it in a wheelbarrow. Mr. Wyatt patted a pretty gray horse named Harvey and inclined his head toward me. “Have you ever ridden a horse?” he asked.

“Sure,” I lied. I had never been on a horse in my life.

“Well, if you ever want to ride one of our beauties, come on out. You’re always welcome,” he said with a final pat on Harvey’s neck. Mr. Wyatt was a gruff fellow but he seemed decent. I knew that the offer wasn’t made lightly.

“Thanks, Mr. Wyatt. Maybe I will,” I said, wiping sweat off my forehead, knowing I left a smear of dirt behind.

“These guys could use the exercise. You’d be helping me out,” Mr. Wyatt continued, seeming embarrassed by his kindness.

“Of course,” I agreed, not letting on to the fact that I knew the old guy actually liked me. Mr. Wyatt reached into his pocket and pulled out some cash. “Here’s your first week’s pay. I don’t do checks.”

I took the money. “Thanks,” I said genuinely.

Mr. Wyatt nodded and left. I quickly counted the money and felt my stomach drop. It was only $250. I couldn’t pay bills and buy food with this meager amount. I was working my ass off and barely surviving. I left work feeling completely disheartened.

I walked into my apartment twenty minutes later and flipped the light switch, relieved when the lights turned on. I wasn’t sure how long I’d get by without paying my electricity bill before they cut my power. I collapsed onto the couch and let out a long, agonized breath. I needed to do something. I had to find a way to make some money.

There’s one place I could go for some quick scratch, my subconscious teased.

It was tempting. I missed the club. I missed the dark world where I was king. I missed the adrenaline rush of doing something I knew was wrong and getting away with it.

God, I missed the drugs.

I’ll always be here, waiting for you, my addiction whispered seductively in my head. My hands began to shake and something that felt dangerously like physical withdrawal racked my body. My heart started to pound and sweat dribbled down my back. I felt sick and dizzy. The need to use was overwhelming.

Get it together! I screamed silently to myself.

I needed to lose myself in something safe. I got up and rushed back to my bedroom and threw open my closet door. I dug around inside with my heart slamming angrily in my chest.

Get a grip, Maxx!

I finally found my sketch pad and a box of charcoal. I sat down cross-legged on the floor. The lighting was shit, but I didn’t need to see. I needed to feel.

My fingers moved almost mechanically at first, but then the fluidity of drawing took over. My breathing began to slow. My heart calmed down. The sweat dried on my skin. Minutes turned into an hour, my fingers never stopping.