Roswell Fanatics

A/N - I'm soo sorry! I forgot to post last night, and what a long night it was! I hope you can forgive me

I think we've all established how evil I was to leave it hanging...but what else is going to keep you coming back for more?!

I want to welcome the new readers *WAVES* and to all the other readers, and lurkers...I hope you enjoy and THANK YOU!!

Evee ...I had NO idea what you were talking about (that's how long I haven't been on the board) thanks sweetie and a big congrats to Liz

P.S. To those of you who have read "Remember When" either on here or on RC, I thank you for giving it a chance and for trusting me with your dreamer hearts to not let you down in the end

*hugs*

Tanya


Chapter Ten

<center>Better Than Me</center>


The entire room has grown silent, now that realization has set in. Maria has already made her way inside, but still I stand, glued to the threshold. Afraid to pass and afraid of what her reaction might be.

I am not left waiting, when a moment later she reaches up and slams the door in my face.

I lift my hand to the doorknob, knowing she didn’t lock it, and swing it open. “I’m sorry.”

“Not, good enough, Max. While I know I don’t hold any leverage with you, I don’t think being ignored for weeks is okay to do to someone you call a friend.”

“I know,” I say stepping further inside and closing the door. Thankfully, Maria has made herself scarce.

“What’s your excuse?” She crosses her arms over her chest and takes a seat at the edge of her couch.

Trying not to make eye contact, I move closer to her. “It’s not an excuse. There have been things going on in the last few weeks, and I didn’t know how to talk to you about them.”

“But you’re here now, to tell me?” she asks, taking in a deep breath. She’s calm now, and I know I can approach her. She stands and offers me a quick hug before telling me she’s in the middle of cooking and I had better make it quick.

“You still seeing, Greg?”

“Yes. In fact, he’ll be here in about an hour. So really, Max you better get talking.”

My timing couldn’t be any worse. “Maybe I should come back at a better time.”

“Hell no, you will sit down right there and talk to me. What’s going on Max?” she asks, so concerned for me, still. I sigh with deep regret having to come her, but she deserves to hear this from me.

“What is it?” she moves around the counter, removes her black and white checkered apron and places her hand on my shoulder. I quickly make a grab for it, and look up at her.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, without hurting you.” I shake my head and she slumps into the stool beside me. I look up at her, seeing her auburn hair in a perfect ponytail. It’s weird to me that I can look at her, and not feel all those old feelings for her.

“Serena, I’m going to be a father.” Much to my surprise, she pulls me into a hug and kisses my cheek, congratulating me.

“Max, that is great news! Why wouldn’t you share that with me? And pray tell, who is this mystery girl you’ve fallen for, that I don’t know about?” She stands up, returns to her position behind the counter, picking up a spoon to stir whatever she has cooking on the stove.

“Her name is Liz. I just met her and…” I hear the spoon clank against the marble countertop before I look up.

“What do you mean? Max, you’re smarter than to have unprotected…”

“I didn’t sleep with her.” I pin her down with a serious stare, as she tries to make sense of what I’m saying.

“Serena, maybe we should talk about this another time.”

“No. We will talk about this right now. You’re not making any sense.”

“I know I’m not. I’m just starting to understand things myself. I didn’t sleep with Liz, and she’s pregnant with my baby because—,” I break off and stand to face her. She’s already standing in front of me now, searching for answers.

“What?” she asks, softly.

I don’t know how the hell to tell her this. I really don’t. I wish for some reprieve at the moment, for Maria to come bursting in the room; but she doesn’t.

Running a shaky hand through my hair, I look at my ex-wife and try to explain the situation as best as possible. With only the details she really needs to know, and trust me they’re bad enough.

After I finish, she stumbles back and slumps back against the counter. “So, what you’re saying is…I was pregnant with this man Danny’s baby? Not yours, right?” I simply nod. I know it’s not something Liz has thought about, but I have, mainly because of Serena and my situation while we were married.

“Sere,” I start but she shakes her head and walks out of the kitchen. I stand in the kitchen, and a moment later Maria walks in. Maria is a professional eavesdropper.

“Max, this is unreal.” Maria says, offering me a hug and then quickly makes her way out of the room to comfort her sister.

I feel lost right now. I don’t know what to say to Serena who has been there for me on more occasions than I care to recall. I have tried to do my best by her, before, during and after we got divorced. My parents loved her, how could anyone not? The only problem was she wasn’t the one, not for me.

I promised her when we got divorced that she would not be left with nothing. Our divorce was amicable. We split things evenly, fairly. And when it came time, because in all honesty without her I wouldn’t have made it through the start up years of my business without her support, I offered her a nice settlement. One the courts, and my lawyer said she didn’t have any entitlement to, since she signed a prenuptial agreement (that was my father’s idea, not mine. Serena wanted to make sure that I knew why she was marrying me). I couldn’t walk away, so I gave her enough so she could do whatever she wanted to do with her life.

Serena fought me tooth and nail, she didn’t want the money, but in the end I told her to let me do it, (after she argued it was too much and I finally agreed to reduce the amount by half). It was after all the only thing I could give her, besides a friendship, if she wanted it. My fortunate luck, she did.

After searching the fridge for something to drink, I place my half-empty glass of juice in the sink and venture into the living room.

Maria is holding Serena, who isn’t crying, thankfully. I don’t know if I could handle that right now. I feel like I let her down in some way.

“Sere, I don’t know what to say, except I’m sorry,” I offer and watch as she slips out of Maria’s hold to gaze up at me.

“Why? You’re going to be a father, Max. Regardless of how it came to be, that’s a wonderful thing.” I can see the sadness in her eyes. Serena has been dating Greg for over a year, and while he understands that she may never have a child of her own, he was willing to stick with her. Not many men in his position would. However, it would only take an intelligent man ten minutes to figure out how great Serena truly is.

Great for someone who isn’t me.

“I know it’s so great. But things are so complicated right now, I’m not sure which way is up.”

“Why? What’s wrong? Do you not like, Liz, that is her name right?” She stands straighter, all emotion, except concern for me, washed from her features.

“That’s her name. You don’t need this right now. I’ll come back, tomorrow or something,” I say, trying to make a hasty retreat. Mainly because after telling Serena about the baby, I can’t lay my other problems at her feet.

“Maxwell Phillip Evans, stop right there!” Serena says coming to stand directly behind me.

“Serena, please.” I turn to her, pleadingly.

“No. I’m not going to go easy on you. And yes, while it sucks that I was pregnant with someone else’s baby, I still lost it Max. It just wasn’t meant to be, and I’m okay with that. Greg doesn’t care. He loves me just the way I am.” She says with certainty, but I can’t help but pull her into my arms.

I murmur my apologies, my insecurities of telling her, and how damn happy I am for her. I pull away and swipe her tears, cradle her face in my hands, the way I’ve done a thousand times.

“What?” she asks, puffing out a sob. Fighting for control.

“If Greg doesn’t treat you right, I swear to God I will hurt him. But mostly, I only want you to be happy and staying away wasn’t the right answer.”

“No, it wasn’t. But I understand. You want to protect me, Max. And you don’t have to worry, because Greg would never…” I silence her with a kiss against her cheek.

“I’m sure. But just know I’m here for you either way. Your happiness means so much to me. I know I couldn’t give you want you needed, what you deserved,” I strive for the right words, for what I want to say.

“It’s okay. I think we are where we’re supposed to be, don’t you?” She asks pulling away, and noticing for the first time that Maria has left the room, again.

“Maria still knows when to vacate the room, you taught her well,” I jest. “I don’t know where I am right now Sere. All my feelings are confused. I mean I’m so happy about the baby, but how can I form any kind of real feelings about Liz, friendship or otherwise, when I still can’t find my place in all of this.”

“So, that’s the problem isn’t it?” she says suspiciously, my eyes lock on hers in question.

“Come on, Max. You’re a control freak.”

“I am not!” I defend, weakly, cause damn it I know I am.

“We won’t argue a moot point, there. So tell me do you at least like her?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me about her.”

“What do you want to know?” I ask, because honestly, I feel slightly uncomfortable still. Liz is pregnant with my child; Serena is my ex-wife who couldn’t carry a child, mine or any other man’s. I’m not sure if this is at all proper.

Then again, I am still one of the few that still talks to his ex-wife, so maybe that means something.

“I want to know everything, but more importantly I want you to be honest with me.”

I walk past her, and plop down on her couch. I lean my head back and stare at her ceiling fan, spinning and spinning, that’s exactly how I feel. I haven’t been on solid ground in what seems like forever.

“Liz is so different than anyone I’ve ever met. There is still so much I don’t know about her, but I want to. I don’t know how to act around her sometimes, but then she does something and I feel completely comfortable. She has had a hard life, really hard, but she still smiles about the small things. She was married, from what she’s mentioned, for about two months, then her husband died…” I continue to drone on and on about Liz, about what I know, and what I don’t.

Before I realize it, the doorbell is ringing. I break from my thoughts, as I watch Maria escort Greg out of the room and into the kitchen.

“I should go.” I begin to stand and Serena reaches for my hand.

“We’re not done, Max.”

“For today we are. I want you to have a good night, and I promise you I’ll stop by in a few days.”

She narrows her eyes in suspicion, but accepts defeat. “If you don’t, I will get Maria on your ass,” she threatens with a wink and a half smile. I lean back down and give her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Tell Maria, to call me anyway. See if she wants to have lunch with me tomorrow.”

“What time, Max?” comes Maria’s voice from behind us. I look at Serena and we both shake our heads.

“How about a late one, two o’clock?” I say, looking at her, peeking her head out the kitchen door. I really do miss her, and Michael would kick my ass if he knew I went to lunch with Maria at least once a month or so. Serena and I don’t do that, it’s just too awkward for us, we tried it once, it felt like a date but so terribly uncomfortable. So we just visit each other, but that’s it, she’s my best female friend.

“Sounds great! I’ll call you.” Then she pops her head back in the kitchen with poor Greg.

“Tell Greg, I said hi and sorry for making him wait.”

“I will.” She stands and straightens her already straight shirt, and walks me to the door.

“Max,” she calls out once I reach the hallway.

“Yeah?” I turn back to her.

“For what it’s worth. I think she’s really lucky to have you.” I don’t comment, I just offer her a nod and a half smile before making my way to the elevator.

That turned out better than expected. But until I figure this thing out with Liz, my life isn’t going to be any less complicated than it has been.


<center>****</center>


It’s half past midnight and I’m just falling asleep, when the sound of my blackberry vibrating against my wooden dresser wakes me. I pad across the room, blindly grab it and drag my tired ass back to bed.

I rub my eyes as I settle against my pillows. Lifting it up to read I see I have two messages. When the hell did the first one come, I wonder.

They are both from Liz, one from earlier, when I was still with Serena and another just now.

Max, are you there?

Are you mad at me for something? You didn’t call. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Night.

Well hell! I completely forgot to call Liz. I feel like shit now, we always talk before bed and I just came home, ate a quick sandwich, took a shower and went to bed.

I quickly reach over to the bedside phone and dial her number. She doesn’t answer until the very last ring.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“That’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

She sighs. “Max, you’re a busy guy. I understand. You need your sleep.”

“So do you. But that’s not the point. I should have called you. I just had a rough day.”

“What’s wrong?” I lean down, pull the covers over my body and smile. I should have called her, if for no other reason than the fact that I love hearing her voice.

“I went to see my ex-wife tonight.”

“Oh.” Was her only response.

“It’s not what you think. I still talk to her, besides her younger sister is Michael’s ex-girlfriend. I had to tell her about the baby, Liz.”

“Our baby?” Just as I figured, she hasn’t put it together. She doesn’t realize that in her being pregnant with my baby, that my ex-wife was pregnant with Danny’s. I can’t break it to her over the phone.

“Is your window unlocked?” I ask, already extracting myself from the bed and searching for my discarded jeans.

“What? No, it’s locked, why?”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” I say, cradling the phone between my cheek and my shoulder, as I pull up my jeans.

“Max, it’s after midnight.”

“I know that. Fifteen minutes, don’t leave me out in the cold.”

“Max, it’s the middle of the summer,” she retorts with a small laugh.

“Yeah, well. That’s not the point. Fifteen Liz.” I say and hang up promptly, before she asks me any more questions.

I know that she’s not going to take this latest information lightly, and I won’t leave her to do it alone. Luckily, I don’t have to be at work until ten tomorrow, because it’s going to be a long night.

TBC…

A/N - So we've got some mixed feelings on Serena; to be expected. Do we really know anything about her, to trust her? Probably not, but I think we know Max a bit more to know if secretly he's been harboring feelings for his ex. In previous chapters he's covered that ground work and his character speaks of the kind of person he is...so I'm gathering it's Serena you're not sure of...well there's nothing I can say to that, but maybe she'll grow on you

Before I'm rambling you guys into blurry vision, I wanted to say that getting this story told, with all of the characters incorporated has been a challenge for me, probably the toughest one I've put myself up against thus far. And if you're not sure about what I mean...*lol* Then let's just say, having Max figure out how a team of women, best friends, and a brother, FEEL, and having you guys understand what THEY are feeling through HIS eyes, let's just say, its not a walk in the park - the layers are revealed a little at a time. But I thank you for "tuning" in each week and allowing me this indulgence.

Tanya

FSU/MSW-94 - My "Guru" I'm going to say if you weren't in my corner keeping me going, even when I hit the wall, I'm not sure how often this story would get updated. Thank you for always sitting with me, letting me ramble and telling me when things just aren't making sense *lol* Love ya! (P.S. I'm running to blockbuster for a little TV catching up viewing sessions)

Alien_Friend - I'm happy you liked M/S thing going on...and Maria, well she's a special character for me to write in this one. Something different and I think something more true. The challenge, as with every part of this story...telling it from Max's POV. Talk about a writing challenge...I've had to get creative in some of the future chapters. Hope you enjoy! Thank you!

Bixie - I know surprise, it's Serena and Max! But again, there is more story to tell...so work with me *lol* Ahh...I wonder who was gonna ask first after meeting up with Maria. Their story, is yet to be told, but I would say next week has some offerings in there for you to read Thank you! *MUAH*

Tamashii - Yes, from Max's POV Serena took it pretty well...and she is happy...more about her later, right? I'm happy you like Maria, there's more of her to go around...later. Thank you!

guelbebek - Hmm...worry for Liz. Yes, that's a good idea, but well let's just see what this has to offer. We don't really know too much about Liz, she's a work in progress Thank you!

Mariael311 - I am back, baby!! Oh...if you see Jules...tell her to keep her eyes out for a story I told her I'd write about a year ago...coming this Christmas to a fan fiction board near her...she knows the name and I'm sure she remembers my promise. *MUAH*

clueless - Well, thank you for reading...enjoy! Thanks!

oldgirl58 - Hi! If you missed my note, I'll just repeat myself *lol* Ask anyone that has ever read any story I've started and posted on this board--I always finish my stories (all 19 of them *lol*) Hope that keeps you warm and fuzzy...Thank you for reading!! Hope you stick around to the end

carolina_moon - You know what? They aren't long enough are they? I'm going to make an effort to see what I can do about that...after chapter 15 *lol*

aussietrueblue - Hmm...were you wrong or right in your statement...Thanks!

begonia9508 - Well Max was successful in his divorce, but not in his marriage obviously *lol* I guess that's the problem, no? Thanks!!

Natalie36 - Next part coming up! Enjoy and thank you!

ShatteredDreamer - Nah, it's just you! *lol* Seriously though, again we don't know much about Serena. This is our first meeting with her, there's a lot to speculate on, only time will tell at this point. As far as Max, well I'm not so sure it's out of character to kiss her... However, I can tell you Liz's reaction isn't all found in this part... but I'm sure you didn't expect me to put it that way either Michael and Maria, you'll get some info next part. Thank you!

LegalAlien - You are very insightful there...has it all sinked in? Or was that what Max was able to tell? Very good...looking forward to what you have for me next! Thank you!

roswell3053 - Hmm...I wonder how Liz will react? And how much she's showing Max?...Thank you!

Aurorabee - Aww thank you!! Makes me smile, I'm glad you're enjoying the relationships starting and growing. More to come! Thanks!

Drogyn - I love how you point on something no one else did. How is Michael going to feel when he finds out his brother and his ex, meet up? Very good... Thanks!

mezz - Hi! I must point this out...you caught it dead on,

As for Max's touchy/kissy with Serena, I don't see a problem. He's a hands on guy. He's always touching Liz, even from the first time they met. Different people function on different levels of touch.

As far as when I update...once a week, Friday or Saturday. Thank you!

Leigh - I'm not so sure about your statement, although it's warranted, I think there are those few rare occasions. We have to remember how old Max and Serena were when they got married, and how long they actually were "together"...a story still yet to be told. And lucky for Serena, there wasn't a messy divorce, Max was well on his way to being rich before they married...and that prenup was air tight (if Phillip Evans had anything to say about it *lol) ...but again you raise another point. Only time will tell. Thank you!

IheartMax - Thanks!! Enjoy!

LairaBehr4 - Aww...you're so cute! Thanks sweetie!

IzzyEvans2201_PuertoRico - Mama, I missed your crazy ass! Next time I'll have to give you the heads up...otherwise you'll be blowing in the wind...enjoy!!

Finally...lurkers - I hope you enjoy



Chapter Eleven


<center>Goodbye…
For now</center>


I pulled up to Liz’s place, and as quietly as possible I walked around the back to where her window is. Thankfully she left her light on, but where the hell is she?

Her bed is empty, the covers drawn back but as I peer inside I still don’t see her. I try for the window; it’s unlocked, good. I lift it up and somehow crawl inside and close it behind me. I realize in this moment, I’m not seventeen anymore, because crawling through girls’ windows is well beyond my time.

Case in point: I manage to knock down everything except the lamp on her small nightstand (smooth Evans). I bend down to retrieve the fallen items, and notice a letter among the items I have to put back.

Flipping it over in my hands, I freeze in place. It’s the letter, the letter that Liz felt the need to not tell me about. The one from her husband. My heart begins to thump wildly in my chest, and I break out in a fierce sweat. I lick my dry lips and finger the piece of paper, turning it in my hands. It’s open; I could just peek at it, just one little look.

I quickly pick up the rest of the items, and stand, the letter still in my hand. I take a seat at the edge of Liz’s bed. This has answers, but to what?

Things that I don’t even know I want any part in? Because while I told Liz I would always be there for her, that was the truth, I just don’t know in what capacity I’m able to offer. What capacity I want to offer. Nor do I know what she wants or even expects from me.

Pushing my fingers through my disheveled bed hair, I look over my shoulder to be sure I’m still alone and then down at the letter.

It starts off with the usual, Dear Liz.

I don’t know why I find that odd but I do. If I’d ever written a letter to Serena while we were married, which I didn’t, I would have started it off with my nickname for her, or something. ‘Dear Liz’ seems pretty damn detached. Then again, maybe that’s all the female influence in my life kicking in.

Shrugging off the thought, I look down at the letter again, and realize how wrong this is. I was unwilling to read Liz’s file and I’m even more reluctant to read this letter. Even though she felt the need to share it with Dean.

I sneer at the thought of him.

It’s better if I wait for her to trust me enough to tell me. Folding the letter, I place it back on the table and stand to pace wondering where the hell she is.

A second later she opens her bedroom door and the air in my lungs gets sucked right out of me. Does she have to prance around with that on? Jeez, you’d think she was trying to give me heart failure. No one should wear a tiny little see-through pink nightgown that only comes mid-thigh! Not unless you’re expecting to get lucky. And with the way my body is responding, she could get very lucky with little effort.

