Roswell Fanatics

Winner - Round 8



Winner - Round 6
























Cam



Authors: Applebylicious and Deejonaise (We sound like a sandwich, Linds )

Coupling: M/L

Rating: Um...this is Linds and me together...what do you think? But, just in case it's not that obvious, Adult

Disclaimer: Us no own so you no sue. (That's straight forward enough, right?)

Summary: AU, no aliens. Max and Liz have had a secret crush on each other for years. What happens when they finally act on their feelings?

Dedication: To Stef (Anais Nin) for inspiring me and Linds to write this fic in the first place. I hope we don't disappoint you.

http://img44.photobucket.com/albums/v13 ... eLinds.jpg[/
My Life as a Teenaged Superhero

Prologue

~Liz~

I’m a pathetic mass of jelly.

There. I’ve admitted it.

Loser. Contemptible. Spineless, ninny freak. These words are too good to describe me. I am, in reality, the lowest of the low. Pond scum is high class in comparison.

Now this isn’t a new realization. Truthfully, I’ve known this about myself for sometime but I’ve been in denial. Massive denial. And why I have come to this conclusion you might wonder. Because I’m a coward…there’s none bigger I tell you.

It’s only in this minute, this second when I’m chewing my pencil into a decrepit nub that it dawns on me. In a few days I’m graduating, salutatorian of my class, a big, bright future ahead of me, big city lights and even bigger dreams. Yet, am I preparing my student address as was my plan this period? Noooo. I can’t get Max Evans off my mind but, as per usual, I’m much too chicken to tell him so.

He’s over in his usual corner, surrounded his usual throng of jock friends and making his usual lame jokes at Mr. Seligman’s expense. He’s what my good friend Maria would call a meathead. And yet, meathead persona aside…he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Tall, tawny and almost sinfully good-looking, Max Evans is probably the most sought after boy in our school. As the star quarterback of our small town football team everybody knows Max Evans is destined for great things. I’m sure he’ll be drafted into the NFL before he even completes college. He’s definitely got one hell of a future in front of him, one that, ironically, clashes in all aspects with my own. So why do I find myself so ga-ga over him?

I’m destined for something greater than mid-west America. I’ve got my sights set on Europe. My dream of studying abroad is finally at my fingertips. I’m on the precipice of having everything I’ve always wanted. Yet, I sit here, like the pathetic mass of jelly I am, not plotting out my brilliant future or writing my salutatorian speech, but lamenting the fact that I’ve wasted four years of my life mooning after Max Evans without ever garnering the courage to utter three simple words: I like you.

Okay, so I did. I do. Big flipping deal. I, Liz Parker, queen of the geeks and president of every scholastic club you can think of, like Max Evans aka super jock. This should surprise no one. Nearly every girl in the senior class has a crush on him. Why should I be any different?

Hmm…let’s see… Well, because I’m smarter and more sensible, that’s why. I do not let boys turn my head, especially ones who seem as frighteningly depthless as Max Evans. My studies have always meant too much to me to let myself get distracted by a boy. I’ve been focused on getting into a good college since I was in the sixth grade. I was a workaholic even then. Besides, once I reached high school, no one really appealed to me anyway. In some ironic twist, however, the boy who had achieved godlike status in my eyes was the boy I outwardly disdained everyday. But I can’t help myself. He’s like this enigma to me. I’ve looked into his swirling green-gold eyes before and I just know there’s got to be something more to him than the super jock act he puts on. I know there’s something deeper and God help me I want to find out what it is…

But I’ve never made the attempt, not with him or anyone else for that matter. I’ve gone most of my junior and high school career with no boyfriend, no social life to speak of and with plenty of time to devote to my schoolwork. The only reason I didn’t make valedictorian was because my competition proved to be an even bigger loser than me. I take comfort in knowing that, even though she beat me out scholastically…at least I am acne free and I do have friends… Maybe only two but I have them…

Anyway, I digress. Back to Max Evans and my aforementioned lack of courage.

