“See you downstairs. I’ll get the coffee ready.”
He kissed me, his hilarity still on his lips, and went out of the room. I turned on my belly, hugged the pillow, sighed, and I realized I was happy.
***
"Fucking hell, she's trying to kill me," he muttered, looking at his coffee cup like it held the answer to eternal youth.
I didn't know what he was on about. Still, it didn't matter as my participation in that particular conversation wasn't needed since he went on.
"Walking down here in barely there shorts and a tank top after I ate her not even fifteen minutes ago and gave her three orgasms."
"I'm sorry?" I knew he was talking about me, but he was wrong. "First, it's the crack of dawn, I just woke up and am already ready to go back to be. I also am in a daring need of caffeine. These are my sleep clothes, and everyone knows they need to be comfy. Second, it's summer, it's hot and no matter what time of year it is, I need to cover myself while I sleep so I can wrap the sheet around me. Hence, the barely-there shorts as you called them," I indicated my body with my hand.
When he opened his mouth, I put that hand up to stop him.
“Second,” I carried on. “You're the one that put a stop at festivities going on in our bed. I would have been more than happy to carry on as you well know. Sure, it was hot, it was awesome, but may I remind you that you are also the one to give you a break. And you are the one who left me in that bed upstairs, alone.”
I stressed the last word. He again tried to speak, but again, I didn't let him.
“So, all this crap about trying to kill you is all on you," I pointed at him with my index finger.
“I see I still have a little monster Skylar on my hands, three orgasms, and it’s still not enough. Makes for an interesting future and fun of finding creative ways to tame you,” his smile turned sexy.
Then again, it always was. What he said gave me a rush, but I ignored it. Without a word, I took the mug from his hands and walked to the French doors.
There, I turned and announced, “Now, I'm going out to enjoy my coffee. There's a new deck that's kick-ass, the sun's shining and birds are chirping. I intend to enjoy all of that. It's not as hot as hell, but it is summer, and I won't need a blanket to feel comfortable. If you can swing
it, you are welcome to join me, but fair warning, at some point, I'll probably put up my feet to a railing, and my shorts will hitch up even more.”
I watched as a smile morphed into a frown than to a gulp. I turned and walked out. I did it with a satisfied smile. I was sipping my third sip and looked at the green that was all around me when the doors behind me open. Max sat without a word next to me. I put my feet up on the railing.
“Fuck,” Max muttered.
I turned to him and winked. Seeing me wink, his face got soft. Then he grabbed my chair and pulled it toward him. We drank our coffee, and I was happy.
The only thing that married my happiness was the fact I only once got a hold of Kiki. She ended the call under two minutes, saying only she was fine and she was going to call me. She was out partying. I should have guessed. Also, I had a habit of asking Max every day if there were sights of Nico or if they had any new information. They didn’t. I was getting tired of his antics. I needed him in jail so we could get on with the rest of our lives. And I needed it over fast. I only stopped asking because every time I did, before answering me, Max would grit his teeth. The good news was, Melanie had enough of hiding with her parents, and she was coming back home. I couldn’t wait to see her.
“Could we have a party?” I asked out of the blue one evening while we were lying in bed.
“Sure,” Max traced random patterns on my shoulder. I didn't think he was even aware of what I asked him.
Something had him distracted.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he dismissed my question.
He never did that.
It had to be something big.
“Tell me what happened!”
I pushed up, put my hand on his chest, and pressed down.
“I signed the last papers for my retirement at S.W.A.T today.” His voice sounded defeated.
“Are you sure you want to stop working there?” I asked cautiously.
He sure didn’t sound like he wanted to.
“It’s not that I’m regretting my decision, I just didn’t expect it to feel so,” he paused. “Final. That job left so many scars, mental ones that now that it’s over, it’s weird. It feels like my limb went missing from the moment I gave my badge to the captain.”
Red lights started flashing when he said scars. I know a lot about scars, especially mental ones, but I wasn’t sure I should ask.
Barely above a whisper, I did. “Scars?”
“It’s nothing to worry about, Bean. They’re a job hazard.”
I decided to wait for him to start talking. I knew one thing, and that was that Max shared.
I wasn’t wrong at that time, either.
“We all have scars, Skylar. And every single person thinks their scars are something hideous. But they admire the scars of others. They say that those same scars are beautiful. They say that person is stronger because of them.”
It was time that he answered me. I knew to the very center of me that losing his father was not the only scar he had.
“And what about your scars?”
“Mine? You know what mine are.”
“Not all of them,” I could see he didn't want to tell me. He was ready to turn the conversation to something else. But not this time. If he wanted to have all of me, he needed to give all of himself to me. “Tell me.”
Silence.
“Please, Max, tell me.”
He sighed, and I tensed. I was sure he would push me away and throw the covers off him. He didn’t. Instead, he pulled me closer, and when he started talking, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“It was bad, Bean. I still can't figure out the guy's motive in all of it.”
With each word, his grip tensed. Not knowing how to help, but also not wanting to interrupt him, I pressed my palm to the center of his chest, trying to give him some comfort. It was a good decision because his grip loosened a little, but he still didn't look at me.
“We were called out. It was a hostage situation. The guy had a family at gunpoint and had killed the father in law already. Unfortunately, it was something we did almost daily. You wouldn't believe what people are capable of doing for money.”
He looked at me then, almost in surprise. I gave him a small, sad smile in answer and patted his chest. We were both aware that I knew very well. In fact, it was what led me to him, to this bed.