Trying to shake the lurid thoughts from my head, I reach out to help her with the tray of food she’s holding.

“Sorry, it took me so long. I was hungry, but Alex forgot to buy the sliced pickles I like so I had to cut them.” I look down at the tray and I feel my stomach roll.

“Damn, that looks awful!” I hiss out and place the tray at the end of the bed.

“Thanks.” She smiles as she reaches out for a cracker, slathered in peanut butter with a pickle slice on top. I think that might be the nastiest thing I’ve ever seen anyone eat. And that’s saying a lot with Michael as a brother.

“Sorry,” I apologize and slink down on the bed beside her.

“I brought you something too.” She uncovers a small dish that was covered in a paper towel and I see pepperoni and provolone.

“Damn, now that looks good.” I reach out and dig in.

“I didn’t know what you wanted to drink so I brought us waters.” I thank her and for a few minutes we eat in silence.

“Liz, do you always eat things like this?” She shrugs and moves the tray, now that we’ve plowed through it.

“Only sometimes at night, I get these weird cravings. But so far this is the only thing I’ve wanted pretty often.”

I try not to make a disgusted face, and change the subject. “I wanted to talk to you about tonight with Serena.”

Liz visibly tenses up, I’m not sure why, but I reach out and pull her back against the bed, so that both our backs are resting against her headboard.

I reach out and grab her hand, rest it in my own and cover it with my other hand. “I had to talk to Serena because we’re friends and because she needed to know the truth about the baby she was carrying.”

“Your baby? I mean when you were married?” I can’t even look at Liz right now. I can’t. She hasn’t put it together yet. Without realizing it, I lift her hand to my lips and kiss it gently. Stroking it soothingly, trying to prepare her for it.

“Liz, you have to know that the baby that Serena was carrying, wasn’t mine.” Her brows knit in confusion.

“It was supposed to be the one you were carrying.” Her breathing stills and her hand slips from mine. I continue to ramble on, because I don’t know what else to say.

“I’m sure you didn’t think about it, but I did and the records my father’s office subpoenaed confirmed it. It makes sense.”

“I’m so sorry, Max.”

“For what? It’s not your fault Liz.”

“She was your wife and you thought she…she thought she…you…” She swallows thickly and scoots off the bed. Liz crosses the room, and leans against her dresser.

I suck in a breath of air, again seeing her in that outfit (if I can call it that), unfurls something inside of me.

“She was okay with it, Liz.” It’s a small lie, but I don’t think Liz needs to stress over that as well. “What Serena and I had is over; it was over long before the paperwork was even drawn up. We’re okay with that. She’s fine and accepts the fact that her and I, baby or no, weren’t meant to be.”

Liz shakes her head and mumbles out, “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t have begged him…” she breaks off and looks at me apologetically with tears in her eyes. I jump off the bed and pull her into my arms, tunneling my hand through her hair.

“No, Liz it’s not. I didn’t tell you so that you could blame yourself. This was out of your control, out of anyone’s control. I just wanted you to know that Serena knows the truth, so that when you meet her—” I don’t get to finish my statement because Liz pulls out of my embrace.

“You want me to meet her? Why? I know you said that she was okay with things but still Max. It has got to hurt.”

“Remember when I told you about our relationship? Our marriage?” She nods, and moves to take a seat on the bed again. The flimsy nightgown rides up even further and I have to swallow back the lust rushing forward in order to think straight. What was I saying?

“Max?”

“Right, sorry. Serena has been dating this man for over a year now, he loves her. Really loves her and he’s a good guy. I know it must hurt her, but I’m thankful she has her sister and Greg to help her through it. Dealing with the loss of another child with her isn’t something that’s in my place to do, anymore.”

“You sure?” She looks pretty damn skeptical.

“Liz, what did I tell you about lying and me?”

“That you don’t. That you’d never lie to me to spare my feelings.”

“Do you believe me now?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, I don’t want you thinking about this anymore, but—” Damn if I’m not an ass.

“What?”

“What did you mean about you asking Danny?” Liz rolls her eyes and throws herself back against the mattress.

I must turn around!

I should.

I really shouldn’t be looking at her tiny matching panties. I need to close my eyes. It’s just wrong…


Damn it all to hell I can’t.

“Liz?”

“Yeah,” she says with a sigh.

“If you don’t want me kissing you again, I would suggest you put some clothes on, now.”

“Oh! I’m…” she quickly wraps the comforter around her lower half and sits up, blushing profusely.

I don’t speak, I don’t move, because at this very moment she looks so damn sweet, and innocent and I could just lie down beside her and make love to her. I could make her mine for tonight. I would love that but that would be a bad move on my part.

“Danny didn’t want any children with me,” she confesses, gauging my reaction closely, but I don’t even blink.

“He said that I was too young to be with someone like him. Especially in his profession, and that eventually I’d get tired of him and want someone more my age.” Liz shrugs her shoulders and the strap of that damn nightgown slips down her shoulder, offering me a glimpse of the creamy flesh. God, what is wrong with me? She’s sitting here confessing personal things about herself and I just want her naked and underneath me (I really need to get laid, and soon before I start attacking Liz).

Gripping the dresser behind me, I finally find my voice (I was paying attention even while undressing her with my eyes. Like I said I can pay attention to more than one thing at a time – sometimes).

“I think that was the best thing he could have done for you, Liz. Did you really want to be tied down with kids and no husband?”

“That’s funny, Max. Because I’m pregnant and I still don’t have a husband,” she retorts sarcastically. I can understand, but personally to me our situation is much more different that than of her previous.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. What I mean is, he was what? Forty-nine years old? Liz, men that old shouldn’t have children, unless their name is Hugh Hefner or some shit. He wouldn’t even have been around to see his children grow up and play with them or maybe even have children of their own,” I say, not really thinking because to be honest that fact that Liz even slept with a man that was that much older than her, makes me sick to my stomach. In a way, it seems like he took advantage of her, but knowing what I do know of Liz, I’m not so sure that was the case.

Personally, I think Danny was filling a void inside of her, but he was and would only be a temporary fix to the problem.

“You don’t know that, Max. You don’t know anything about my relationship with Danny! You have no right to say anything about it either!” she hisses and pulls the covers from her body, stomps across the room to stand in front of me and pins me down with a fiery glare.

“Why didn’t you want to have a baby before he died, Liz? Just answer me that and if your answer is not what I’m expecting I’ll never ask you another question about him.” I can’t stop the words; they’re out before I have a chance to think, but I wouldn’t take them back.

“How dare you! Get out, Max. Just…get out!”

“Fine. I didn’t come here to fight with you.” I really didn’t and I feel awful about it, but I can’t take her not telling me things.

“Maybe you can call Dean and talk things over with him,” I say dryly, knowing I’m just pushing her buttons. I lift open the window, and pause at the sound of her voice.

“What is your problem with him?” I turn to regard her.

“My problem with Dean, is that he’s always all over you.”

“No he’s not!”

I tilt my head to the side to regard her, “Not like that. What I mean is you’re always running to him, telling him things, sharing every single thing.” I sound like a damn woman.

“He’s my best friend, Max. That’s what best friends do,” she retorts and I notice the tension in her shoulders lessen.

“I really didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Yeah, you did.” She offers me a small smile.

“Liz, I don’t want to fight with you. I want you to be stress free, but it seems like that’s all I seem to be doing, doesn’t it? Stressing you out?” I say, watching as she nods her head slightly.

I drag a hand over my face. I know what I have to do, and there is no better timing. “I think maybe for a little while, I shouldn’t come around. If you need me for anything, doctor’s appointments or if you’re not feeling good, I want you to call me. I’ll still call you from time to time, but for now all I want is for you and the baby to be healthy Liz. And you and me, doing this dance, isn’t.” I point between us, and try and muster up a smile of confidence, when I feel anything but.

“Max—”

“It’s okay, Liz. I’ll still be here, even if you call me at three in the morning, I’ll come to your window without question. Even if you don’t want to talk, even if you just don’t want to be alone.” A tear slips down the corner of her eye and I move towards her to wipe it away.

“Don’t cry. You’re too pretty to cry. I want you to just relax and don’t worry about things so much.”

“When,” she drags in a deep breath. “When will you come back?” I smile at her.

“Does that mean you’ll miss me?”

“A little, maybe.” I lean in and place a kiss on her forehead.

“I have a business trip in two weeks, and I’ll be out of town for about three days. I’ll stop by when I get back. How’s that sound?”

“Good.”

“I’m glad. Goodnight, Liz.”

I walk back to the window and I hear her move closer, but it’s better this way. If she asks me to stay I won’t be able to deny her.

When I’m finally outside, she comes to the window and looks down at me. “Goodnight, Max.” The sadness in her eyes sparks something deep inside of me. Maybe it’s because I want her to truly miss me. Maybe that will help me figure things out. I need time away.

It’s better this way, I tell myself, but why doesn’t that make me feel any better?


TBC…

See ya next week

A/N - Hey guys, I would have been here sooner, but let's just say that my right hand had an altercation with my left hand and a pair of scissors; so I only have use of one hand right now, typing this is a challenge.

Since this is a post and go...I'll say, comments will follow and thank you so much for the feedback, I truly love seeing you guys try and piece this together.

FYI: After Ch 15 the parts will be longer; as per popular demand *lol*

Tanya



Chapter Twelve


<center>Spies Like Us</center>


I have been reduced to being a stalker, in my own damn office. The things I let myself get into, and Isabel is of no help.

“What do you think they are talking about in there?” she says, whispering for some unfathomable reason. As if Michael could hear us all the way down the hall, inside his office and behind a closed door.

Yet, as I go to respond, I take heed and whisper back my response. “I don’t know. Michael didn’t tell me, but I would think it has to do with that vacancy we have in design.” I shrug my shoulders and ponder how long I’ve been kneeling down on the carpeted floor of my office, with my sister beside me, as we peek through the blinds.

“This is crazy, Isabel. Besides, what do you care?”

“I don’t,” she answers quickly and stands. I follow her movements and brush off my pants, wondering why she’s so tense all of a sudden.

Not more than fifteen minutes ago did she knock on my office door and ask me why Alex was in the building. Furthermore, she wanted to know why he was meeting with Michael. I didn’t know the answer then, and I still don’t. But why does she care?

“Why were you kneeling down beside me? Why do you care?” She pins me with a hard glare, causing me to shrink back to my desk, because while Isabel does not intimidate me, her knowing about my personal life rattles me for some reason.

Maybe I feel like this because I’m her older brother, and talking to her about women just feels wrong. Besides that fact, anything I say to Isabel will go right straight back to my mother. And I do not want to discuss this thing between Liz and I, with her.

“I don’t,” I say brusquely. Isabel nods her head, not believing a word I’m saying, takes a seat across from me and levels me with a serious frown.

“Why don’t you ever talk to me about things? I feel like whenever I have a problem, I come to you but you can’t do that with me. Is it because you think I’m too immature and spoiled?” she asks, not feigning being hurt. I know it bothers her, but what can I do?

“Isabel, that’s not it. And I’ve come to you in the past about Serena and me. This with Liz is just different because I don’t know what I’m feeling about it.”

“You tell Michael though, right?”

I can’t lie, so I nod my head as I settle forward in my chair. Resting my elbows on the deep cherry wood top of my desk, I lift my gaze to my sister’s face and realize she’s right. I don’t think she’s mature enough for some things, maybe because at times she doesn’t act any older than a sixteen year old. Realizing I’m not being fair, I sigh and begin to explain all that’s occurred between Liz and I, as well as Serena and I.

After a few minutes, Isabel draws in a deep breath and pretends to remove lint from her Armani suit pants.

She clears her throat before responding. “So you haven’t spoken to Liz in a week?” I nod.

“And she’s okay with that right?” I nod again, hesitantly.

“To be honest, Liz isn’t very forthcoming with her personal thoughts. She said it was a good thing for her, but I don’t know Isabel. I can’t read her. I mean, I can on some level, but deeper than surface it takes me a while.”

“I understand,” she supplies readily. I gauge her for a moment before asking how she understands.

I watch as my sister stands and moves to the window of my office, peering at the cloudy sky above. She runs her index finger against the glass before speaking.

“I think a lot of times, when I’m with these guys, that I want one thing. I actually manage to convince myself that I want someone to take care of me, and do everything for me. Buy me things even before I ask, and while that’s nice sometimes, it isn’t what I really want.” I watch her, without moving, barely breathing because this is something Isabel has never said aloud to me, or to anyone I’m sure.

I realize this is a profound moment for her, and it seems that only recently, with this situation with Liz going on, has Isabel opened up to me more. I won’t question it further, but the prospect of why intrigues me.

“I’m spoiled. I’ll be the first to admit it. But that’s not all I am. No one takes me seriously and I’m not sure how to change their minds. I guess I’ve never cared about anyone enough to want to change their mind. I may not be going through what Liz is, but I can understand having someone want something of you, you just don’t know how to give.”

I lean back heavily in my chair and think over what she’s saying. “You mean to tell me that even if Liz wanted to tell me things about herself…she doesn’t know how?” Isabel nods.

“Isabel, I try and talk to her, tell her things about me and—”

“It doesn’t matter. You could tell her your deepest darkest secrets, and she may listen, she may care, but she’s not going to give you anything of her she’s not willing to lose forever.”

I’ve completely and utterly lost my sister. Now I know why I talk to Michael a lot. He doesn’t talk in circles; leave me guessing to his meaning. If I’m being an asshole, he says, ‘Max, you’re an asshole,’ I can take that. Hell even if I don’t like something he says, I can still take it. But what Isabel is talking about, I just don’t understand.

Obviously my wholehearted weariness and confusion is stamped across my face, because Isabel is now standing in front of my desk, peering down at me with a softness in her face I don’t see that often.

“Max, women have secrets, secrets they don’t even tell their best friends.” I have to scoff at the moment, in thought of Liz’s best friend and draw my attention back to my sister.

“Some things are sacred. Especially our hearts, once we give it away, we can’t ever get it back. Not the way we gave it. A little piece dies off and stays with the person we’ve entrusted it to. It seems to me that Liz made a mistake once, she gave her heart away and never got it back.” Isabel pauses to lean over and take my hand. I’m not sure why, but it unsettles me.

Offering me a classic Isabel smile, not so much a smile, but more of a half a smile, half smirk, she continues, “I personally think Liz gave her heart to the wrong person and she’s terrified of doing it again. Even though I think the person she picks this time would undoubtedly come to love her, and cherish her, forever.”

I seem to have fallen into some weird trance, and only the clapping of Isabel’s hands, shakes me.

“What the hell was all that about, Isabel? I know you’re not trying to say that she would pick me, right?” I ask, standing and pacing. I don’t want to think about this, I can’t.

Doesn’t she understand that Liz most days seems to barely tolerate me in the same room with her?

“Why not you?” she asks crossly.

“Isabel, I’ve been down that road before. I’m happy with my life. I’m happy being single. I’m happy coming home at night and doing whatever the fuck I feel like. I don’t have answer to anyone, or…” I trail off, knowing that those are all things I’ve told myself at night, when I’m laying in bed alone.

“Or what, Max? No one likes to be alone. You can tell me anything you want, but you weren’t happy with Serena.”

“I was Isabel, but…you just don’t understand!” I grind out frustratingly.

“Why don’t you explain it to me? You didn’t love her, Max. How could you? You were so busy trying to build a life for her, and for you, you just didn’t have time. You punished yourself for it. Don’t you think that even I could see that? Why do you think Serena is still your friend? Why do you think she couldn’t banish you from her life for not loving her enough?” she hisses out, her face a mere inch from mine, construed in complete and utter anger.

“You don’t know a damn thing about what I went through with Serena. You don’t know!”

“I do, Max. Who do you think she would call, when Maria wasn’t around? Who do you think knew that she loved you so much that she could never imagine being without you? And who do you think knew it broke her heart to realize, what you and she had, wasn’t real?”

“Get out!” I bark out, but Isabel doesn’t flinch. Instead she quickly reaches her arms around me and hugs me, I don’t return the sentiment. My heart is thrashing in my chest, my lungs feel heavy from the labored breathing, and all I feel like doing is crying.

After a few minutes, I step away and take a deep breath. I peer out the blinds again, but I still see Michael otherwise occupied with Alex.

“I’m sorry,” comes her weak reply.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s true.” I say, not wanting her to see me like this.

“You know, Max. You’re my big brother and I look up to you. But I feel as your younger, beautiful and intelligent sister that I should tell you when you’re wrong.” I turn and smile at her; she smiles sweetly and walks over to my side.

“So be honest, Izzy. You like Alex don’t you?”

She contemplates the question for a second before answering. “I do. But I don’t know him.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can figure out a way to get him to ask you out. I’ve seen you do it before, you do have a gift.” She elbows me in the side playfully and says, “Yeah, I do. And maybe if you’re nicer to me, I’ll share my secret with you.”

I scoff at the idea. I don’t need her help. Really, I’m a man. I’ve asked out lots of woman, not a complaint yet. What does she think I am? An amateur or something…still I turn to her and say, “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer, if I can’t get Liz to budge.”

“You admit you want to go out with her, on an officially named date?” The teasing in her voice makes me want to spit just to show how manly I really am. But what the hell, Isabel obviously knows me better than I ever thought she did. There’s no point in dwelling on it, is there?

“Don’t push your luck.”

“How about I pop over into Mike’s office and drop something off, and report back to you?” she says and without a second thought I walk over to my door and push her out, but not before telling her it’s a good idea.


<center>****</center>


I pace my office waiting for Isabel. What the hell is taking her so damn long; it’s been…five minutes!

“You guys suck at spy work! It’s a damn good thing Alex was too caught up in seeing Isabel that he didn’t question why she asked if I wanted any coffee, when my secretary just brought me in a fresh cup, which was sitting on the corner of my desk.” Michael shakes his head and I notice that Isabel hasn’t come back.

“Oh, don’t worry. You’re little spy in training will be here any moment. She’s just finishing up a conversation with Alex.”

“Right.” I swallow thickly.

“So…” I hedge on, staring at a blank piece of paper.

“I wanted to interview Alex for the design position, and I wanted to make sure he knew it had nothing to do with you giving him a job or some shit like that. Is that okay?”

I defend myself weakly, “Of course it is! But you should have still told me. Maybe I don’t think Alex is…” I trail off looking at my brother’s sardonic face.

“When is he starting?”

“He’s not—” I cut him off.

“What! Why the hell not?” I jump up and round my desk to stand beside him.

“Because maybe he wanted to talk to you himself. Maybe he wanted to know why suddenly you stopped coming around to see his sister,” comes a familiar voice from my open office door.

I turn around and see Alex, with Isabel behind him mouthing a ‘sorry’ to me. I shake my head ruefully; thankfully the world has better spies than Isabel and me.

TBC…

A/N - Sorry...post is a few hours late. Good news my hand is better, still have some sharp pain here and there, but thank you all

Now...I wanted to thank you all for your feedback, things will start picking up in just a few chapters, there is just some ground work that needs to be covered first.

Thank you for reading...enjoy!

Tanya



Chapter Thirteen


<center>Brothers, Best Friends, and Ex-Girlfriends</center>


Alex’s blue eyes pierce through me with a determined gaze. He wants to know why I haven’t been around to see his sister, but what I can’t figure out is why Liz didn’t tell him why I hadn’t come around.

I take a seat at the edge of my desk, as he leans against my closed door. “I take it you didn’t talk to Liz,” I comment, watching his reaction closely. His demeanor changes and he tilts his head to the side and then shakes his head. Pushing off the door with his shoulders he strides across the room, takes a seat on the brown leather couch in the corner, and then looks up at me.