So it’s not like he doesn’t know I’m alive. He borrows a pencil from me nearly everyday in study hall. I know that this should probably make him less attractive in my eyes. The very fact that he is so woefully unprepared and so dammed unapologetic about it, too, should at least incur an eye roll. But in keeping with my pathetic loser persona I think it’s endearing. I just love the sweet, low timbre of his voice when he asks, “Hey, Parker? You got a pencil?”

As cut as his body is (and yes, I’ll admit to watching him work out during football practice, okay! Didn’t we already establish that I’m a loser? Moving on.) Anyway, the boy is cut yet, in contrast with his hard body, his voice is amazingly warm and soft. I could listen to him talk for hours and about anything, like butter melting over my skin. It’s little wonder that I eavesdrop shamelessly on most of the conversations he has with his friends during study hall.

Okay, so I’m being ridiculous and I know it! This is Max Evans we’re talking about here. He’s a jock, a pretty boy…a guy like him would never be interested in a girl like me. I’m too goal oriented, too structured. I’m not the type to sneak food in class or to make ribald jokes about my teacher when her back is turned. I’m not the type to laugh out loud and disrupt the class and be damned unrepentant about it later. I think it’s important and a mark of responsibility to be on time to class and I have never, never been caught making out on school property.

And yes, technically I’ve never made out period but that’s hardly the point. Max Evans is the bad boy, rebel type. He would spell disaster for a structured, good girl such as myself yet I know if he even half looked at me I’d give into him. There’s just something there…something about him that hints at something wonderful… Something that draws me even when I don’t want to be drawn…

For a moment I’m so lost in my silent lamenting that it takes me a second to realize he’s staring at me. My heart lurches before plummeting into my stomach. I’m pretty sure I’m going to hyperventilate myself into unconsciousness. He’s looking at me, my God, he’s looking right at me and he is so damned beautiful I almost want to cry. But then he tentatively holds up my pencil, shattering any illusions I might have had about his being interested. “Do you want it back?” he mouths to me.

I nod weakly, only because I want him close and I will say just about anything to have him near me. He leans down to whisper something to his friends and then swaggers over to my desk, seemingly impervious to the fact that he’s not supposed to get out of his seat without permission. I both hate and envy his ability to do whatever the hell he pleased.

“Thanks,” he says, placing the pencil squarely in my palm. My knees go aquiver. Have I mentioned already that this boy has the sexiest voice ever created?

“You might consider getting your own next time,” I reply tartly and while I want to kick myself for being so unequivocally rude to him I can’t stop the words from coming, “Maybe you wouldn’t have to borrow mine so much.”

He grins at me. “I like borrowing your pencil, Parker,” he laughs, “It’s practically a tradition with us. Besides what does it matter…school is over in another three days anyway.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” I mumble.

I expect this is when our conversation will end, that he will walk away and return to the cool kids on the other side of the classroom but he doesn’t budge. No, he continues to hover above me and my heart begins its wild thumping all over again. God…why does he have to smell so good?

“So…um…Pam Troy’s throwing a graduation party tonight,” he remarks casually.

“So?”

He scratches behind his ear and I can tell my cool demeanor intimidates him. He’s probably used to having girls fawn all over him. It’s probably a slap in the face for him to have a geek treat him with disdain. Good. I hope I’m knocking his world off balance. Why should I be the only one sitting here with my stomach in knots? He stares down at me with those expressive eyes of his. Their golden depths are so riotous with emotion but damned if I can tell what he’s thinking despite that.

“I was just wondering if you would be there,” he says.

“Why?”

“Geez, loosen up, Parker,” he volleys back, “I was just making conversation, you know? It’s supposed to be raging and well…it’d be a shame if you missed it…”

“I doubt anyone else would think so,” I mutter self-deprecatingly, snatching up my pencil to scribble nonsense across my notebook. I have to keep up the guise of being busy, don’t I? But his next words make me drop my pencil altogether.

“I’d think so.” I cut a sharp glance up at him and I swear in that second I don’t bother to mask my adoration for him. I know it’s written all over me and I just don’t care. His words are so sweet and candid that I can’t help myself. “You’re okay, Parker.”

“I…I am…” is my stammering reply.

