He raises a brow. "When was your last?"
"Last night."
"You were home all night."
"Whatever."
"Are you sleeping with Max?"
"Yes. We're having foursomes—"
"With the guys from art class who double-teamed you?" He uses my old joke against me.
"Shut up."
He smiles. "I won't press."
"Thank you."
"But you can trust me with this."
He is calmer now. More reasonable.
"I promise not to freak out. As long as you're being safe. Even if you are sleeping with your professor."
Not going there. "Even if I'm doing four guys at once?"
"No matter how many people you do at once."
"Okay… Thanks, I guess."
"You're welcome."
"I'm leaving now."
"I love you. No matter what."
"I love you too. But, Simon?"
"Yes?"
"Please don't make me talk about this again."
He shakes his head no deal, but I choose to ignore it. I lock myself in my room and wait for my embarrassment to dissipate.
It doesn't, but it lessens.
After two hours, I give up and look for a different distraction.
Max.
Opal: Did you escape Liam?
Max: He walked me home.
Opal: Of course.
Max: He cares about you.
Opal: He cares about making my life difficult.
Max: Yes. But he cares too. He was trying to get a pulse on me. Deem me worthy or not worthy of his little sister.
Opal: Liam? Really?
Max: Trust me. I'm an older brother.
Opal: And a younger brother.
Max: Even so.
Opal: You really think Liam is worried about whether or not you're worthy of me?
Max: I do.
How do I phrase this? I don't want him to think I'm obsessed with my family's approval. I don't want Max to think I expect anything from him, long term.
But I want to know what Liam said.
Does he see Max as worthy?
If, somehow, this became more than a fling—
It won't—
But if I did—
Opal: What do you think? Did you pass?
Max: I'm not sure. He's hard to read.
Opal: Was he polite? Or did he make stupid jokes?
Max: Stupid jokes.
Opal: That means he likes you.
Max: He must really like me.
Opal: Take it as a compliment.
Max: You're funny with your family. Nervous.
Opal: How would you be?
Max: Simon is the brother with the beige apartment?
Opal: Formerly beige apartment.
Max: Now?
Opal: Pink everywhere. And purple. His girlfriend's favorite color.
Max: He loves her.
Opal: He does.
Max: He's protective of you.
Opal: Over-protective.
Max: Don't blame him. He can't help it.
Opal: Because he's an older brother.
Max: Because you're sweet. It's a natural instinct to protect you.
That means something, but I don't press. I hold it close.
Max: I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow.
Opal: Good night, Max.
Max: Good night, Opal.
I think about him all night, dream about him, draw him, imagine him. I barely manage class, dinner, a barre class with Izzie.
Then I'm there, in his office Friday, ready for another lesson.
Max is inspiring. As a teacher and a teacher. I'm drawing more than ever. And I'm more excited to show off my work.
Now that I have an outline for my project, I move quickly. I put the finishing touches on a project during our session. Plan the rest.
After, he bends me over his desk, pushes my jeans to my ankles, wraps his tie around my wrist, and he fucks me so hard I see stars.
All week, I'm in a daze of Max and art.
The next Friday is the same. Hours focused on my project, perfecting the work. This time, we go to his place. He strips me naked on the balcony, pushes me against the wall, fucks me right there.
The next week is the same. No, better. Hours of work. A long session in his apartment. Real bondage rope this time. He ties me to his bed, licks me until I come so many times I'm screaming, fucks me senseless.
I barely make it home.
My life is a perfect blur of school and art and Max and Izzie.
Then it's the week of our last session.
And Max asks a big question.
Max: Do you want something special this time?
I do. But the thing I really want seems more forbidden than anything.
I want a lot of dirty, illicit things from Max. But most of all?
I want him to kiss me.
A real, passionate, tender kiss on the lips.
Opal: What do you have in mind?
Max: Anything. Rougher. Softer. In public. With someone watching.
Opal: You'd agree to that?
Max: If it was what you wanted, I'd find a way.
Max Morrison, the perfect, tender, caring man… exclusively when it comes to my dirtiest desires.
Opal: I do want something.
Not the kiss; I can't ask for that.
But something else he won't want to offer—
Something I really, really want to try—
Opal: A role-play.
Max: Anything.
Opal: Student-teacher. Me as the student. You as the teacher. I want you to punish me.
He doesn't reply for a long time.
Max: Come early Friday. Wear pink.
Opal: Anything pink?
Max: Surprise me.
Chapter Nineteen
MAX
All week, my thoughts swirl.
The end of my time with Opal.
My need to protect her.
My desire to run from the pain in New York.
The fear of release—
Her.
Raul.
Grief.
It's not just the warmer weather—there are plenty of spring storms. It's not my increasing familiarity with the city, the office, the apartment.