“You know I try and stay out of my sisters business, but I did hear you both argue last week. I didn’t think you were the kind of guy to go sneaking around in the night; crawling through girl’s windows,” he says with a flicker of a smile in his eyes.

I try to hide my own smile. “I don’t normally do that, but I wanted to talk to Liz about a few things. It was late and I didn’t want to wake you, sorry.”

Alex nods, and throws one arm around the back of the couch, waiting for something. Ah, yes. The explanation as to why I haven’t been around.

“I don’t know why Liz didn’t tell you, but I told her I thought we needed some time apart. She’s been stressed out, and I’ve only added, if not made the problem worse.”

“Does this have anything to do with Danny?” he speculates. I let out a deep groan, I don’t want to talk about it, but when I peer over at Alex, I realize he’s comfortable and not leaving until he has answers. Pushing off the desk, I return to my chair and lean back heavily in it.

Does it have anything to do with Danny? I guess trying to appease Alex with some pathetic excuse would be pointless. Besides I never back down, and the truth is the only option.

“It has to do with Danny, who I still don’t know anything about; except that he was way to old to be with Liz. And it has to do with Dean, and his arrogant protectiveness, his hold on Liz, and…” I pause, when I hear Alex…laughing.

“What, is so funny?” I practically growl out. I find nothing humorous about this situation.

Alex waves his hand, and then stifles his laugh. “I’m not laughing at you Max. I’m laughing at the faces you make when talking about Dean. I’m really surprised Liz told you about Danny, about his age, I mean.”

“Yes, what the hell was she thinking? She told me you were angry with her; probably one of the only times you ever lost it.” I smile at him, and watch as his features harden a bit and he stands.

“I wanted to lock her in her room forever, when she came to me with that. I tried to understand her, I really did. But damn, twenty-five years older? That just made no damn sense to me. She never dated early on in high school. Then she finally just started going out casually, but nothing serious. Then she comes home and says she met someone, she seemed really enthusiastic, genuinely happy, so I was trying to be happy for her. Then, I find out…” Alex pauses, runs a hand through his wavy hair, disturbing his once neatly combed brown locks, and then looks at me with a face that I can only describe as…pleading.

It’s almost as if he’s trying to make me understand his reasons for letting things get to where they have.

“Alex, you did the best you could. Liz, I can tell, is stubborn. That’s both a good and a bad thing, depending on the situation. She’s your sister; you were trying to do right by her. You only wanted her to be happy. I can understand that.”

“Yeah, but Danny just…” he trails off, shaking his head. Why do I get the feeling Alex really didn’t like the situation between Liz and her husband? I know that Liz already hinted to me that her relationship with Danny looked great; but it might not have been all that she wanted.

I force the next words out of my mouth, “Alex, did he…abuse her?”

“God no! I would have killed him myself. But Max, come on, he was old enough to be her father. What was he doing with her? Why her? She deserves so much better. And I just let her walk right into it. Did she tell you he was married when she met him?” I nod.

“Married! I fought with Liz so bad over him. I hated fighting with her, but damn that entire situation was just unhealthy for her, and she didn’t see it that way. So ultimately, I just gave in. Because for me, having my sister not talk to me wasn’t worth it.”

“I understand.” Alex’s eyes connect with mine, and I know he can see that I really do.

I find myself faced with a golden opportunity; this is the only chance I’m going to get to understand maybe a little about Danny and Liz’s relationship.

“Don’t, Max.”

I narrow my gaze. “Don’t what?”

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know. I can see it, it’s written all over your face. Liz and Danny never hung out around me. She didn’t talk much about him. All I know is that, before he died they had some kind of argument. It was pretty bad and I don’t know for sure, but I think he walked out on her.”

I’m about to ask him more, but Michael pops his head in, telling me I’m late for the meeting that started fifteen minutes ago.

Damn!

“Sorry to keep you. Honestly, Max. Liz didn’t tell me you were taking a break.”

“Just for a few weeks. I’m in town this week, and then I’m flying out for a few days, but when I return I’ll stop by. How is she doing?” I ask, because I really want to know. I didn’t want to seem too anxious, but I do miss talking to her.

“Good. She’s…” He looks up at me, and I must look like I’m hanging on his every word, so I go about my business of getting the file I need for the meeting, when his voice breaks the silence.

“She misses you.”

I’m surprised. Shocked even. Time to burst the bubble.

“She’s got Dean,” I try and sound causal, but it comes out sounding like I’m a jealous boyfriend, which I hate.

“Dean. He’s really gotten under your skin,” he comments with a smirk on his lips, walking over to my door.

“You know Max, Dean is like family. Liz has known him since they were fifteen, but you know what?” I look up, trying to appear completely disinterested, when I’m anything but.

“What?”

“She’s pregnant with your baby, not his.”

“That doesn’t mean the guy doesn’t know when to back off,” I say abruptly. Alex once again laughs and shakes his head.

“Max, it would be better if you just accepted their relationship. Things will be easier for you.”

“Come on Alex, man to man, he’s in love with her.” Damn, I hate sounding like a teenager who didn’t get the girl.

“I agree. He’s in love with her; as a friend.”

“Right,” I scoff disbelievingly.

Alex places a hand on my back as we make our way out of my office.

“Max, I’m going to tell you something maybe you don’t know. But it’s for your own good that I extend the proverbial olive branch your way.” I turn to him, seemingly interested.

“You may not know this; but Danny never wanted to have kids with Liz. He thought he was too old; which as we know, he was. Do you know how much that broke Liz’s heart?” He doesn’t wait for my response, he just continues and I am eager to find out where this is going.

“She told me that you told her, she got lucky with you; because you wanted kids. Do you have any idea how happy that made her?” He doesn’t wait for my response.

“Dean was furious with her. He had his reasons, but none of them was jealousy. He’s not jealous of you, Max. He’s scared of you.”

“Scared? Of what?”

“That, my friend, is an excellent question. One you’re unfortunately going to have to figure out the answer to, on your own.” With that Alex turns and walk back in the opposite direction, towards the exit.

I’m not sure I understand everything Alex just said. Maybe Dean is pissed at me, because he now realizes it could have been him in my place, having a child with Liz. But if what Alex says it true, then he’s not jealous of me. So that rules out that scenario. Damn, but if only someone would give me a straight answer; all this hinting is slowly driving me insane.

What about me would scare Dean?

I give up the fight, and walk into my meeting. There is no point in me trying to solve a puzzle I hardly even understand.


<center>****</center>


“Does Michael know you’re here?” I take a bite of my sandwich and regard Maria with a delicate shake of my head.

“He will kick your ass if he finds out.” I know it’s true. In fact, I had to cancel on her last week because Mike decided at the last minute we had to check out this new place that opened up down the street, for lunch.

“I know. But he won’t find out. Now, I didn’t come here to talk about him.”

I watch Maria’s expression change. Things have gotten so out of control, I am at odds. While I have my loyalty to my brother, Maria used to be my sister-in-law. She and I have been through a lot together; with Serena being her sister and all.

Her green eyes, peer into mine. I know she wants to talk about Michael, but it will only make things more difficult for her.

“So, how are things with you?”

“They’re okay. I’m still trying to work things out.” She nods her head; her golden blonde hair is straightened today. It comes past her shoulders, and covers part of her face from my view.

“Michael’s good Maria.” She looks up at me, and I try and keep the sympathy out of my voice and erased from my face.

“That’s good. Is he still seeing that girl?” she asks, nonchalantly, but I know it hurts her.

“Maria…”

“Just tell me.” I don’t have the heart, so I nod briefly as I take a sip of my Coke.

Maria and I for the most part, usually have lunch and talk about everything else, except Michael. Today though, she’s in a special mood. I don’t know why though.

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

“Yes,” she answers, too quickly.

“Maria, come on. Tell me,” I coax her softly. She lets her fork drop, and peers down at her half eaten salad. Her shoulders sag and she tilts her head back, staring at the ceiling before looking at me.

“I’m leaving.”

“Leaving? As is you’re taking a vacation?” I say and she shakes her head.

“They want me to get their London shop up and running. I’ll be gone for about a year, maybe more if I like it.” It’s my turn to drop my fork, it clacks loudly down at the edge of my plate and I sit staring at her in confusion.

“You’re going to live in London? What about Serena? I mean…”

“Greg is moving in, so it all works out.” She waves her hand dismissively in the air and reaches out for her glass of water. I watch as she takes a long sip. I narrow my gaze accusingly at her.

“Why would you leave?”

“Why should I stay? To watch Michael prance around with his latest girlfriend?” she says bitterly.

“This is about him? Maria you’re going to leave your entire family behind, because of this thing between you two?”

“Thing? Max he broke up with me. He didn’t want me! Don’t you think that hurts enough without having to see him almost every damn day with someone? Someone that isn’t me!” she hisses out, swiping her tears away angrily. Realizing this public restaurant isn’t the best place to being having this conversation; I quickly ask for the check and we make our way outside.

My car is closer and I usher her over to it. I hold the door open for her, but she stares at me warily. “Come on, Maria. I just want to talk.”

“So long as you promise not to try and convince me to stay,” she mutters, wrapping her arms around herself.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I say, meaning it. It’s her choice, but I feel like for Michael I need to try and understand it. I’ll be damned if I don’t tell him what she’s planning.

Once we’re in the confines of my car, I turn to her. “Maria, I can imagine what you must be feeling. I’m sure it’s hard to see him, but you have to know that those girls don’t mean anything to him.”

“Yes, but he’s still with them. Not me,” she spits out venomously. Maria is scary when she’s angry, that’s all I’m going to say.

“How am I supposed to move on, when all I do is see him? Do you know how many dates I’ve gone on since we broke up?” she asks, not wanting an answer. This is Maria’s way of working things out. So I sit back and just listen.

“Three! Three damn, sorry ass dates. I can’t even have meaningless sex, like a normal person! I should be allowed to walk around, go shopping and not see him. He doesn’t love me, I get that, but does he have to throw it in my face?” This time she pauses and looks up at me, she looks so…broken. I groan inwardly, I am the last person that understands relationships, but I try and help. Try.

“I can assure you, he’s not throwing it in your face. He thinks you’re over him.”

“Do I look over him!” she cries.

“No. But he doesn’t know that.”

“And he won’t!” she says with determination.

“Because you’re leaving?” I surmise.

“Yes. It’s too late. I need to get over him. I need to move on. Everyone else is. I’m not seventeen, I have to stop the dreaming.” I almost believe her.

I reach out to her, taking her hand gently into mine. “Maria, are you going to tell him you’re leaving?”

“No. It won’t matter. Besides, I refuse to be one of those girls.” She hisses out, through her tears.

“What girls?” I ask, wholeheartedly not sure what she really means.

She narrows her gaze at me, angrily. “You know, the kind of girl that goes to her ex-boyfriend as a desperate attempt to get him back, to get him to realize what a prize you are and how wrong he was for letting you go?” I obviously still look confused, she sighs heavily and continues.

“Max, if I go to him, he may ask me to stay. He may tell me to go to hell, either way, I’ll look like the desperate one.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Max, Michael is not like you, when it comes to relationships. I knew that, I understood it, which is why I know Michael would never ask me to stay. He’s got too much pride for that.” She finishes sadly, swiping the tears from her eyes. I reach over in my glove box and pull out a tissue.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.” I just watch her, wish I could say something clever. Something to make her smile, but I don’t think anything will help.

“Michael still loves you,” I blurt out as she reaches for the door handle.

She turns back to me, completely composed, offers me a sad smile and steps out onto the sidewalk.

I resign myself with the situation; I can’t change anything. It’s not my fight.

“When are you leaving?” I ask, because I don’t want her leaving without saying good-bye.

“Next month. Don’t worry though; I’m going to be here when that adorable baby of yours arrives in this world. I wouldn’t miss it, Max.” She smiles. And I can’t help the nervous flutter in my chest thinking about my child.

“I’m so very happy for you, not matter how it came to be. Liz is a very lucky girl. Serena wasn’t exaggerating about that.” She offers me a short wave, before closing the door and walking towards her car.

I settle back in my seat. What am I supposed to do with this information? Do I go to Michael and tell him that Maria is leaving? He’ll know that I’ve been seeing her occasionally, but always behind his back. More importantly, will it change anything? Maria seems to think it won’t, but Michael deserves to know. I’ll give her a chance to tell him, but if she doesn’t then I won’t be left with a choice.

I just hope it isn’t my brother who ends up more broken than he already is. People think Michael is immune to such frivolous emotions (his words not mine), but he’s not. And I’m afraid of what Maria leaving would do to him.

He might have broken up with her, but to Michael, he was doing her a favor. Too bad, he’s the only one that sees it that way.

TBC…

A/N –First of all I want to thank you all for your feedback. Secondly, some of you have very interesting theories on Dean…there is however, only one person that is on the right track: Ellie. Cereth – I think Maria and Michael are long over-due for that make up sessions…too bad Michael isn’t in the game, yet.

Now here comes the long winded note – Every year I forgo entering Nano (for those of you who don’t know what Nano is, it’s a month long writing challenge of sorts to complete 50,000 words in 30 days. And it takes place during the month of November). So every year it comes and it goes and I want to enter but I’m usually always in the middle of writing a fanfic. This year is no different, but I promised myself no matter what I was doing, I would give it a shot. It’s my opportunity to work on an original story.

What does this mean for this story? It basically means, I’ve got up to Chapter 16 completed, that’s as far ahead as I’ve written. Do I know what happens after, yes, I have it all outlined to the very end, so this isn’t a note to tell you I’m leaving. I’m just taking a tiny month-long break to see if I can complete the challenge.

Since I’m posting Chapter 14, I can come back and post for the next two weeks updates, but after that, you’re not going to see an update until December. I wanted, and I TRIED to get 6 more chapters done so that you guys wouldn’t miss a beat, just didn’t work out. I took too long on Chapter 15 & 16, fixing them until I was happy LOL!

I hope you guys understand, and know that I will be back with normal updates in December, on the same updating schedule; weekly. And I’ll have a one-part Christmas story that will be the ‘sequel’ to Remember When…so see its not the end LOL

Thanks & Enjoy!

Tanya




Chapter Fourteen

<center>Absence makes the heart grow…</center>


Why is it that any attempt I make at doing the right thing always gets misconstrued? I think it’s a mini curse that’s settled around me lately.

For instance, I haven’t spoken to Liz in two weeks, I call her and she doesn’t answer her phone. You’d think she could at least answer it, even if she were busy, and ask me to call her back. No. Instead, I get voicemail.

At first I thought I was jumping to conclusions, but if that were the case then why am I standing outside of her place, and after knocking and ringing the doorbell; why is no one answering?

I know someone is home, because the television is on. And knowing that I’m not that perceptive to the finer details of a woman’s psyche, I called Alex to confirm that Liz would be home. He assured me she was home; she wasn’t feeling well but practically pushed him out the door for his date with Isabel.

Smiling, despite the situation, I remember Isabel’s phone call to me earlier this morning about tonight…

“Max, what do you think I should wear,” she’d asked. And I smiled to myself thinking; doesn’t she realize I’m a guy, and her brother so I could honestly care less? But in trying to appreciate Isabel and our newfound bond, I tried to assist.

“I think Alex mentioned something about loving the color red on you. I think you wore that color the day we were in my office.” She had done that squealing girl thing, and thanked me before hanging up.

Now, though as I stand outside of Liz’s door, with her not answering, two things run through my mind. First is; maybe she’s too sick to even come to the door, which worries me. And the other; is something I’m not sure I’m ready to admit; even to myself.

Heaving a deep breath, I try the door once more, but there is no answer. The worry creeps up my spine and I decide to try her window. With any luck, maybe she’s left it open.

Once I round the corner and peer inside her window, the lights are out, but I can see the glow from the living room light illuminating the hallway. I try the window, and thankfully it’s open.

Again, I find myself crawling through her window, like a teenager sneaking in to see his girlfriend while her parents are sleeping. I thankfully manage to not knock anything over, and I feel a small sense of triumph in it.

A man has to take his triumphs; even as little as they are, when he can.

I straighten my clothes and once I gather enough strength to face her, I make my way out of her door and down the hall.

The moment I see her curled up on the couch, looking so small and pale, I resist the urge rush to her side. She sees me the moment I step from the hall. Liz pushes up from her laying position, tries to fix her hair and muster a smile for me.

Something about that, this moment, makes my heart beat heavily in my chest. Again, something I’m not willing to even think about shifts in my mind and I have to shake my head to focus back on her.

“Max! What are you doing here? How did you get in?” she fires off the questions, trying to put off my concerned look, I’m sure.

I rush with my answers as I kneel down in front of her, “I wanted to see you. Your window,” and then I ask, “What’s wrong?” I reach out and place my hands on her bare knees, and avoid at all costs looking down; she’s once again wearing a barely there nightie.

“Nothing. I’ve just been sick all day.” She tries to straighten up more fully, but I reach out and steady her shoulders; keeping her in place.

“Do you have a fever?” I ask, as everything compassionate in me stands up on end, waiting for her response. The sudden and utterly debilitating urge to take care of her washes over me. Her hair is damp, maybe from a shower, or from sweat; I hope it’s from the former. Her skin feel cool and clammy; she definitely has a fever. A slight one, my nerves settle a bit.

“I don’t know. I haven’t thrown up in a sold half hour, so I’m happy,” she says, offering me up a small smile. I can tell how awful she really feels, and I feel my heart squeeze over the fact that she’s trying to make light of it. I’m not at all comfortable of these feelings, so I’ll ignore them, surely they’ll go away once I get her feeling better.

It’s the only safe alternative for me.

I can’t allow myself to feel anything for Liz, when I still don’t even know where I stand with her. I hope the time apart was good for us, I know it allowed me to think about everything clearly.

It also made me think about feelings I haven’t even considered in years. Which makes this situation, being with her alone, so difficult for me.

“I just need to wash my face,” she says, pushing off the couch and standing in front of me. I look up at her, from my position on the floor, I fight the urge to pull her down and wrap my arms around her. To ask her soothingly, what I can do to make her feel better…to…to…Do things I haven’t wanted to do for another woman in a long time.

This is the fresh confusion that has settled around me now. My feelings for Liz aren’t clear, they don’t even have words, but there is something there. Something that I fear is more than likely, one sided.

Quickly I raise myself to standing, and without a second thought, lean down and lift her in my arms.

“Max! Put me down!” She tries her hardest to swat me away, all in vain, because I don’t put her down until we reach the bathroom. I place her gently on the counter. The space isn’t very big, but neither is she.

“I can walk you know?” she grumbles out, even though I’m obviously ignoring her in search of a washcloth.

“Just sit still, or you’ll fall off the sink.”

“I don’t have to listen to you,” she says, tartly. I pause, and look at her. My eyes narrow, why is she so hostile?

I focus back on the task of running the cloth under cold water, wringing it out and then placing it on her forehead.

“That’s cold, dammit!” she says, pushing my hand away. I grab her wrist, and ease it down gently to her lap.

“Why are you so pissed off at me?” I question, as I continue to run the cloth against her face.

“I’m not,” she retorts, quickly.

“You are,” I challenge. Thankfully, her words are stilled when I bring the cloth down to her neck. I run it along her collarbone, then over to her shoulders, before submerging it in the cold water of the sink once again.

“Better?” I ask softly.

“Yes,” she says, not looking at me. Despite the situation, a smile tugs at the corners of my lips. How did I think she couldn’t affect me? Seeing her now, so determined to not let me help her, angry with herself for letting me, I can’t help the fact that somewhere in all this I have started to care about her. More than her being pregnant with my child, how much more, I’m not willing to prod.