“Look, you’ve always been cool to me,” he goes on, “Really decent. Always helping me with my work if I had a question, always lending me a pencil when I didn’t have one… I just don’t guess I’ve ever said thank you so…”

“So…”

“Well, I probably won’t see you again after graduation so I just wanted to say…”

“Say…” I probably sound a little moronic repeating the last word of everything he says but I can’t stop myself. My brain has gone on autopilot while my heart is soaring way above the clouds.

“Thanks, Parker.”

“You’re…um…you’re welcome, Max,” I say to him and I have to push the reply past a massive lump in my throat. The words sound garbled even to my ears.

He shifts from one foot to the other, as if he’s suddenly self-conscious in my presence, which I know isn’t the slightest possibility. “So…um…have a nice summer, okay,” he tells me after a long pause of silence.

“Yeah, you too,” I reply.

I watch him walk away and it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do because I know it’s probably our last conversation, the last time I will see him again until graduation and the knowledge causes a physical pain in my chest. I watch him walk away and I feel like something is ending, dying…something that might have been spectacular if I’d only had the courage to reach for it.

I watch him walk away and it’s like he’s taking my heart right along with him.

Um... wow... I'm here to post and we're already on page five?? Dee and I are greatly honored by all the tremendous feedback, guys, and hope that you all continue to enjoy the ride!

Hugs,

Linds



<center>Chapter One</center>


~Max~



“Hey, Lover Boy. Quit mooning.”

I don’t turn around at the amused voice, simply stick my middle finger up as Michael approaches. “She’s doing the nibbly thing,” I groan, scratching behind my ear, eyes firmly trained on the person sitting beneath the giant oak tree in the school quad.

“Nibbly thing?” he echoes, craning his neck to peer over my shoulder as Liz continues chewing her lips in concentration, studying a stack of notes. He shakes his head. “You are so hopeless. Why don’t you just ask her out, Maxwell?”

That statement is crazy enough to have me turning my head and staring at him. “Are you fucking nuts?” I hiss, looking back as Liz stretches her legs out and glances at the sky. “Look at her, Michael,” I murmur to my best friend. “She’d never even think about someone like me.”

He lays a supportive hand on my back, thumping twice in commiseration. I take comfort in the fact that at least one person understands my dilemma… when he says, “Like I said, fucking hopeless.”

“Oh, what do you know?” I mumble, shoving a hand through my hair as I turn away with a sigh. “She looks at me like I’m some sort of… specimen on a slide. It’s unnerving.”

He quirks a brow, leaning lazily against the wall as he shakes his head at me. “Admit it… you’re scared. Maxwell Evans, big man on campus, is afraid of being rejected by a five-feet tall brainiac.”

If it had been anyone other than Mike, I probably would have puffed my chest out and laughed off the idea of anyone rejecting me. Like he said… I’m Max Evans. I practically have my own fan club at this school.

I can’t walk down the hall without being propositioned by half the female population, and the other half doesn’t wait for a reply before shoving their numbers down whatever accessible venue they can find on my person.

Rejection is not something I’ve ever encountered, hell I don’t think I’ve ever even been in the position to be rejected. My love life consists of a girl asking me out, and I show up at the proper time and place and if I’m in the mood, I might get lucky.

Too bad the one person I’d be willing to put myself out there for thinks I’m a ridiculous jock without a brain cell to call my own. Before you think I’m over-exaggerating… let’s just say that is a direct quote from Liz. I was sitting behind the bleachers one day, partaking in the nice weather… okay, I was spying… when I heard Liz and one of her best friend’s talking about guys.

Naturally my ears perked up, thinking maybe I’d glean some information about just what type of guy makes Liz Parker tick. I didn’t doubt for a minute that my name would come up… I’m Max Evans, for God’s sake. But Liz’s opinion of me was a little different than the usual consensus.

Needless to say… I wasn’t too keen on approaching her after hearing myself compared to a lab monkey. So I keep quiet about my strange fascination with the class brain, and silently pine over what I’ll never have a chance in hell of touching.

I manage to get my fix of her daily, but I think she’s starting to catch on to me. After all, you can only forget your pencil so many times before it starts looking rather suspicious.