“You going to sit still long enough for me to finish?” I ask, already wringing out the washcloth and bringing it to her exposed legs.

“Max,” she says my name, meaning to sound stern I’m sure, but it sounds anything but. It’s more a breathy whisper and I grind my teeth at the urge flooding through me to elicit such a wonderful sound again from her lips.

“Shh, would you just let me finish?”

“Why?” she questions, her voice soft and wondering.

I try not to look at her; instead I focus on running the cloth over her exposed legs, then up her arms, and then finally back on her throat. I see her swallow thickly, I can feel her breath quicken, and I fight the urge to say, “Good at least I’m not the only one affected,” but that would be the egotistical male thing to do (Although it would be really nice to take her down a few notches, for the record).

She’s silent for the next few minutes, but when I turn my back to replace the washcloth I hear her soft words. “Did you really mean it?”

“Mean what?” I ask, moving slowly. She’s like a skittish cat sometimes. Every move I make has to be well thought out, or she’ll close right up again. Will it always be this hard to talk to her?

I pin her down with a wondering gaze, but her eyes avert mine, and she fidgets with hem of her nightie.

“That you wanted to see me,” she mumbles out, pushing her hair away from her face and letting out a deep sigh. I step closer to her, brace my hands on either side of her on the counter and step between her legs. I don’t realize how intimate the position puts us in, maybe because intimacy is the last thing I’m thinking about (okay, maybe not the last, but I do think about other things…)

“Liz, look at me.” When she does I’m wholeheartedly unprepared for what I see in her eyes, it knocks the air right out of me.

Somehow I manage to locate my tongue and lean in close to her ear. “I missed you. I missed talking to you. I missed seeing you. How about you?”

“What about me?” she asks softly, breathlessly. I grin in satisfaction; I obviously affect her more than she lets on. Good.

I rear back, placing our foreheads together, and explain to her what I’m looking for. How can she not know, that I’d like some reassurance that I was missed?

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” I ask, placing a kiss on her cheek, just because I feel like it. She rolls her eyes, throws her hands up in the air, and then finally manages to focus back on me.

I wonder if she knows how affected I am around her. How I can’t seem to control my body, or my mind. The things I think about being this close to her should be a sin. I may not know what exactly my feelings for her are, but I’m a man and I do know that she entices me with very little effort.

The things I would do with her lips, her hands and her body.

“I missed you,” she admits, and I can’t help my reaction to it. I lean in, cradle her face in my hands, and kiss her. A small kiss, because I couldn’t handle anything more right now.

“What the hell is going on?” We both freeze and turn to see the vain of my existence.

“Hi Dean,” says Liz, as I step away and groan inwardly.


<center>****</center>


“I was just coming to check on you, but when you didn’t answer the door, I used my key.” Dean says and I can’t help but think, Of course he has a key.

“Oh, thanks. I’m fine. Max came over to keep me company.” Liz has the damn nerve to be blushing right now. I shake my head, little devil that she is.

The bastard has the nerve to scoff. The hell with it, I can’t hold my tongue any longer.

“You got a problem with that?” I say, turning towards Dean, after I place Liz back on her feet. She quickly scurries to stand between us.

“No. No problem. It’s just my best friend is sick, and you come over to help and all I see is you taking advantage of her.”

“Dean!” Liz slaps him across the chest in my defense and I try to hide the smile from my eyes.

He looks down at her, his eyes soften, and damn, I don’t like the way he looks at her.

Not. One. Bit.

“I’m sorry, babe, but you should be laying down, not being groped in the bathroom.”

“I was not groping her!” I growl out.

“And if you had any sense you would have waited outside until someone answered the door, or better yet,” I pause and look down at his left hand holding the shiny silver key ring, “Go back home.”

“Max, stop being mean,” Liz says turning to me.

“Me? You’re joking right? This guy comes in here accusing me of things and I’m supposed to be nice to him?” I say in outrage, looking down into her pleading face. But I won’t back down, not this time.

“Look, all I know is you should be in bed. I don’t care what he’s doing here. Let’s go.” Dean reaches out to take her arm, and I quickly wrap an arm around her waist. Just waiting for him to say something. In fact, I’m salivating in the thought.

“Let her go,” he pins me down with a furious glare, (Too bad Dean boy, I’m not scared of you).

“Not on your life. Why don’t you go home, Liz will call you later.” I growl out, thrusting Liz to my side. Dean’s eyes narrow to tiny slits.

“Liz, what the hell were you thinking, letting him in here?” He looks at Liz, who has yet to say anything, and I have half a mind to wonder why.

“Excuse me, but who the hell do you think you are?”

“That’s none of your business. Liz is the only thing that matters,” he grinds out, his hands now fisted and turning white.

“At least we agree on something—”

“How about you both leave?” says Liz moving from my grasp, not that I was holding too tight.

“I’m not leaving,” I say immediately, pining Dean down with a villainous glare.

“Neither am I,” says Dean.

“You know what then?” she says, and breezes past us, “I am!” With that the sound of her bedroom door slamming reverberates around us.

Leaving Dean and I, face-to-face, breathing heavily, and damn near about to have a growling contest. What the hell is wrong with me?

I break the staring match and move to walk out of the small bathroom. Dean follows right behind me, but he’s got another thing coming if he thinks for one second I’m leaving.

“The door is that way,” he says from behind me, and obviously he wasn’t counting on me turning around on him, seeing as he practically topples backward when I spin to face him.

“Let’s get this straight Dean. I’m not going to say it again. I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to be here for Liz, whether you like it or not. It would be easier if you’d back off, but seeing as how that doesn’t seem to be your style, we need to figure something out.” I try and sound calm and rational, although I’m seething inside and I’m sure my voice couldn’t be more malicious.

“I think I liked it better before you came around. In fact, you were gone for a blessed two weeks, why don’t you crawl back under that rock!” he grits out, finding his balance moments ago and now practically an inch from my face.

I recoil my anger, because in a moment I’ll be arrested for assault. I’m not normally such an aggressive person, but something about this guy just pushes my buttons. Stepping back, I move around to the other side of the couch, knowing I’ve got to put distance between us.

“Obviously your best friend didn’t share my reasoning for leaving for two weeks. So, giving you the benefit of the doubt, although I don’t think you deserve it, I’ll tell you why I left.”

“I don’t care.”

“Too damn bad, Dean. Look, I’m too old for this shit.” I run a hand through my hair and take a seat on the arm of the couch. Thankfully, his hot mouth isn’t running off, yet. He watches me intently and I decide to trust in what Alex told me. Dean is scared of me, why, I don’t know, but I intend on finding out.

I stare him down, conveying my purpose of making him understand once and for all what I’m about, when it comes to Liz and this situation. “This whole situation is not ideal, and Liz was having a hard time dealing with things. I don’t know when to push, when not to, how many questions are too many…nothing. I saw that dealing with this pregnancy was going to be so much harder for her, than me. I also saw that my presence was stressing her out. Maybe I was asking too much of her, maybe not enough…hell I don’t know. But I do know that she needed time to herself. And I gave that to her, because I care about her.” My eyes haven’t left his, but a moment later his gaze drops to the floor.

Watching him closely, I see the fight in him die, even if it’s just for now.

“Damn,” he hisses out, and plunges into the chair across from me.

“You know Max, I want to hate you. But you do stick to your word don’t you?” he says, shaking his head, not truly meaning for me to answer the question.

The room is completely silent, and my heart pounds in my chest. I really just want to see Liz, and check on her. But I don’t dare move, I wait for his move.

Dean runs a hand through his curly brown hair, leans back heavily in the chair, and stares at the ceiling for a few minutes.

Then almost as if pushed, he lunges out of the chair and walks past me, towards the door. “Tell Liz, I’ll call her later.” And he leaves. Just like that. I don’t think I’ll ever understand him.


<center>****</center>


I knock on her door, softly. She doesn’t answer, but I know she’s up. Dean and I probably woke the neighbors with our testosterone filled antics minutes ago.

“Liz, let me in.”

“No, you stubborn ass!” I smile, despite the situation. Feisty isn’t she? I like that.

“I’m coming in!” I call out, before turning the knob.

“Max Evans, get out!” she cries, quickly reaching for her blanket. Damn that nightie.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, coming to sit at the edge of her bed, she tries to kick at me with her feet. I wrestle them still as I kneel before the bed.

“Better, but Max you can’t just go arguing with Dean.”

“Me? Liz he—”

“I don’t want the excuses, Max. I mean he did find us kissing in the bathroom!” Her cheeks are blushed with embarrassment and I can’t help but laugh.

“This is not funny, Max!” she admonishes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. And if it helps, I think Dean and I have come to an understanding.”

“Yeah?” I nod.

“What was your understanding?”

I decide to tease her, since it seems I like when she blushes, a lot. I lean up and take a seat next to her, making sure the covers are at a respectable level; I eye her seriously.

“We agreed that next time I kiss you, we’d do it in the privacy of your bedroom.”

She gasps, sputters and then throws her ragged bunny at me. “I can’t believe you…you said that!” There’s that damn blush again.

“I’m sorry!” I raise my hands in defense and she finally settles back. Reaching out, I run my hand down her cheek, she feels much cooler.

“Feeling better?”

“Yes, but I’m thirsty.” I remove my hand from her and stand. “I’ll go see what I can find in the fridge.”

“Thanks Max,” she says as I stand. I look down at her and smile. “My pleasure.”

I don’t know if the saying is true or not for many, but for me, absence has made my heart grow for her.

TBC…

A/N - Hey guys...well this is the second to last update, until December. I want to thank you all for your well-wishes for nano. I appreciate it so much!

Your feedback, makes me laugh and frown...I guess for several reasons. However, I can tell you that I can completely understand why you're not sure what to make of Dean, but you will. Now, for this part, if you guys have your thinking caps on and remember a few chapters back when I told you there was *something* in that chapter that would come up in this chapter, you will know something before Liz does

I hope you enjoy...and take comfort that the next part I leave you with next week is 14 pages long, so about twice the size of this update.

*hugs*

Tanya



Chapter Fifteen

<center>Old Friends…
Are good for a laugh or two</center>

A truce is what Alex is calling my confrontation with Dean. Of course he doesn’t know that I kissed his sister in the bathroom of their apartment, and as far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t need to know.

“He was pissed about finding you and Liz in the bathroom, though,” Alex says, and I snap to attention. I scowl at the thought of how Dean probably painted the picture of Liz and I in the bathroom. He probably said something like…

“He had her pinned against the wall, they were naked…” Or maybe that’s just what my mind is thinking. Damn, I’ve got it bad for Liz. I’ve discussed this sudden obsession with Liz and her being naked with my brother. Michael says I haven’t gotten laid in months; it’s only natural. At this point, I’ll take his word for it.

“Alex, it’s not what you think. I mean, yes I kissed Liz. But she was okay with it, and I wasn’t taking advantage of her. Because I’m sure Dean…” Alex stands and shakes his head, pushes one hand into his pocket and raises his other hand, staving off further conversation, from me.

“Max, I don’t really care about what you and my sister do in your private time. But,” he says pinning me with a serious look. “If you hurt her, Dean won’t be the only one you’ll have to deal with. I don’t know what your intentions are but I trust you because there is a lot at stake here. Liz is having your child, I can’t begin to understand that, but that doesn’t mean that I’ll go easy on you if you fuck up.”

“I’m not going to hurt her, not intentionally but Alex you have to know I would never take advantage of her.”

“That’s what I thought.” Is all he says, before switching gears back to my confrontation with Dean.

“So he didn’t take the walking in and seeing you guys kissing, well?” he asks, and I lift an eyebrow at him, as if saying ‘What do you think?’ he shakes his head.

“I’ve seen him angry before, and I don’t know what you said to appease him, but he did manage to grumble to me that you aren’t as bad as he thought. But he still doesn’t like you.”

“Yeah, well. The feeling is mutual. Especially since Liz is at his beck and call,” I bite out acidly.

Alex’s shoulders shake, and he tries his best to suppress his laugh, but he fails, for my sake, miserably.

I decide I don’t want to talk about Dean anymore, and change the subject.

“So Isabel tells me you have another date tonight. That’s three dates this week alone. Should I be concerned?” I lean back in my chair, and offer him an inquisitive look.

To be honest, it doesn’t bother me one bit about them dating. Isabel felt compelled to tell me because she feels the need to share things with me. Not that I’m complaining, but normally Michael is the one that knows everything about Isabel, and he fills me in over a beer. Again, after that talk we had, she’s just grown…more talkative to me. It’s different and…I’m just not used to it. Yet.

“No need to be concerned.” Alex fidgets in his chair. He does that around me a lot lately. Probably because Isabel told him how quickly one word from me has gotten her dates a one way ticket, away from her.

I study him carefully, and suppress the smile forming on my lips. Isabel really likes Alex. She says he’s honest and nothing about him is premeditated. If he gives her a compliment, there is nothing behind it, except for his genuine thought.

“That’s good to hear. My mom wants you at dinner Thursday, so don’t make plans.” I know that Isabel could have told him, but I like messing with Alex. It’s fun and he’s got a great sense of humor and he’s sharp.

“Dinner with your family is important isn’t it?” I look to him questioningly. He sees that I’m not quite sure what he means; so he goes on to explain.

“What I meant was, the fact that I’m being invited is important,” he says, looking everywhere but at me. Placing my hands at the edge of my desk, I push off and stand.

I turn towards the window and gaze out. The sun is blazing and it’s not even noon, another hot and humid day ahead. Without looking at Alex, I address his statement. “You’re damn right it is.” I state, finally turning towards him.

He looks serious, and he looks a little…pale. I take in the rest of his appearance. His hair is cut short; shorter than it was when I first met him. He wears glasses on occasion, like today. They suit him perfectly, black frames that fit neatly on his face. He’s one of the lucky ones, as the other staff calls them, that get to wear jeans to work on a daily basis.

Unless we have a meeting, I require all staff to be dressed appropriately. The division that Alex works in is called Development. Basically that means he sits in a room with a handful of others and works with Michael directly, together they work on bringing the ideas to life. Of course they have monster computers in there as well, which help a lot.

I enjoy Alex, talking to him, working with him; which is a good thing. I don’t find it that often, that I can get along with someone on a working level as well as outside of the office, with the exception of Michael and Isabel.

“Breathe, Alex. While it is important, you don’t have to worry about my mother planning a wedding or anything like that,” I tease; at least part of it is true. There is no need for me to tell Alex that my mother has called and pressed me for information about Isabel and Alex. My mother, for the most part stays out of our personal lives, unless we go to her directly.

…With the exception of my thing with Liz. But that’s another story altogether.

Diane Evans is a woman on a mission to find a man who deserves her little girl. We (meaning Michael, Isabel and I) have long since abandoned the challenge of explaining that Isabel hasn’t been a little girl in a long time.

“T-That’s good to know. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like Isabel…a lot,” he swallows and then jumps from his chair, like he couldn’t stand sitting one more second. My brows crease in wonder.

Alex beings to wring his hands, and now I’m getting worried. Does he not like her as much as I originally thought? Nah, it can’t be that. The way Alex looks at my sister, is not a in a ‘friends only’ kind of way. And knowing what I know of him, it doesn’t seem to me that Alex would back down from Isabel’s tough exterior façade, at least not already.

“Is there something wrong?” I ask, only because he looks like a lion trapped in a cage, trying to break free.

“Max, this really isn’t a conversation I’m comfortable talking to you about.”

“Right.” I say, but it comes out harsher than I want.

Alex steps to me, and shakes his head as if fighting with himself for a decision. I don’t know why I feel the need to know, but I do. Especially if it has to do with Isabel getting hurt, which I can only hope is not his intention.

Finally, his shoulders go limp and he lets out a sigh. I have never seen Alex like this.

“I spoke to Isabel about a few things, and she seems to think that throwing herself at me…will make me like her more.” I freeze at his confession. Not only do I feel awkward, I feel embarrassed for him, and for Isabel and for…myself. Damn, I need to keep my nose out of things where I am not concerned. I have my own shit to deal with.

I hadn’t noticed but Alex is still talking, “…I mean, I like her, but I’m not…I don’t think we’re at that stage and I don’t want her to think I’m turning her down—because…because I don’t want to turn her down and…”

“And yeah, Alex? I think I’ve heard enough. I have to be honest, I’m not up for talking about Isabel and your…relationship. I’m going to remove my foot from my mouth, and see to a few things.” I stride past him, and as I reach the door he stops me.

“Max?”

“Yeah?” I turn slightly, not avoiding eye contact, that’s not my style.

“Sorry.”

“My fault, Alex. Next time I ask, just tell me to mind my business, and we’ll leave it at that. What do you say?”

“Deal.”

Now with the terribly imagery Alex just provided me, I think I need some fresh air.


<center>****</center>


I don’t know why I haven’t approached her yet, but maybe a part of me wants to just watch her. It’s seldom that I get not only an unobstructed view of her, but also an uninterrupted one. That silky brown hair is pulled up on her head, held by a clip she apparently haphazardly placed there. A few wisps of hair fall down the back of her neck, over her shoulders and finally around her face. I smile as she nibbles on her lip and pushes her pen over her ear. Turning back to her computer, she begins to type away. I’m about to leave my hiding place, when I see someone approach her desk. I watch intently, curiously.

Since I can’t hear a damn thing from my place, I move a few cubicles closer. I’m a normal figure here, everyone knows me, not just because of my frequent trips to pick Liz up, but also because of my business dealings with this company; they are my insurance agent. Funny coincidence, isn’t it?

I pickup only the tail end of the conversation, my eyes narrow in anger. “I just thought maybe we could go to lunch, but if you’re busy today, we can shoot for tomorrow…” I stalk towards Liz and this guy, who has the nerve to hit on her. Is he insane?

She sees me right before I reach her side, behind her desk. “Max!” Her eyes go wide, and I’m sure she’s wondering if I overheard any of the conversation.

“Hey,” I say smiling down at her, and place a kiss on her cheek, being sure to offer this kid a look that says, back the hell away if you know what’s good for you.

“Liz, I’ll talk to you later then?”

Obviously, he’s slow.

I’m about to respond to his stupid question, but Liz reaches out and holds my hand. I look down at her, and see she’s pasted a smile on her face brighter than the sun, and tells Timmy (no grown man should be called that, ever) that she would be busy. And apologizes.

“What are you apologizing for? What the hell did he want?” I snarl, after he walks away.

“Max, what are you doing here?” she hisses, and appears angry…with me!

“Liz, was he hitting on you?” I know the answer, but I want to know if she’ll be honest with me.

“No. Max he was asking me to lunch. No big deal.” Realization must hit her, and she begins to pull the clip from her hair, pulls the pen out and does a general overall straightening of her clothes. I bite back my smile, because I am irritated.

“Regardless of what you think sweetheart, he was hitting on you. And I don’t like it. Next time, tell him if he wants to meet for lunch, I’ll be more than happy to accompany him.” I scowl down at her; she has the audacity to smile at me.

“This isn’t funny, Liz.” She shakes her head and places her palm against my chest.

“I’m sorry. You just…you look so adorable when you get jealous.” With that she blushes and looks around us, and sure enough we have an audience.

“I am not jealous.” I frown, because I know I am.

“Upset then.”

“I’m not upset.”

She lets out a soft sigh and says, “What then? What are you?” I reach up; cradling her face in my hands, search her eyes for a moment. And when I see that look of anticipation, I’m growing quite accustom to, I lean in.

“I’m happy to see you,” I say right before I seal our lips. I feel her tense up for a second before she gives in, allows me to caress her perfect lips with mine. I don’t push the kiss any further than a soft stroke or two before I pull away. Her eyes are closed and her lips are parted and I resist the urge to kiss her again. My heart is racing and my body is fully honed in on her ragged breathing.

Burring her face in my chest, she groans when her boss approaches her desk. “Miss Parker, is there a problem here?” I turn, with a deliberate smirk towards the man, with whom I am very familiar.

“Hey Dex, how’re doing?”

“Max! I’ll be damned.” He nods in the direction of Liz, who has yet to look up, and I shrug my shoulder. Shaking his head, he asks if we could join him in his office. I reach down and take Liz’s hand.

“I’m so getting fired for this Max!” she hisses as we make our way back to a secluded part of the office, away from prying eyes, to the CEO and one of my best friends’ offices.

“You better find me a nice cushy job at your office, because I will not be getting unemployment!” She grits out, squeezing my hand harshly. And while I should be reassuring her, I pull her back to me and spin her, and then because she looks so sexy right now I lean down and kiss her lips.

It earns me a smack on the chest, but it didn’t hurt and it was well worth it. She lets go of my hand and stomps into Dexter’s office.

After the door is closed, Liz jumps into her apology. “Mr. Nichols, I am so sorry for my boyfriends antics. I didn’t mean to disrupt the office, but I wasn’t expecting him and I haven’t seen him in months, it was just totally spontaneous!” Liz rushes out, and while I lean back in my chair and take in her outfit, Dexter sits sternly behind his desk, looking indifferent.

Two things come to mind, besides the glaring fact that Liz just called me her boyfriend, she’s really convincing and you’d have to have a heart of ice in order to not believe or feel for her. It’s not her fault that her boyfriend barged in, swooped her up out of her chair and kissed her breathless. If I were her boss I’d forgive her. I try to hide my smile, while watching as she paces in front of Dexter’s desk.

Secondly, she’s wearing a maroon shirt-dress, as Isabel calls them. It really looks like a man’s shirt, except for the fact that she has a black satin belt looped around her waist, and matching black heels. Her baby bump is much bigger, but she’s still so small that it’s not so noticeable (my mother says she’ll sprout out any day now). Her legs look great, shapely, creamy, and damn, I’m half-hard just thinking about her legs and where I could be putting them on me.

“I had no idea he would be coming home so soon…”

Dexter cuts her off, looking serious and I try my hardest to not crack a smile. “So Miss Parker, what you’re saying is that you haven’t seen your boyfriend in…months?” he says casually with a wave of his hand, and Liz simply nods.

“Hmm…” he pauses and then looks at me.

“So Max, how have you been?”

“Pretty good actually. How was the honeymoon?” I ask. He and his wife Stacey were just married last month. I was his best man.

He smiles, his white teeth showing, “Great. A month wasn’t long enough. I told Stacey that we should’ve stayed longer.” I nod, smiling at the thought of his very petite wife, and her long blonde hair, hazel-green eyes, and infectious spirit.

“So, how do you know Miss Parker?” he asks, folding his hands on top of one other on his desk. And as if she doesn’t like being ignored Liz steps between the desk and my chair to glare down at me.

“You know him?”

“I do.”

“How?”

“Dex and I met in high school, been friends ever since, and I was his best man at his wedding.”

“What? Wait, didn’t your mom mention ‘Dex’ once when we were at dinner?” she turns and looks to Dexter, then back to me. I confirm it with a nod of my head. She’s very attentive.

“I don’t believe it. You had me thinking that…I should have known something was up when you both greeted each other, but I was just so embarrassed.” I reach out and pull Liz towards the chair beside me.

“I’m sorry, Liz.”

“We both are,” Dexter adds.

“So, I’m not fired?” She looks to Dex who tilts his head back in a hearty laugh.

“No. But Max, no more kissing on the job.” I salute him.

“How long you been dating?” he asks me. And I turn to Liz, and she shrugs.

Dexter looks between the two of us and says, “Liz, would you mind excusing us for a little while? I haven’t seen Max since the wedding and we have some catching up to do.” Liz stands, straightens her already immaculate clothes and turns to leave.

“Liz?” I call out.

“Yes?”

“Don’t make plans for lunch,” I grin at her, as she narrows her eyes and stomps out of the office.

“She’s a feisty one,” Dexter says offhandedly.

I stare at the closed door and shake my head. “Yeah. Funny thing is, I only just met her.”

“I figured as much, since you sure as hell didn’t tell me you were dating anyone. What gives?”

“You got a few minutes for me to go through the details of the last few weeks?” Dexter is my best friend, aside from Michael. Dexter is rooted deeply in family, as is his wife. I’ve been there for every twist and turn of their relationship, and he’s been there during my rollercoaster ride of a marriage and divorce. Liz probably didn’t know that we knew each other since Dexter is not the main person she reports to. Dexter is at the top, but it seems that Rick is on vacation this week.

“For you, Max. I’ve got all the time in the world.” He smiles and I lean in and proceed to bring him up to speed on the last few weeks of my life.

“Damn,” he says for the third time. He’s pacing now. And I can’t help but agree with him there. Even if he can’t offer me advice, at least it will be entertaining scheming up plans for Liz with him.

Who says a guy can’t get his rocks off, by making a girl sweat? Especially when she’s so sexy when she’s pissed off.

TBC…

A/N - Sorry, a day late, had a party last night *lol*

Thank you so much for the feedback, and here is the last completed part (sort of), I hope you enjoy and I'll be back soon!

I also have to take a moment and say a special thank you to La'Shon, for without whom I would not have updates for you. Because while I enjoy writing more than I can say, sometimes RL drags me down, but she is my cheerleader on the sidelines telling me to keep going because I do love it. Love you!

*waves* to the new readers, hello so the current and well...basically the character I was referring to, was Dexter and he is stable and is in a good marriage, maybe Max will follow the lead...or maybe he won't!

And now some answers from Liz...and your 'longer' part

*hugs*

Tanya


Chapter Sixteen


<center>The joy…of dating</center>


“When do I get to see your place?” Liz asks, while rummaging through her closet for a jacket. “Later, if you’re lucky,” I say, as I take in her wardrobe. While she has nice looking work clothes, her other casual clothes have been looking a little warn for wear (except for those great short, summer dresses, of course).

I don’t say anything, because Isabel has told me that a guy should never comment on a woman’s clothing unless he’s going to say something flattering. Apparently women know when they need new clothes, but for obvious reasons they don’t have them.

Still, it irks my ass for some reason. She’s going to need maternity clothes soon, no? I’m not sure, she’s still small, but we have a doctor’s appointment in less than an hour, maybe I’ll get a better peek then.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Liz turns and offers me a smile, that’s when I finally get a better look of her. She’s grown in the last week. I’ve been so busy at work, we’ve got a major launch in a week, we are confident that we will oversell last year’s record breaking numbers, but it’s time consuming and I have today off to spend with Liz.

“Wow, the baby is really growing,” I say, reaching out my hand and resting it on her stomach. I must have a look of hope on my face, because Liz reaches down, placing her hand over mine and says, “It will happen again. He wants to wait for the right moment.” I offer her a weak smile by anyone’s standards. I can’t help but feel disappointed that I haven’t felt the baby move yet.

“So you think it’s a boy?” I smirk, and she swats me away. She’s been back and forth about it. One day she’ll say it’s a girl, the next a boy.

“I’m getting big, fast,” she mutters as we disengage.

“You’re not big. You’re pregnant. There’s a difference.” I say sliding my arm around her shoulder and ushering her out the door.

She stops, and says, “Max, look at my shirt.” I do, and then I look back at her. “It’s too small. I’m getting big!” I am wholeheartedly unprepared for what to say to a pregnant woman. I’ve been pretty lucky with Liz up to this point; her hormones have not kicked into gear. Now though, it seems they are rearing their ugly head.

Instead of trying to find the right words, which will come out wrong anyway, I lean down and kiss the tip of her nose. “We have to go, or we’ll be late.” I tug her along gently and out of the house.

“So, you’ve been really busy. Alex says the game is set to launch in a week.” I smile at the fact that she tries to keep up with the business. It shows she’s interested in knowing, and that means a lot to me.

“I know. I’m sorry, Liz. Once we’re done, the game will speak for itself. I mean we have several coming out the rest of the year, but this is our big one. Alone, the sale of that one title makes exceeds our profits by half, add to that our other releases and we come out on top again this year. It’s not easy, and it takes a lot of time and money, but in the end it’s worth it.” She looks at me intently; almost a stare and I ask her what’s on her mind.

“Nothing,” she says, looking out her window and then says, “I’m just really proud of you. I mean, of Alex too. It’s so great that he gets to do what he loves, and finally getting the recognition he deserves. But—,” she trails off, as I pull up to a red light.

“What?” I turn my head to regard her fully.

Liz lets out a long sigh, and then finally turns to face me. “Max, what are we doing?” I crease my brows in confusion.

“Us? What are we doing?”

“Liz—”

“You know what? Never mind. We’ll talk about it after the doctor’s appointment,” she rushes out and I attempt once more to tell her what’s on my mind, but she asks me to please wait until later.

So I do.


<center>****</center>


Once we are alone in the room together, I watch Liz as she watches the monitor. I’m not sure what she’s looking for, but I know that ever since I asked the doctor to give us a moment, she hasn’t said a word.

“Liz, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want.”

She shakes her head, and says, “No, I want to know.” I don’t believe her at all. Maybe that’s because she’s not looking me in the eye.

I reach out and take her hand and say, “I want to wait.” I voice the one thing I’m sure she she’s feeling. She doesn’t want to know the sex of the baby, not now. A part of me has to agree. I don’t want to know either. At first I thought I did, but honestly, the thought of waiting until the baby is born is more appealing to me.

Liz lets out another sigh, of what I can only describe as relief, and then turns to look at me. Her eyes aren’t brimming with tears, but she looks damn near close to having that happen.

“I always thought, when the time came, I would want to know. Then again, I always pictured my life differently. I thought I’d be married, thought I’d have a house with a room that was ready to be decorated, as the nursery. None of that is the case in this instance. And while a part of me wants to know, another part of me wants the surprise. Wants to wait until the moment the doctor places the baby on my chest.” She stops and looks beyond my shoulder, and I turn my head slightly to see the doctor has once again joined us.

Giving Liz as reassuring smile, I tell the doctor we want to wait until the birth. She smiles and continues on with the exam. I haven’t felt the baby move yet, it seems that every time I go to feel it, the baby stops.

“I’m beginning to grow a complex,” I joke, but half mean it. Liz laughs, as does the doctor. “You know Max, it’s perfectly normal for you to have still not felt the baby kick. Liz is technically with the baby twenty-four hours a day, she has an unfathomable probability over you, to feel the baby.”

I shrug. Yes, I know all of this, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.

“Thanks for being here, Max.” Liz says as we step out onto the sidewalk and make our way towards my car. I’m not sure what it is, but something about her thanking me for doing what I would without a doubt, seems really odd. I don’t like it. I don’t appreciate it, and damn it, it pisses me off.

I stop right before opening the door for her, turn and stare her right in the eyes and say, “I’m really getting tired of you saying that.”

“What?” she asks, looking perplexed.

I lean against the door, cross my arms over my chest and look away for a minute. What is it that’s bothering me today?

“Why is it I get the feeling you still aren’t sure if I’m going to go through this with you?”

“I didn’t say that,” she defends, getting visibly upset.

“You didn’t have to. Liz, every time we do anything together, particularly when it has to do with the baby, I get this feeling that you think I’m going to change my mind or something.”

She shakes her head, opens her mouth to say something, but stalls out. Not one word. So she doesn’t deny it, but she doesn’t confirm it either. Where does that leave me, I wonder.

“This is my thing, you don’t say anything to me about…well…anything. I’m really tired, Liz. Just tired of feeling like this person that’s standing outside, looking in. I am trying to be a part of this,” I signal my hand between her and I, but she doesn’t even blink. She doesn’t even move. And I wonder what the hell is going on in her mind, yet again.

I really should be used to it, but I’m not. I’m not comforted by her silence, not in the least.

After a minute, she squints her eyes and turns her head to the side. She watches the passerby’s, and then shakes her head. Without looking at me, she steps closer.

“When I was sixteen, I realized that my life was going to be different than the life I created in my mind, from when I was a little girl. My parents weren’t coming back home; they weren’t going to suddenly realize that they love me enough to come back. So I decided it was time to stop living in that past, in a future that no matter how much I wanted; I couldn’t create. I decided, that Alex was enough, because he is. I decided that I would settle for whatever came my way. I never finished school because, I was scared to get to the end and still not know what I want to do with my life. I never fell in love with anyone, not really, before Danny. Then I settled again,” she pauses, her voice clogged with tears and a part of me wants to stop her. But the other part of me, the part that needs to understand her, to figure out where she’s at, to figure out if there can be a future for us, and if that includes us being together or not, yearns to hear it.

Liz moves beside me, resting on the door with me, and wraps her arms around herself, never looking at me, but continues to speak.

“Danny, was good looking, smart, and had a great perspective on life. I wanted to soak that up. He was everything I thought I needed in my life to be happy. So I settled. I settled for the fact that I knew deep down he may have loved me, but he wasn’t in love with me, not really. I think he thought he was too, and I didn’t dare say anything, because that would jeopardize my world.”

I take this opportunity so say something, “Appearance means a lot to you.” She nods, but doesn’t say a word.

“Liz, why was it important for you to be with Danny? Why not someone else?”

She lets out a huff-laugh, and then says, “I was trying to figure out my life, and he came along and I realized, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. He had a career, he had a house, and he had family. I thought ‘this is what I need in my life’. If I stick with him, he’ll help me, he’ll show me the way.”

“And did he?” I ask, because I can understand where she’s coming from. Liz didn’t have a normal upbringing, and somewhere between her father leaving, and her mother leaving, she got lost in the shuffle. I may not have been through the situation, but I can understand the concept. My marriage got lost in the shuffle.

“No. He didn’t. He couldn’t give me the things I needed, because I didn’t know, I still don’t know what I need. I realized too late, I was trying to make Danny understand me, but he couldn’t possibly. He was so much older than me; he didn’t want kids with me. He said it would be a mistake, a regret I would have, and he didn’t want to be that,” she laughs self-depreciatingly. I turn to my side to face her. I ache to touch her.

I want to ask her, if she regrets it now. If she regrets trying to have his baby, and ending up with mine instead. “Liz—”

She shakes her head, “No, Max. I don’t regret this baby, ever. And if I was honest with myself, I’m relieved it’s not his.”

“You don’t have to say that,” I say, my voice sounding unfamiliar and filled with too many emotions to name.

“I know I don’t. Max, you remember that day in the doctors office, when I fainted?” I nod. She takes in a deep breath, and locks eyes with me.

“I’m not going to lie and say that I wasn’t shocked. I was hurt, because I had convinced myself that what I was missing in my life was Danny, I didn’t know how to be without him. We weren’t together long yet my every action had everything to do with him. And the day I made the decision to have a baby, his baby, even though I knew he only made it possible because I guilt-tripped him into it; was a year after he died. I felt angry, so angry with him for leaving me, even though it wasn’t his fault. With Danny, I didn’t have to decide anything. He made all the decisions…and that was wrong. So when I fainted, not all of it, but mainly, it had to do with my relief. I would have to let him go. That didn’t mean I didn’t want my baby, Max. I do. I always did. But the pressure of having Danny’s baby didn’t hit me until after I found out I was pregnant. And then that day, in that room, I saw you when I opened my eyes, and they are really…great eyes. Caring and understanding, and I’m not used to you, I wasn’t ready for you.” Tears stream down her cheeks, and I lean closer, wrap my arms around her and press her closer.

“Thank you, Liz.” I say, with tears in my eyes, and while I should be wary about my public display of affection, I can’t get over Liz’s words. All this time I was resenting her for wanting the baby to be his, when all this time, she was happy it was mine.

Alex was right. Liz is happy that it’s mine. I’ve been fighting her for it, almost like stamping my territory, when all along…she was glad it was me and not him.

A bubble of laughter shoots to my ears, and I look down into her upturned face. “What are you thanking me for?”

I reach out a hand and push a piece of hair away from her face. I search her eyes, and realize that look that Liz gives me, every time she looks at me, means something. All this time I was waiting for her to say something, to tell me, and I realize that Isabel was right. Liz can’t give me something that’s broken, some piece of her that she may not ever get back.

And that’s okay. Because I have enough in me, to give to her, and when she’s ready, I’ll be right here. Because I’m ready to stop being selfish, I’m ready to show Liz that she’s not the only one to lose something here.

“For telling me, that I’m good enough.”

“Max, I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way. It’s just so…I…” I smile at her right before I lean in and kiss her soft lips. I caress her with a tenderness I didn’t know I was capable of, and when I feel her body melt under my fingertips, I pull away.

“Max—”

“Liz, I wanted to ask you something.”

“O-okay.”

“How would you feel about going on a date with me tonight? I’ll pick you up around seven.” She freezes, stares at me for a minute, but I don’t dare move. Finally, she blinks, offers me a crooked smile, and says, “I would love that.”

And I realize, that taking a break from Liz was the worst thing I could have done. But since I’m a guy, and I knew no better, I’m giving myself a pass on feeling bad about it.

Now of course if I mess things up, after this, I’ll have a bone to pick…with myself.


<center>****</center>


“So, she’s your girlfriend now? I think that’s great,” Michael says as he dribbles the ball down the court.

The sun is setting, and I’ve got about two hours before I have to pick Liz up for our date. I’m not sure why, and this has never happened before, but I feel eagerness to see her. I feel like this afternoon, something between us changed.

For the better.

Finally.

“Not exactly. I mean, we made some real progress, and we are going on a date. But seeing as I’m not with anyone, and neither is she, and I spend a lot of my free time with her, I guess you could say that.” I smile at the thought.

“I’m happy for you, Max. Really. You’re going to have a kid with her; you should be getting along with her.”

I decide to switch gears for a minute. “I told Serena about the baby.” He stops running and whips around to look at me.

“You did what?”

“I told—”

“No, I heard you. What were you thinking? Were you trying to hurt her?” He looks pissed, but I can’t honestly imagine why.

“Do you have a problem with that?” I ask, and he drops the ball and walks over to me.

“It’s your life. But I don’t get it, why hurt her?”

“You think I would do that on purpose? She had a right to know, either way.” I defend my actions, as I narrow my gaze, getting a little bit angry myself, at him.

“Obviously that was what you were going for.”

“How the hell would you know? Michael, I’m not going to argue with you about my private life and my decisions. So what gives? Why are you picking a fight with me over this?” I ask and he drops his gaze to a point beyond my shoulder. Never once has he picked a fight with me over my relationships, or lack there of. His mood swings are getting more frequent and I have to wonder if maybe Maria told him about leaving.

“I’m not picking a fight. I just don’t understand why you would tell her.”

“Because I thought, if I keep it to myself and it comes out later, somehow, then she’d be more hurt that I didn’t. It was the lesser of two evils. Besides, she’s with Greg, and I couldn’t be happier for her. She deserves it after the marriage I gave her,” I say, shaking my head in thought.

While I know I wasn’t a horrible husband, I was more her best friend. I think that was the problem from the beginning. I was so comfortable with Serena. She just went along with everything. We were married for eight years and out of them, I think we spent four of them together in total.

“You were young, Max.” I smile, as he defends me. He always defends me, if I veer down the road of self-loathe (which is seldom, for me). I try not to dwell on the things I can’t change.

I should amend, I didn’t use to dwell before Liz came along. Now all I do is dwell about my feelings for her, her feelings for Dean, Dean’s feelings for her, Danny and well just about anything else in between that.

“We were young, but we thought ‘we’re in love and that’s all that matters’. Surely you remember what that feels like.” I smirk, throwing out a punch to his right arm.

“Yeah…I guess.”

“You guess? It wasn’t so long ago that you and Maria were together and—”

“We were talking about you,” he effectively cuts me off. I eye him carefully; there is something extra tense about him today. I ask if anything is bothering him.

“No. I’m good.” Just what I thought, something is really on his mind. He never answers my questions like that, normally it’s, ‘Max, I’ll tell you when I feel like it.’

“Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” I try and persuade him, snatching the ball from near his feet, and walking over to the bench on the opposite side. He follows me, slides down on the bench and leans forward resting his elbows on his knees. He doesn’t say a word, so I wait, patiently.

“I know what you mean about being young. When I met Maria, I wasn’t as young as you and Serena, but I was immature. Maria just blew in, and I never felt that caught up in a girl before, never. She made me happy, so damn happy, and so furious all at the same time.” I listen intently, Michael and I have a really open and honest friendship, and we’re brothers but friends first. I want to help him get over this funk he’s been in, for the last four years. Personally I know it has everything to do with Maria, but there was a part of him that never felt ready to tell me why he walked away, not the real reason. I never pushed, because Michael is not like me.

Pushing me will eventually get you the answer you’re looking for. Pushing Michael simply pushes him away. It’s that simple.

“She was the first girl that made me think of forever. She made me question all those years I wasted on all those other girls. I wasn’t her ticket out of this town, poetically speaking,” he pauses, gives me a look that says, ‘if you repeat a word of this, I may just disown you,’ I nod without a word.

He runs a hand through is sandy-brown hair, disheveling it a bit more than it normally is, and tips his head towards the sky. “Damn, I wish I didn’t miss her. It would be so much easier to forget her. I still see her, you know. I still see her, I make it a point to make sure I see her once a week.”

I take his long pause, as a signal for me to jump in. So I ask, “Are you doing it because you want to see her, or because of something else?”

Michael lets out a short laugh, and says, “I want it to bother her to see me. I’m an ass, right?” I slap him on the back, and tell him that’s exactly what he is.

“You talk about me hurting Serena, you know if she knew half the shit you said and did to Maria, you’d already have a nice headstone picked out right?”

“Fuck! I know, but you don’t understand what it was like for me, with her.”

I lean back, lifting the ball from my lap and spin it up my palm to the tip of my finger. Michael and I learned to do that when we were younger, it was important that we could mimic everything our father could.

“What was it like? Cause I gotta say, Maria is pretty easy to get along with. And while she has her quirks, she’s got a great heart. So tell me something I don’t know.”

He stands abruptly, pacing back and forth in front of me. I stop my ball play, and let it fall to the ground.

“That’s just it. There isn’t a bad bone in her body, Max. Not one. I could be a dick to her, and while she’d fight back, she still loved me anyway. I was moody with her, if I was missing a game to stop by one of the stores to pick up a scarf or skirt, whatever, the hell she needed. But she just told me to grow up, and get over it, and she always…always recorded the damn thing for me. I always bitched, but I knew she was recording it anyway. Yet, she put up with me. I forgot our ‘dating’ anniversary, I felt like a heel, but she forgave me. She told me, she knew I was busy and I tried to make it up to her. That’s what it was. She gave. I took. That wasn’t fair to her.”

“You are selfish.” I note, and wait for him to turn on me. Because while I don’t think Michael is selfish, he is a bit immature, at least he was, until he broke things off with Maria. Something changed after that in him. Changed for the better.

“Fuck you, man. You just like to ride that wave. I loved her.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“I did! It just wasn’t enough.”

“For her?” I quirk my eyebrow up at him, this is like pulling teeth, without Novocain.

He shakes his head, “For me.”

“Michael, what are you saying? Don’t tell me you loved her, but thought…”

“It wasn’t enough. Did you hear anything I just said?” He turns on me, sweat forming on his brows and a deep crease etched on his forehead.

“I heard you, but I gotta be honest, you’re not making much sense. Spell it out for me.”

“Maria, wears designer clothes, sunglasses, gets a manicure and pedicure every two weeks, her hair is always done and I walk around in a pair of jeans I’ve owned since I was eighteen and a T-shirt with some faded picture on the front. How could she even think she was in love with me? I think it was the bad boy imagine I was toting around for awhile.” I scoff at the idea that’s just run through my head. Michael couldn’t be so stupid as to think that Maria gave a shit about what he wore…could he?

“Damn, Michael. Tell me you didn’t…God…tell me you didn’t break up with her because you thought you weren’t good enough?” I somehow manage to scoot to the edge of the bench, not wanting to stand and pressure him, but wanting an answer.

“Max—let it go,” he grinds out, and now I stand.

“All this time, you’re trying to give me advice, and you walked away from her because of this stupid shit?” I accuse, and reach out to his shoulder, forcing him to look at me.

“Sorry, this is worth repeating, but, fuck! I know I messed up, but Max it’s so much more complicated than that. When you said I was immature, you have no idea, what I did.”

I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms, prepared to stand here all day until I hear it all.

Unfortunately, the sky decided it wanted to open up and rain down on us. While I was prepared to stand there all afternoon and wait, he wasn’t. He took off in a run, and when we reached our cars, he was already making excuses about needing to meet Kyle.

“This conversation isn’t over, Michael,” I warn him, and he mumbles out an, “I know,’ before closing his door and driving away.

I wish I had more time with him, but I realize looking down at my watch, I’ve got about forty-five minutes to shower and get ready for my date with Liz.

I can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of my lips; it’s our first official date.


<center>****</center>


“Max, are you sure you don’t mind,” she practically groans out, miserably.

I arrived at her place a few minutes ago, only to find her dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, saying it was the only thing that fit her. They were her ‘fat’ jeans, whatever that means.

I laugh, as I run a hand through her hair. I never realized how much I enjoy touching her, but tonight, everything with her feels different. Maybe it’s because she opened up to me, and allowed me a bigger piece of her picture. Well…that and the fact that she smells amazing, like baby power and flowers, sweet if you will. When she swung open the door, a smile was plastered across her face, and her eyes were dancing. I can’t lie; it boosted my ego a bit (alright, a lot, but that’s my secret).

I enjoy, holding her, wrapping my arms around her waist. She just feels, right.

“I thought we’d swing by my place, give you the tour, have dinner and see from there. How does that sound?” I ask, because if she was expecting more, I’d be more than happy to oblige.

“It sounds great. Let me just get my jacket.” She pulls away, and I tug her back, place a kiss on her lips, lean my head against hers, and smile. “Hi,” I whisper. She smiles shyly, and whispers back, just as soft, “Hi.”

I let her go. But a barrel of ignited gunpowder couldn’t knock the smile off my face. I find myself doing that a lot; smiling. I feel like a sap, but with Liz, it feels natural.

I like it. I don’t have to put up false pretenses with her. I’m just me, and that’s okay with her.

“What are you thinking about,” she asks as I close the door behind us, making our way to my car.

“Just that, it’s been a long time that I’ve gone out on a date and not have had to worry about what we’re eating or doing for that matter. But don’t get me wrong, soon, I’ll be taking you out on the town.”

“But I’m pregnant,” she says quickly, almost as if that explains why she can’t go.

“So? Liz, pregnant or not, I’m taking you. Deal with it,” I say, helping her inside.

When I’m in the car with her, she looks around the inside and says, “Just how many cars do you have?” I shrug my shoulders, and tell her only four.

We’re in the car for not longer than two minutes before she steers the conversation back to where I left off, can’t say that I’m not surprised.

“Were you’re other…dates less accommodating?” she asks, sounding really uncomfortable. That is an endearing thing; she might be shy, but she will still ask the question. A lot like Alex, I think. Nothing about her is faked or premeditated, just like Isabel described Alex.

Before I answer her question, I wanted to straighten something out with her. “Liz, you should know it’s been months since I’ve been on a date. I don’t want you thinking that I’m dating you and someone else, because I would never do that. I might not have a shiny background, but I would never degrade a woman like that, ever.” I vow sincerely, and she reaches out a hand to me, removing it from the steering wheel, and clasping it in both of hers.

“I wouldn’t peg you for that kind of guy, Max. I’m just not a real good judge of character, when I li— I mean when I am getting to know someone. Please don’t think that’s why I asked,” she quickly recovers from you slip up. Don’t think I didn’t notice, because I did. It was clear, what she was going to say was ‘like’. I try and keep my features neutral.

“I know you didn’t mean it that way. But to answer your other question, yes, my other dates wanted the fancy restaurant, dancing, extravagance and then when the night was over…” I realized I just lead myself down the wrong path. I do not want to discuss having sex with women after my date because I have no intention of having sex with Liz anytime soon.

Not that sex wouldn’t be nice, more than that, but that’s beside the point. I’m not ready, and I’m sure she’s not either.

“Sex?” she says, with confidence, although her body language says anything but.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.” I feel embarrassed, boy how the tables have turned.

“That’s okay. Max, you’re a good looking, single guy, if you told me otherwise, I’d have to wonder.”

I whip my head to the side quickly, before returning my attention to the road. “Wonder, what?”

“That, you were…ruined by your divorce, or marriage or…never mind.”

“Oh, no please, continue.” I wave my hand in the air, waiting for her to elaborate.

“I’m just saying, I was watching this show—”


“What show?” I interrupt, just because it’s fun to watch, as her lips get pouty as she is forced to tell me everything.

“Oprah. Now, back to what I was saying. She did an interview with men who didn’t have sex since their divorce. They felt inadequate with themselves, and they felt this pressure to…you know…perform…and it caused them to have…issues…” she mutters out, and I can’t help but choke back a laugh.

“You’re not serious,” I say incredulously, and she nods her head.

“Max, it happens. I mean they said they tried to…you know…”

“Have sex?” I coax, and she just nods.

“Say it,” I taunt.

“No. You know what I mean.”

“Say it,” I sing.

“Fine! Sex! Okay, are you happy? Sex. Sex. Sex!” she puffs out a breath of air, and it fans her bangs away from her face.

I smile triumphantly. “I’m very happy, please…continue.” I turn down my street, and flick on my headlights, the sun is setting pretty early nowadays.

“So they basically, couldn’t have sex, with anyone other than their ex-wives.”

I choke, not in laughter, that’s for damn sure. Luckily, I made it to the driveway before she said that.

I pull up, and into the garage before killing the ignition, and then I turn to face her.

“Liz, another thing I should assure you of. I don’t have those kinds of feelings for Serena. I haven’t had them in a long…long time. And you can trust me when I tell you I have no performance issues.” I say seriously and watch as her eyes drop. She rolls her hands over in her lap, palms up and says, “Oh good.”

“Good?”

“Well, not good for me, just good…for you. I mean when you are with someone, that you can…”

“Perform?” I bite the inside of my lip to keep from bursting out laughing.

“Right! Not that, I was thinking about your performance or anything like that,” she rushes on, a crimson blush rising on her cheeks. Damn, if she doesn’t turn me on with her innocence.

That’s what it is. Pure innocence. I recognize it, very easily on her.

Ironic for a woman who is pregnant, but seeing as how that happened, it makes perfect sense.

“You weren’t?” I question, my eyes glinting with mirth.

“No! I wasn’t. I don’t think about you like that,” she says, sneaking a look up at me.

“Oh,” I say, trying to sound disappointed, which I would normally be, except that I can read her really well for this. Not a bad thing at all to be able to do. Her wanting me is not something she can hide, and I’m thankful for that.

She groans and throws her head back against the seat. “Max, that’s not what I meant. You’re a good-looking guy, sexy even, you know that already though. What I meant was, well I don’t know what I meant, or why the conversation is suddenly about sex. I think we should go inside now,” she mutters out, already opening the door and practically jumping out before I have a chance to utter another word.

I let her get away with it.

I’ve had my fun, for now.


TBC…

A/N – I’M BACK! Okay well rather than make this an extremely long note, we’ll just say that I started November out strong, then RL and SEVERAL issues came about that made it impossible for me to sit for a few minutes at a time and write anything. I won’t dwell on it, however I will say that with Christmas coming I can’t say how often I’ll update (because I am working on several things I’m trying to get in a position to post), but just know 100% there will be an update next Saturday.

With that, thank you for your patience and here is some feedback to your feedback! Thank you so much!

Tanya

FSU/MSW-94 – As always thank you for always listening to me rant on, and on…and on about where to go with this, and all the other stories stuck in my head and for always thinking I “can” do it, even if I’m not even sure! Love you!
LairaBehr4 – Here’s to hoping more parts come sooner rather than later, no? LOL
carolina_moon – I have to agree, Michael is a little slow, maybe he’ll come around with some help – Thanks!
Tamashii – I guess the key factor here with Michael is – When will he find out about Maria? – Thanks!
Natalie36 – Thank you!
begonia9508 – Again, we question where Michael is coming from—soon we’ll know. Thanks!
Aurorabee – haha!! Thanks!
anonymousarfan – Thank you!
Alien_Friend – Glad to hear how much you are enjoying it! Thank you!
roswell3053 – Thanks!!
kay_b – Yes, there are some Michael Guerin’s in the world—but maybe Michael isn’t all he’s cracked up to be, maybe he has his own story—and what of Maria, what is her story? Thanks!
Synera – Hi – Thanks! Hope you continue to enjoy!
Ultimatepickupline – Thanks and enjoy!
Ellie – Hey girlfriend, as yes, as others you wonder what is it that makes up Michael’s character—it’s coming, that is all I will say. Thanks!
Smac – Girlie, thank you and I have returned – not gone for too long, I hope! Thanks!
Cereth – Damn but if you don’t crack me up with your feedback! The fact that you were “squirming in your seat” let’s me know I’m doing ‘something’ right! Thanks!
Brook – Hi – And yes, Michael needs to get it together before its too late – or maybe he needs it to be too late to finally figure out what in the hell he’s doing – Thanks!
Clueless – Thank you!
moneecue82 – Hi, welcome and thank you! I hope you continue to enjoy!
Lurkers – If after the long list above there are any, I too hope you enjoy! And as always thank you for reading.

Here we go…



Chapter Seventeen

<center>Boyfriend meets Girlfriend</center>


I watch her closely. She hasn’t said a word and we’ve already been through the first half of the tour.

“I’m remodeling the second floor, to make room for…” I stop speaking when she shakes her head and turns to me.

“This house is amazing, just the way it is. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as spectacular as it before,” she says, her eyes wide and gleaming. “I think we could fit ten of me and Alex’s apartment into the family and dining room.”

I laugh, as I reach out and grab her hand leading her upstairs. We’ve already been through the kitchen, which Liz thought was enormous and fell in love with. There was something about her enthusiasm, her acceptance, which made me feel proud of my accomplishments.

Proud, just like she’d let slip in the car before. She’s proud of me, and that makes me happier than I can comprehend right now.

“Let’s go upstairs. You’re going to see what needs to be changed.” I usher her up the winding staircase up to the second floor, which consists of the master bedroom, game room, twenty-seat movie theater, a bar, my office, a library and some additional guest rooms.

Once we reach the landing, I place my hand on the small of her back and lead her through the first set of doors on the right. “The game room is through here, complete with a fully stocked bar, Michael said I had to have the bar. He likes to play pool and hated when he had to venture downstairs for a beer,” I ramble on. I haven’t a clue as to why I’m rambling, it’s not like me but Liz has yet to utter a word; that must be it.

Her shoulders begin to shake, and she pauses just inside the door, right before reaching the pool table. “You know Max, I don’t think I’ve seen or heard you this unsure of yourself since I’ve met you.” She smiles, and twirls, literally twirls, around the table and picks up one of the balls.

I narrow my gaze, and try to act unruffled, when I feel anything but. Who would have thought that I would feel my most vulnerable, most insecure, with Liz standing in my house? I wonder what her thoughts are.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, stepping into the room, standing away from her. I watch in silence as she rolls the yellow colored ball between her hands and walks around the room, eyeing the pictures hanging around the room.

She ignores my last statement, “Are these all your friends?” Liz turns her head, tipping her chin over her shoulder to regard me. I nod.

“What other rooms are there to see?” I step back, and turn heading out the door and back down the hall to the theater. She follows, placing the ball back on the table.

“I bet you have lots of long nights in here,” she says, brushing past me to enter the twenty-seat theater. The recliners are sold black, the couches in the front are a deep red color, and the rug is deep beige. A stainless steel fridge sits in the back of the room, along with a sink, and matching steel cabinets, which are fully stocked. And finally a theater could not be complete without a full sized popcorn maker.

“Where are the movies?” she asks, sinking into one of the recliners and tilting it back like a seasoned pro.

I smile, and move to the wall to my left, flip open the control panel. I push all four buttons and a soft click resounds around the room, then the walls on both sides of us slide open, revealing the movie collection.

“Wow! That’s really impressive!” Liz says, as she jumps (if one could call it jumping, being pregnant and all) to her feet to scan the selections.

I can’t help but follow her perfectly shaped bottom around the room, suddenly it feels hotter than before and I realize I need to get myself under control. Liz would not appreciate these thoughts of her, or the fact that the sigh she gave out when she sat down, sent shivers up my spine.

I lock my jaw and enjoy her being so relaxed, and then she surprises me.

“You know Max, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to get in my pants.” I choke.

I fumble for words, while pressing my back against the wall. However, when I finally regain a normal sense of breathing I realize she’s sitting on the arm of one of the couches, laughing.

“Oh, you should have seen the look on your face!” she sputters out, while holding her rounding stomach.

“Oh, I think I have to potty now.” She takes a deep breath and comes to stand in front of me, her eyes still shining with amusement.

“Who says that?” I ask, none to happy with her enjoyment of my situation. Since when does she joke about things like that?

“I do. And if you don’t show me where the bathroom is, I will be using this really nice carpet,” she says, tapping my nose with her index finger and then strides out of the room.

I shake my head in confusion.

What the hell happened to Liz?


<center>****</center>


“Better?” I ask, as she steps out of my bathroom. I could have had her use the one in the theater, but I wanted her to see my bedroom, and what easier way was there, then for me to let her use my bathroom?

Thankfully, I thought ahead and had my maid come in this morning to get things in order.

“Yes, thanks.” Again, she takes in her surroundings, from the vaulted ceilings, the covered skylights, the two French doors that open to the patio and the fireplace across the other side of the room.

“You have a fireplace in your room? And what was that in the bathroom, a waterfall or something for a shower? I couldn’t figure it out with my quick look,” she says, blushing a little.

“So you were snooping?”

“No, you had me use the bathroom, I couldn’t help but look.” I watch her, as she walks over to the fireplace, then over to the chaise, takes a seat, and then tilts her head all the way back.

“This must be a magnificent view, when you have them opened,” she comments, pointing towards the closed skylights.

“Yes, but the best view is from atop the bed,” I interject, covertly. It’s my turn to make her uncomfortable.

Liz’s head snaps to mine and she sticks out her finger to me, shaking it back and forth, all the while the deep crimson blush continues to tinge her cheeks, making me smile.

“Why don’t you take a look outside?” I motion for her to open the two French doors and step outside. She does, and pops her head back in so unexpectedly, that I jump a little. “I think your house is beautiful, but Max this view is breathtaking.” That’s all she says, as she continues to take in the night sky, and I try and figure out how to bring the subject up that I need to discuss with her.

She’s more relaxed than I’ve ever seen, and I’d hate to change her demeanor by bringing up things we truly need to discuss.

After a few minutes, she steps back inside, closing the doors behind her, and asking me what’s behind the double doors near the entrance of the bathroom. I reach out for her hand, and we walk over to my walk-in closet.

“Oh man, forget I asked. I could live in here, quite comfortably,” she quips lightly, and then takes the initiative to lead herself inside. She takes in the rows of suits, and jeans and shirts, and then stops and turns back to me. “You do only wear dark colored suits,” she comments.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Nothing, its just you know what looks good on you.”

“So you think I look good in my suits?” Interesting.

“Definitely,” she mumbles so low I almost miss it. Almost.

After she takes a good look, she walks past me, and drags me into the bathroom and insists that I show her how the shower works.

“You know Max,” she says casually making her way to the bed. I try to keep my heart rate steady, and my palms from sweating. I can’t help but watch her intently, as she runs her fingertips across the cherry wood footboard.

“What’s that Liz?” I say, crossing the room and standing close to her. The scent of her is driving me crazy. The fun flirtatious mood she’s in is also doing something to me. It’s not like her, at least not the her I’ve known up until this point.

“As nice as your house is, as intimidating as it looks from outside…inside it’s the exact opposite.”

I crease my brows in confusion; she can obviously read it because she continues. With yet another twirl, she manages to settle against the side of the mattress. It’s much higher than a normal sized bed, so I quickly reach her side, place my hands on her sides and settle her on top.

“Thanks,” she says, running her hands over the white downy comforter. She’s so light, but it still manages to puff up around her legs. I smile at the perfect picture she presents to me. Delectable, sweet, charming and…dare I believe, mine.

I shake my head of those thoughts. I’m not ready to venture down that lane.

“Anyway, what I mean is that, inside it’s very homey. You might have a lot of money, Max, but I don’t feel like you’re shoving it down my throat.”

I chuckle at her word usage, “Thanks, I think.”

“Oh, right. My words,” she blushes.

“Liz, can I ask you something?” Moving closer, I take a seat next to her. I hope it’s not a mistake.

“Sure.”

“What’s with you today? I mean don’t get me wrong, I like it, but you’re different. This morning you were one way, and now, you’re just…different.” How eloquent of me. I need a thesaurus.

She raises a hand in the air, and waves it around. “You mean, why I’m not shy and quiet?”

“Exactly. I’m just not used to this you.”

“I guess it’s safe to say that, I’m not really shy, Max. I mean, yes I am around strangers and people I don’t trust, but…things are different between us. Right?” she looks up at me, suddenly unsure of herself and I hate that I make her doubt that.

“Liz, things are different. A good different.” I offer her a reassuring smile, and take her hand.

“So this is the hard part.” I let out a breath.

“What is?” she asks.

“I want to hire a nanny, Liz.”

“For what?”

“I told you I don’t want to be a part-time father, and when I can’t be with the baby, I want to make sure someone can be there.”

“I will be there Max. If you mean when you need to go out of town, the baby will be with me.”

“Liz, I talked to my father, and now I need to talk to you about the custody of the baby."

She stiffens visibly. “You want to s-share custody?” she asks, accusingly.

“You say it likes it’s a bad thing. We can do this.” I keep my tone upbeat and clear.

“Why not just have visitations? Do you think I wouldn’t let you see the baby? Because, Max I know you haven’t known me for long, but I would never, ever keep you from the baby. Whenever you want to take him, or see him, you could. Does it have to be so drastic?” she continues almost accusingly, but not enough for me to take offense. She’s just worried.

God, I hate this conversation. I really do, but I do have to protect my interests. And as much as I just want to drop it, I can’t. My first priority is to my child; it has to be.

I reach out my hand, brush her hair away from her face, and cradle the back of her neck gently. “Liz, please don’t think more into this. We are both going to be parents to this baby. But we have to figure this out, together. I won’t go over you, which is why I want to talk about it with you.”

“I don’t understand. We can share it, we will…” I can read the panic in her eyes, and I decide that I need her undivided attention, because I can feel her pulling away, emotionally. Thinking quickly, I pull her into my lap, wrap my arms around her waist and tuck my finger beneath her chin. Her lips are trembling, and I brush a kiss across them.

“I want you to know, this is important Liz. It’s important, because I have a lot of money, and I want to make sure that if I’m not around, that you and the baby are taken care of.”

“I don’t need your money,” she says venomously. I try and hide the smile in my voice. She’s so tough, when she doesn’t need to be. But I can understand.

“I am having a child support agreement set up and I want you there to go over the details. I want to share the custody with you. You may not want or need the money, but the baby is entitled to it and I want to give it. Put it in a trust fund, if you want, or we can have one drawn up. Have you thought about when you’re working, who will watch the baby?” I ask, softly.

“I don’t know. I didn’t think that far. I know that I talked it over with Alex and I was going to take additional time, but after that…”

“Which is why, I’d like you to help me choose a nanny. Liz, it can be a big help not only for me, but for you too. You can see the baby on your lunch hour, and when I’m away on business trips, which I plan to cut in half once the baby is born, the nanny can help you, when I can’t. I want to do this with you, for the baby, for us. Let me do this, Liz.” I plead softly, and she just lets out a shuddering breath, rests her head against my shoulder and doesn’t speak.

I hold her, not saying a word. I know it’s an inner struggle she’s dealing with, and I give her this time.

I place a kiss on her temple; lift her to spin her on my lap. I whisper to her, “You see that wall over there?” I say motioning to the wall beside the bathroom.

She moves, for the first time in minutes. “Yeah.”

“I’m having part of it knocked down. The other side of it is a closet that you can access from the hall. It’s another walk in closet, more than enough room for the nursery. I was going to use one of the other bedrooms, but I didn’t want it far from me,” I say, and then add, “Would you help me with it?”

She moves slowly, her head tilting up, and then she manages a small smile. “I would love to.”

“I’m sorry if I upset you.” Her deep brown eyes gaze into mine, and for the first time since we’ve met, she does the most unexpected thing.

She kisses me.


TBC…

A/N - Thank you guys for the feedback!! I wish this story would just flow from my fingertips as easily as it rolls off my mind, but sadly it doesn't. With that said, I did finish the next part, therefore there will be another update next week I had hoped to finish up this Christmas story I was working on, but it seems the weeks fly by and the time just isn't there for me right now.

I do hope you enjoy this part...



Chapter Eighteen


<center>Letting It Slip</center>


I watch them closely, and wonder not for the first time, how they make their relationship work. What are the ingredients to make it last?

It, meaning the good times; the love, all of it.

Dexter and Stacey have this chemistry that just exudes in every look, every touch, you almost feel jealous of watching them.

And yes, a part of me is jealous. Because I don’t think I’m capable of that type of love. Maybe when I was young and naïve, but I’m well past that point. Not everything turns out the way I want and need it to.

All I’ve had was, one divorce and a string of meaningless girlfriends, and then there’s the sex. Because that’s all it was after I got divorced.

Hell, that was all there was before I met Serena.

It’s not that I have a problem with commitment, not in the least. My problem seems to be my belief that things don’t work out for the best, and maybe my insecurity that things don’t last, for the majority.

Cynical, I know, but true in my case.

And now I have Liz and my baby she’s carrying, and these feelings I don’t quite understand. I can’t put a name to them, because honestly what I feel when I look at Liz, when I think about her, when I touch her, kiss her…is just different. It’s a feeling unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my entire life.

And that, right there, scares the shit out of me.

What does it all mean? I hate over analyzing anything. Normally, I think it over, once, twice and then make a definitive conclusion.

Not with Liz. Hell she drives me half mad with wanting to know about her, revealing things I never would have thought about her, and now this ‘new’ personality. I enjoy her all the more for it. I know she still has secrets, and that’s okay, but when she lets down her guard like she has been, she’s like a breath of fresh air. I can’t help but want to be with her every second of the day.

Which makes me feel miserable, because I can’t be. It would be odd, wouldn’t it?

I can’t just show up and take her to dinner every day, and kiss her and want to do all of these maddening things to her.

Then again, a part of me feels like after that day in my bedroom two weeks ago, that things changed between us. She’s five and a half months pregnant, she grows by the day and my feelings for her change by the hour, it seems.

“So Max, when do I get to meet Liz?” Stacey asks me as she turns from Dex to regard me across the table. We decided to meet up for lunch this afternoon.

I snap back to reality and smile at her, “How about Thursday? My mom has been dying to see pictures from the wedding.”

“That sounds excellent. Now tell me, are you excited about the baby?” she smiles brightly. My heart clenches a bit, and my eyes make a quick sweep toward Dexter, and see that he hasn’t moved his eyes from his wife. The thing I failed to mention is that Stacey is sterile. She can never carry a child of her own, or have a child that is biologically related to her, a childhood illness, and something about the treatment that left her incapable of doing so. Dexter explained it to me long ago, but the how and the why didn’t matter.

For Stacey and Dex, nothing matters because they can weather any storm. I’ve seen their relationship from the start, and I knew from the first time Stacey spilled her drink over Dexter’s head that they were something special.

He never looked at another girl after that.

“…I think it’s great that you’re going to be a father, Max. You’ve waited a long time and…” Stacey trails on and Dex looks at me with a smile knowing once his wife went on a tangent she could be there a while.

I reach out grabbing my drink and taking a slow sip. I try and focus all my attention on her, but again my mind wanders to Liz. She’s been in every thought lately, constantly. We still talk every night, which I love. I stop by and see her every day, and tonight we’re supposed to be double dating with Alex and Isabel.

All and all things are going great, but then there’s this fear that keeps creeping up into my conscious; what if we don’t work out?

Isabel says I’m putting too much stress on our new relationship.

“Honey, why don’t you give Max a chance to talk?” Dex says with a laughing smile as his wife slaps him gently on the chest.

“That’s okay. Stacey always did love to talk,” I tease.

“The both of you are evil, did I ever tell you that?” she crosses her arms across her chest and puffs out a breath.

“Yes.” We both quip lightly.

“Come on Stace, you know I love you but that mouth of yours well, it rivals Maria.”

“Oh! Speaking of which I ran into her the other day at Daisy’s, she looks great. Have you spoken to her?”

I nod my head, not truly sure if I should venture down this road, but knowing what I know of Stacey and Dexter, I know my secret is safe with them. I tell them everything Maria told me, but I keep the information Michael shared with me to myself.

“Damn, Max. Michael is going to be pissed when he finds out.” I love how he says ‘when’ not ‘if’ Michael finds out.

“My intention was to tell him, but Michael’s dealing with some other stuff. So I decided to wait a little.”

Dexter shakes his head, and leans forward, placing his elbow on the table to regard me. “It’s a mistake. You’re in the middle now; this could blow up big time Max. You know I’d back you through anything but you need to tell Mike. He won’t be happy that you’ve kept up your friendship, but honestly I don’t know how he’d expect anything less of you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, truly at a loss.

Dex gives Stacey a quick look before turning back to me. “Max, you don’t know how to let go.”

“What is that supposed to mean,” I repeat.

His shoulders shake a bit before he continues. “Don’t shoot the messenger, man. I’m just saying that, well look at your ex-wife. Max, you do know it’s not normal to be on speaking terms with her right?” I nod, knowing it’s true. But my relationship with Serena is different, we’re friends.

I must show my annoyance because Dex reaches out and slaps me on the arm, laughing boisterously.

“All I’m saying is that, I can understand why you couldn’t just write Maria off. And I don’t blame you, but Michael is your brother, you have some loyalty to him. I know you better than you know yourself sometimes, which is why I’m going to give you this piece of advice before my lovely wife and I head out.”

“Yeah, and what’s that?”

“Sometimes, no matter how much it hurts, you have to let go.” He offers me a small, knowing smile before he and Stacey say their goodbyes.

I lean back thinking about to a time when he offered me the same advice, and while I took it, I didn’t follow it through.

Dexter gave me that same advice, when I was trying to decide what to do about Serena and my relationship. And I knew he was right then, just like I know he’s right now.

I have to let go of my past in order to figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.

Before I can decide what I’m going to do about Liz and I.


<center>****</center>


I pull up to my house and my phone goes off. I’m tempted to not answer it, I really want out of my suit and a long hot shower. I flip it open and see it’s Alex.

“Max, you need to get over here. Liz is freaking out, like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” he rattles off.

“Wait, is she okay?” I ask, already pulling back onto the street.

“Yes. No. She’s crying, she won’t open her door and she’s playing Alabama,” he says with a heavy sigh.

“What does Alabama have to do with anything?” I try and focus on both Alex and the road, knowing that during traffic it could take me a little longer to get there.

“She’s blasting it, she only does that when she’s upset.”

“Okay, but are you sure she’s feeling fine, it’s not the baby or anything right?” I say, feeling my gut clench with worry.

“No, physically she’s fine.”

“Okay—”

“Just hurry, cause she won’t open for me.”

“What makes you think she’ll open for me?”

“I’ll pretend you’re not asking me that question,” he says with an extra thick layer of sarcasm.

I hang up after that realizing I can’t do a damn thing until I get there.


<center>****</center>


I don’t even reach the doorstep before Alex pulls me inside and calls out something that sounds like, “She’s your problem now.” I shake my head and make my way to Liz’s bedroom door, but before I even reach it, I can clearly hear the music blaring from inside.

Even though Alex told me whom Liz was listening to, it’s still odd for me to think of Liz even liking country music. Then again I don’t even know what kind of music she really likes.

I reach the doorknob and it’s locked. I knock, loudly.

“Go away, Alex!” she yells out over the music.

“Liz, it’s me, Max.”

I hear a little shuffle, after the music is turned down, and she opens up the door. Immediately I take in her appearance. Her eyes are swollen and puffy, her cheeks are pink and the tip of her nose is red.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, as I push through into her room.

Which I might add, has been completely destroyed. Clothes are thrown all over the place, along with shoes and well, just about anything else that would have been found in her closet.

“Nothing,” she pouts, literally pouts and then starts to cry. I quickly close the distance between us, wrap my arms around her and urge her to look at me.

“Tell me sweetheart,” I murmur as I place a kiss on the top of her head.

“I’m fat!” she bursts out crying and I am unsure of what I’m supposed to say to that.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes. I am! Don’t antagonize me Max!” she growls out and stomps back towards a small portable radio sitting atop her dresser and turns the volume back up.

I walk up behind her, turning it down and she huffs and walks away.

“Liz, you’re not fat. You’re pregnant, and…”

“And I’m fat!” she throws herself on the bed and cries into her hands.

My heart breaks at her how defeated she looks. But I smile because she looks adorable right now. She’s wearing a black knee length dress, with a deep v-neck and her small feet are stuffed into black and pink ‘Hello Kitty’ slippers (for the record I only know the name of that inane Kitty because of Isabel).

“Liz, tell me why you think you’re fat?” I ask coming to stand in front of her.

She yanks her hands away from her tear stained face and says, “Because I am! I’m fat and pregnant, and no one…no one is going to want to…to…” she sputters as her eyes finally take all of me in.

A smile lifts at the corner of my mouth, as her eyes travel up my body and I hear her intake of breath. I’m told I do present a mouth-watering visual experience in my suits; this is probably the first time she’s actually taken notice though.

“Hi,” I say, and she blushes back behind her hands. I lean down and pull her hands away, and somehow manage to settle in next to her on the bed. I draw lazy circles over her stomach and wish; with a deep longing that I could feel our child move just once.

“Why don’t you finish your sentence,” I urge softly.

“No. It’s embarrassing,” she mumbles out, not looking at me. At least she’s moved her hands.

“Tell me,” I coax softly, taking liberty to lean in and kiss her cheek softly. I whisper in her ear, “Tell me,” and she draws in a deep breath.

“You do enjoy embarrassing me. Fine. I’ll tell you. Only if you promise to leave after I’m done.”

“No can do, Liz.” She narrows her eyes at me, but I know she’ll tell me.

“I was going to say that no one was going to want me.” She looks at me, gauging my reaction.

I don’t skip a beat. “Trust me Liz, you don’t have anything to worry about.” I say, suddenly finding my closeness to her uncomfortable, for me.

In fact, the instant she said no one was going to want her, my body jerked to life. Hell the moment I saw her, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks, my heartbeat sped up. I lick my dry lips and sit upright, trying to gain some distance, but her hand reaches out and grabs me.

“What do you mean by that?” Leaning up I watch as she searches my face for an explanation, which I’m not sure I can give her.

“I have an idea.” I decide to try and distract her.

“What?”

“I’m going to take you shopping, after I go home and take a shower and change. So lose the slippers and grab your purse.” I reach for her hand, tug on her gently to stand beside me.

I think I’m home free, I really do.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

She stops just short of the door and pins me with a serious glare.

“What?” I feign ignorance.

“What did you mean?”

Seeing no way out of this, I say, “I just meant that you affect me, so I know that what you said wasn’t true. Because…because…” I stop myself. What the hell am I thinking? I cannot tell Liz that I want her.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t understand my dilemma and pushes me for more.

“Tell me, please.”

“Leave it alone, Liz.”

“Tell me, Max.”

“Liz—”

“Max, we’re not going anywhere until you tell me.” She stomps her foot down and crosses her arms.

I take a deep breath, because suddenly I feel like that first domino that falls, the one that causes everything else to come tumbling down, but I say it anyway.

“I want you.”

Her eyes go wide and I push past her, thinking that the last thing I can do now is take her anywhere.


TBC…

A/N - You guys are awesome!! Honestly, thank you for the feedback, and yes I know I left you THERE, but at least I'm coming back with an update -- however on that note, I will say I've been sick this past week and it doesn't seem to be getting better, so there has been no time to write at all. With that said, I'm not sure there will be an update next week, if not, please expect one the following

---Finally, I will also let you guys know I will be posting my Christmas story today as well. It's the sequel to The Christmas Gift, which I wrote last year. I hope you enjoy.

Thanks!

Tanya


Chapter Nineteen


<center>Playing With Fire</center>


What in the hell possessed me to utter those damn words to Liz a few minutes ago? Now I’m in this extremely awkward position, and she’s not making matters any better.

“You know you never asked me if I wanted to go shopping,” she quips lightly, as if I didn’t just tell her that I wanted her. How can she just ignore it? Pretend as if I didn’t voice my thoughts of her, something I didn’t plan on telling her anytime soon, if ever.

I disable the alarm, unlock the doors and bypass my gentlemanly behavior of opening her door, and make my way around to the driver’s side. I take a deep breath before I swing the door open. She’s already situated inside and giving me an expectant look.

I can’t help but take a moment to look at her, and think back to that day in my bedroom, when she kissed me. God, I can’t help but think about that kiss every minute of the day since it happened. It drives me to distraction in the middle of the day, on my way to work, in the shower, but especially, in bed.

A shiver runs up my spine and I know it’s time to focus my attention on trying to figure out how to handle Liz and this abominable situation I’ve created.

It’s not that I think Liz is offended in any way, but more so that she may think further into what I said, than I intended for her to (I think).

“You may not want to go shopping, but I’m taking you anyway,” I say, starting the car and pulling onto the street. A second later I realize I need some reinforcement; I’ll call Isabel.

“You lied to her, you told her I wanted to go shopping, but I never said that, Max,” she says accusingly after I hang up with my sister.

“I know. But it’s the truth. Liz, you may not want to acknowledge it, but you’re over five months pregnant and you are showing. Don’t you want more comfortable clothes?”

“I can buy them myself,” she bites out. Why does it always have to come down to this between her and me? Why can’t she just let it go and let me do somethingfor her?

“I never said you couldn’t, but I’d like to buy them for you.” I sigh heavily, and realize this is not the type of conversation I want to have with her.

She grows silent, and I regard her with quizzical eyes.

“You’re not going to fight me on it?” I ask, almost afraid she will burst into a new tirade over it.

“Max, I’ve realized that arguing with you is just not something I like to do. So for the sake of my sanity and yours, I’ll just go along with it until later.” My jaw drops, but I don’t speak. She’s just given me a little leeway from her biting sarcasm.

I decide to ride in silence until we get to my house. I’m safer that way.


<center>****</center>


“I’m hungry,” Liz says as we walk by a pastry shop.

“What do you want?” I ask her, glad that Isabel is keeping a safe distance. I’m also thankful that she wasn’t too upset that I changed our plans for tonight.

“A snack,” she says as she walks a little ahead of me and pulls Isabel into the nearest store.

A snack, I guess I should know what that means. Instead of asking her, I decide to give them some time alone. Liz hasn’t even commented on what I said, nor, for that matter has she made any attempt to touch me.

Add to the fact that, we haven’t discussed the kiss or what happened afterwards either, only makes me wonder what’s going on with her.

I walk into the pastry shop and decide to just buy a box filled with one of everything I think she’d like and hope that would suffice her craving. I can’t help but think about her kiss, it was soft, tentative and damn near set me on fire. There was something so timid about it, that it made me want her all the more for it.

Thoughts like that are what get me into trouble, but I think that I’ve earned the right to have them, with her. She’s for all intents and purposes, my girlfriend. I’m not doing anything different with her than I’ve done with anyone else…well, that’s not entirely true.

Liz is different than any woman I’ve ever met. She’s a mystery one day, an open book the next, and she always keeps me guessing. While on worse occasions, temperaments that range from one extreme to the other, would irritate the hell out of me. They, with her, seem to drive me crazy, but in a good way. She keeps me on my toes; she makes me take notice of her, without even trying.

And she kisses me with a softness I’ve never felt with anyone. Liz doesn’t just kiss anyone, and maybe knowing this makes the difference. Every other girl I’ve been with, I’ve followed the exact same pattern; meet them, sleep with them and figure out what we are from there.

Granted, nine out of ten times, its just sex, but on that one rare occasion it turned into something more, Serena.

Then, not now, I thought the first time we were together; it was what I was looking for my entire life, to connect with someone. Not just sex, something more. Something that maybe I didn’t have the right words to express, but it was there, tangible.

And now, divorced and years later, I realize that even that was different. Was it just my age? Hers? Was it just that I was lonely? Or was it something else? And if it was, why did it fade away? Why didn’t it last?

Questions like that for any man are well beyond anything we want to think about. I, however, don’t have the luxury of ignoring them. Not when this thing with Liz is new and so different than anything I’ve experience in my entire life.

After placing my order I take a seat at a nearby table and wait as the girl fills my box and makes three strawberry milkshakes.

I watch the couples walk by the window and think back to when Serena and I first met. Funny thing is, while I remember it, when it happened, I don’t remember the feeling.

Shouldn’t I remember the feeling? And if I truly don’t, does it mean it’s gone forever, not for her, but for anyone? Was she supposed to be the love of my life, because then, I sure as hell thought she was, but when I think about her—those old feelings seem like another time, another place, and another me.

“Why are you brooding, it’s not very becoming,” Isabel’s voice startles me back to reality. I look up and see my sister standing with one hand resting on her hip, her hair tied back in a deep purple and white scarf, and a smile on her face that tells me she’s been watching me for a few minutes.

Rather than ask her what she’s doing here, I ask where Liz is. Isabel’s smile drops, and she pulls out the chair beside me.

“She got a phone call, and I decided to give her some privacy.”

My brow rises in question, and she squirms. I’m about to ask her, but she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before telling me, “Dean.”

“And you left her alone to talk to him?” I question, realizing that anger has suffused itself in my voice. I try and tamper it down.

Isabel waves her hand in the air dismissively and says, “Did you want me to sit on her lap and ask her to put it on speaker?”

“You could have tried something, to at least hear what they were talking about,” I bite out, not enjoying her sarcasm right now.

I’m not sure when I became this insecure person, but I don’t like it.

Again she sighs, and I’m about to march my ass out of here and over to Liz, but Isabel places a hand on my shoulder, waits until I pause to look at her before speaking.

“You know, I don’t know when you became possessive over any woman, but you are. And what I’m about to say, you may not like, you may not even agree with, but I think you need to hear it.”

I run my hands through my hair, and notice the girl call out to me from behind the counter that the shakes are done. Right now I could care less if they melt on the counter.

“What, Isabel? And make it quick,” I clip out.

She has the nerve to smile at me; I ignore it and just listen. “Max, you need to figure out how you feel about Liz. This tug of war isn’t working.”

“What tug of war?” I question, wondering if maybe Liz mentioned something about our kiss, or rather kisses (overall).

“I’m not blind. You watch her, listen to her, give Liz your undivided attention; and that’s great. But why are you doing it? Have you figured it out?” she asks, and I recall one of the first conversations we had about my feelings for Liz. Too bad she has more faith in me having come up with an answer, than I ever could.

“Isabel, I don’t—”

My sister quickly cuts me off, “God help you Max, if you tell me you still don’t know.”

“Do you want me to lie?”

“I want you to stop living in the past,” she rebuts.

I defend, “I’m not. Why does everyone tell me this?”

“Because it’s the truth. Max you’re a guy, which tells me you have been twisting and turning your relationship around with Serena trying to figure out what happened there, and compare it with your situation, your feelings, for Liz,” she finishes with such triumph, that I wish I could shoot her down and tell her how wrong she is.

“You don’t know how hard it is,” I say, realizing my voice is gruff and vulnerable sounding. I realize Isabel obviously knows what she’s talking about. I hope she does have helpful insight coming my way after this.

“I do. I am struggling with Alex because I know all to well how hard it is. I realized with Alex and Liz, all the rules we’ve known are different – they will never apply. They have lived a life, seen a world we never will, god willing. Let me ask you, how many girls have you been with on a date without sleeping with?”

My eyes narrow, wondering where she’s going with this, but answer nevertheless. “None.”

“Except for Liz,” she comments, I nod.

“Doesn’t that mean something?”

“No, because Liz is pregnant. Our situation is completely different than yours and Alex’s.”

“Wrong.”

“Wrong?”

She nods, “Yes. Alex isn’t like all these guys out there that just want me physically, he wants and loves my mind, he likes how I must always stop and pet every dog in my vicinity, just because I love the feel of their hair and touch their cold noses. He doesn’t think that’s weird, or too time consuming. Alex, let’s me wear my hair in a ponytail, and slap my glasses on, and he still thinks I’m pretty. That’s different for me, Max, very different. And when I watch you watch Liz, I realize that what you need from her, more than you’ve ever needed from anyone; is acceptance.”

“Acceptance of what?”

“Of you. Just you, Max. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Serena did that,” I try and compare, parallel the feelings, again.

“Bullshit, Max. Serena never tested you, not once, while you were married. She new you loved her, and you knew she loved you, but knowing isn’t the same as doing it everyday. I love Alex, Max. It’s maybe too soon, maybe not the right time, but I won’t deny it. Alex isn’t perfect, and I finally realize that I don’t have to be either,” she confesses with a slight blush.

“I never said I was perfect. And I don’t love, Liz,” I state firmly, while ignoring that nagging feeling in the back of my mind, the feeling that always rears its head around any and all thoughts of Liz.

“Okay, if that’s what you want to believe I won’t push you. But there is just one thing I want to tell you before we go back, and you can take it or leave it,” she says, standing and looking down at me. I follow her lead, make my way to the counter and grab my purchases, and hand her a milkshake.

“You love Liz.”

I sigh, pushing through the door and waiting for Isabel to follow. “I just said—”

Isabel waves her hand around, “Yeah, I heard you. But the problem is, I don’t believe you.”

I confess, “I do care about her. And I do like spending time with her, just talking to her even, but that doesn’t mean that I am in love with her, Isabel. I think I’d know.”

“No. You wouldn’t,” she states firmly as we stroll past the front of the store Liz is inside of. “You don’t love Liz the way you loved Serena.” It’s not a question, but a statement. A statement I take a moment and sink my teeth into; but still I come up short.

“No. I was in love with Serena, that was different than what I feel for Liz.”

Isabel spins on her heels, her eyes glowing, “You asked Serena to marry you.”

Again a statement and she clicks her tongue, and looks at me expectantly. I’m growing tired of this conversation, mainly because I still don’t know what her point is. And furthermore wasn’t she only supposed to tell me one thing? “Yes, I know.”

“You loved her enough to ask her to marry you.” I nod.

“But the one factor you’re not thinking about is, you and Serena are divorced.”

“I know that,” I hiss out frustrated.

“Yes, you know it, but do you realize why you didn’t make it?”

“No. If I did, don’t you think I would have tried harder?” My voice rises and I pull her gently to my side, stilling her steps.

“How could you say that?” I can’t hide the hurt in my voice, as much as I wish I could.

She looks remorseful, and I know her intention was not to make me feel bad. “I’m sorry, Max. I was just making the point that you couldn’t try harder at something that was never meant to be in the first place. You were in love with the idea of being in love, with Serena. What you’re feeling for Liz is so different, and you’re right, maybe you don’t love her, but it’s something more than you’ve ever felt for someone else, isn’t it?” she asks, her voice dropping as we near the section of the store Liz should still be in.

“Yes. That’s why I don’t know, that’s why I’m confused.”

“If you weren’t confused Max, I would be worried.”

“So, that’s it? You’re big speech, to tell me one thing? Cause I have to tell you Iz, I missed it.”

Isabel stops right before we reach Liz, and whispers to me, “When you look at her, do you feel an ounce of what you felt ever looking at Serena?” I take a moment, my eyes drink in the sight of Liz, my heartbeat quickens and I look to my sister, she reads it in my eyes before I have a chance to say.

“That’s what I thought. Now, stop comparing your relationship with Serena with anything you could have with Liz. It won’t compare, and it’s not fair.”

I take in her words and realize she’s right.

“Not only to Liz, Max. It’s not fair to you either.” With that Isabel approaches Liz and then I move over to them, passing Liz her drink and holding out the box full of ‘snacks’ for her.

In the back of my mind are Isabel’s parting words, that and the fact that I want to know what Dean and Liz talked about.

He’s been ‘out of town’, and I can’t say I wasn’t happy when Liz told me. So I have to wonder why he’s calling her now. I narrow my eyes and take a deep sip of my shake.

It’s going to haunt me until I know.


<center>****</center>


I now realize why I never go shopping with a woman. Not only is it time consuming, but for the love of all that is holy, must they stop and look at everything?

I’ll never understand it, nor will I try and adapt to it. The only thing I am thankful for is the fact that Liz hasn’t put up a fight at me paying for the clothes. I’m a little shocked but I’m not naïve enough to think she will let this beast rest.

I called Michael a few minutes ago to see what he was up to tonight; nothing, so I’m stopping by after dropping Liz off. I’m eager to finish up and get to the bottom of my conversation with him. I’m sure he thinks I’ve forgotten all about it; he’d be a fool.


And of course nagging the back of my mind is what to do about my information on Maria. I know I owe it to my brother to tell him, but what will he do with the information?

At this point I’m not sure it will matter; that’s not true, I know it will. The problem is, I know my brother and in doing so, I know that I will tell him and he won’t do a damn thing to stop her.

Maria will leave, may never return and while I realize that I don’t know their whole story I do know that Maria and Michael were the real thing. Just like I’m sure that whatever it is Michael isn’t telling me, is bigger than him thinking he wasn’t good enough for her, in a superficial way.

I wish I knew, but at the same time I don’t have the heart to force it out of him. Michael and I have been through some tough times, had our arguments, but we’ve always worked things out. When I was having problems with my relationship with Serena, he was there, even if I didn’t want to talk. Michael would sit down in my living room, or me in his, and we’d listen to the clock tick. It was enough. It was what I needed. So what kind of brother would I be to force me to speak of something he’s wholeheartedly not ready to?

Taking a look around, I glance down at my watch and see that Isabel said to meet her and Liz here in a half hour. I’ve got about fifteen minutes to spare, I take a look across from me and notice a jewelry store; with that thought in mind I decide it’s about time I buy my girlfriend a gift.


<center>****</center>


With my trunk packed, Liz and I are on our way back to her place, she’s currently flipping through the radio stations.

“Thanks for today, Max.” Liz says and gauges my reaction. I’m not sure what she’s expecting, but I say, “You’re welcome.”

“I spent a mini-fortune; thanks to Isabel. She’s a power shopper. I’ve only heard about them, but now I’ve seen one up close and personal,” she comments, her eyes twinkling with laughter.

I can’t help but join in, “She was born like that. Thankfully, by the time my parents had her, my father was a senior partner,” I joke lightly.

“So what were you and Isabel talking about?” That question throws me off; I didn’t think she saw us.

“To be honest, we were talking about you and Alex.” Liz’s head snaps to my direction, shock on her face.

“What? You didn’t think I’d tell you?” Okay, so technically I have no intention of telling her what exactly we were discussing, but I’m hoping she’ll be more inclined to tell me what Dean was calling for.

“Not really. It’s not my business,” she mumbles, and I reach out my hand and push a strand of hair away from her face. “It’s your business, but if you have to know anything, Isabel was just telling me how different you and Alex are, how the normal rules of dating don’t apply.”

“What do you mean?” Good question, because I have no intention of telling her we were talking about me not being in love with her. So I improvise, it’s at least still the truth.

“I guess the only way to say it so you understand where we’re coming from is, we’re used to people using us. You and Alex are beyond being able to do that. You’re better people.”

“I can imagine what that’s like, being used,” Liz comments, as I pull out onto the highway. And while my intention was to drive her home, I decide to head to my place. I’ll head over to Michael’s a little later.

I take heed of her last words, before I proceed. “Isabel said you had a call from Dean. Was everything okay?” I really don’t care, but I have to pretend, don’t I?

“Yes. He was calling to tell me he’d be home this weekend. He wanted to catch up for lunch, and then he wanted to talk to me about something.” ‘Something,’ isn’t an answer, I want more.

“Does he go away on business often? I can’t remember him going before,” I comment casually.

“Not really. His company sends him every now and again. But he went to visit his mother too.” I nod my head. So far I’m not getting any warning signals, but I press on.

“So he was just calling to say hi?” I prod gently.

“Max, why are you so jealous of him?” she asks, and I stiffen. As if I’d be jealous of…oh hell, I am (once again).

“I’m not.” It can’t hurt to deflect the question.

Liz narrows her eyes, and allows the knowing smirk to appear on her face. “You are. And I really don’t understand why.”

I turn to her incredulously, how can she not know. “I was just trying to make conversation—I just wondered where he’s been.”

“Okay, Max. If that’s all you wanted to know, okay. But maybe I should tell you that there is no reason whatsoever for you to be jealous of him. Besides, I didn’t take you for the jealous type.”

“I’m not,” I respond quickly, because it does bother me that I am, but only when it comes to her.

“Were you this way with your ex?” she queries, and I shake my head.

“Then why with me?” A good question; one I don’t know the answer to.

“I don’t know.”

Our conversation halts until we reach my house. I pull up the drive and turn into the garage before I turn to Liz, I reach into the center console and pull out a small, square, Tiffany box and hand it to her.

Her eyes grow wide, then she looks up at me, I can read the uncertainty, but I urge her to take it.

“Max, you shouldn’t have,” she says while lifting the top off the box and peering inside.

I smile, thinking I’ve done a good thing, but it drops the moment I see the determination set into her features.

“Why did you buy this?” she asks, a hint of accusation laces her words.

I look to her in confusion and say, “Because I wanted to get you something.”

“It’s too much.” I blink in shock when she hands the box back to me, the diamond and aquamarine (her birthstone) necklace is nestled inside and the scowl on my face couldn’t be clearer.

Liz obviously notices my disappointment, mixed with anger at her reaction, but whatever internal battle she was fighting, she’s recovered.

“I don’t want you to spend your money on me…it’s bad enough you wouldn’t let me buy my own maternity clothes.”

“I knew we weren’t done with that topic for the day,” I bite out blandly, with a hearty dose of sarcasm lacing my words as I reach for the lid of the box, and reach for the door handle.

I make the attempt to step out, staving off the argument ensuing, but decide backing down from her isn’t going to get me anywhere. Instead I say, “You know Liz, most girlfriends, would say ‘thank you’, smile and maybe in throw in a kiss…even if they didn’t like it they would be appreciative of the sentiment. My bad. I’ll be sure to remember to never buy you anything, even if it’s something that I’d like you to wear.” Quickly, I remove myself from the car and make my way towards the door.

“Max, wait!” she calls out, but I don’t stop, instead I throw a, “forget it Liz” over my shoulder and walk inside.


<center>****</center>


When I enter the kitchen I realize that I need to check some messages on my phone, I excuse myself as Liz tries to apologize. I don’t want nor care for her apology. It’s not what I want.

What I want is for her to acknowledge that I am her boyfriend and that this is more than just her being pregnant with my child.

Maybe I just need to walk away for a few minutes. Checking the five messages I have, I realize after a few minutes that I’m stalling. I don’t want to face her, because I don’t want to argue with her.

Before I head back downstairs, I take a deep, fortifying breath. Unfortunately, for me the moment I step back into the kitchen, the wind is knocked out of my chest.

Hard, thumping pain, takes the place of my once normal beating heart.

I wonder, however in this moment whether the fact that I’ve been celibate for months has anything to do with the fact that seeing Liz, sitting at my counter with a strawberry poised at her lips, makes me hard.

Eyeing her carefully, I realize that while celibacy plays a part in my reaction, it’s not the only reason behind my reaction.

Bracing my hand against the wall beside me, I try and calm myself. I try and fight the urge to sweep her up in my arms, lift her onto that granite counter and see if the inside of her mouth tastes as sweet as that strawberry looks.

Damn, but if I’m not really turned on now. She must notice me because a second later she drops the strawberry and turns to face me, an apologetic look sweeps across her face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, Max. I didn’t. It’s just—well the only person that bought me anything like that was Danny. I mean it wasn’t like that, in the way it looked but in…” she sighs but continues, and I let her. “The sentiment behind it. I know we sort of came to the conclusion that we were dating, but without really saying it…and I just didn’t want…I…” she swallows thickly, and moves her gaze around the room; anywhere but on me.

I step fully into the room, stand right beside her, she spins, and I reach out my hand to pull her back. I look down into her face, her eyes are swimming with uncertainty, her lips; red and swollen from eating the strawberries, and everything inside of me at that moment comes back to life.

Without realizing it, I’ve managed to cup her face between my hands. I lean in closer, search her eyes for that look, and finally seal my lips with hers. The kiss is anything but soft. Instead, I cover her lips; slide my tongue against her bottom lip before diving in and tasting the sticky-sweetness of her mouth. She sighs against me, pulling my shirt into her fists and urging me on with soft moans. I eagerly oblige her. My arms come around her, lifting her from her position, pressing her body as close to mine as possible.

It’s been so long since I’ve had her against me, kissing her, letting her warmth seep into me. The swell of her belly temps me, I want her closer, but it’s impossible from his angle. Thinking quickly I break from the kiss, she pants heavily, and I lift her in my arms and deposit her on the counter. My hands come to rest on her knees, and gently, I pull them apart, stepping between them.

“Is this okay?” I ask, not really wanting to break the moment, but not wanting her to be uncomfortable either. She nods her head and leans in, nibbles on my lips and I close my eyes, tighten my hold on her and quickly, voraciously begin to devour her as never before.

In this moment I realize that while Liz is more than open about kissing, I’m not sure if she understands that being in a relationship with me, means I’m always going to require more.

The only problem with that, is, she holds all the cards, and that scares me more than anything.

Sometime between the first touch of our lips, and the ever-present connection between us, I realize I’m playing with fire, and if I'm not careful, I might just get burned.

TBC…