“Did you ask her to Pam’s thingy?” Michael’s voice interrupts me from my silent pity party.

“I… think so,” I frown. “It was kind of… confusing.”

He stares at me. “How is it confusing?” he demands. “You either asked her or you didn’t.”

“I didn’t ask her ask her,” I growl, feeling decidedly ridiculous. “I just… asked her. If she was going.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, God… this is just sad.”

“Shut up,” I mumble, falling into step with him as we head for the parking lot. “I could tell she wasn’t interested, anyway.”

“Maybe she’s just shy,” he answers inanely. Then he grins mischievously. “If she shows, I double dare you to dance with her.”

“You double dare me?” I repeat disdainfully. “Are you sure you don’t want to put superglue on Mr. Seligman's chair while we’re at it?”

“Hey, if you really are scared…” he trails off knowingly and I grit my teeth in annoyance, knowing fully well he’s got me.

No guy can turn down a freaking dare. No matter how old or mature we consider ourselves to be… you don’t turn down a double dare. Hell no.

“She won’t show up,” I grind out, ignoring the snicker coming from underneath his breath.

“We’ll see.”


<center>***</center>


“Max! Max, where have you been?”

“There he is!”

I paste a smile on my face as I’m immediately bombarded by the Max Evans Welcoming Committee upon entrance to Pam Troy’s estate later that night. “Hey guys,” I respond, dutifully slapping hands and receiving kisses as I make my way through the throng.

I see Michael chatting up a cute redhead in the corner, and quirk my lips as he pretends to use the excuse of “bad lighting” to drag the willing female into the shadows. He catches sight of me, and a wide grin splits his lips as he nods his head towards the opposite side of the room.

I look over and my heart stops as I see none other than Liz Parker herself, sitting on the couch and looking for all the world as if she’d rather be in hell than sitting between the two couples making out hot and heavy on either side of her. She scrunches her legs up closer to her chest, rolling her eyes as she tries not to touch any of them.

I find the situation endearing, before my eyes travel further down and I lose every breath in my body. Good God… who told her she could come out in public dressed like that?!

I’m torn between wanting to lock her away so no one can stare at the luscious curves revealed by the clinging dress she’s wearing, to wanting to lock her away… with me.

Someone shoves a glass of whatever in my hand and I eagerly drain the contents, hoping like hell to diminish some of the heat overwhelming me. Maybe then I can process what the hell I’m going to do, as she looks up and sees me watching her.

Her eyes grow wide and her cheeks flush before she looks away, her eyes darting back to glance at me. I offer her a small smile to which she looks amazed, then swallows and nods.

Well, I guess that’s better than pretending I don’t exist.

I set my shoulders, taking a single step forward when I’m nearly knocked over by a blonde whirlwind. I grab onto a passerby, regaining my bearings before I look up to see Liz being pulled away by Maria DeLuca, otherwise known as the blonde whirlwind.

She glances one last time at me, a strange look in her eyes… disappointment? No way. Then she heads off to dance with her friend, leaving me bereft and ready to kick myself.

“Very smooth, Evans,” I mumble, leaning against the wall as I watch her laughing at something or another Maria says. Just watching her makes me smile, even as I realize she’s consciously avoiding looking at me. She despises me and I worship her.

I turn to leave and find the way blocked by sultry female. Pam purses her lips, sidling close to me as she runs her hands down my arms. “You weren’t going to leave without saying… goodbye?” she teases in a seductive tone.

I clear my throat, looking around for some sort of distraction. Instead my gaze once again collides with Liz, only this time it’s plain to see the disapproval in her eyes. She frowns at me before looking away. Dammit.

“Actually, I just saw Kyle. He’s looking for you,” I smile, easing her away gently and feeling no qualms about pushing her off onto my friend. “Have you seen Isabel?”

Pam sighs, glancing at me from beneath her heavily coated lashes. “She’s not here yet,” she answers. “Are you sure you don’t want to…?”

“Maxwell,” Michael’s voice breaks in before Pam can finish her proposal. I shoot my friend a thankful glance to which he raises both brows wickedly. “There you are. C’mere a minute… there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Can’t it wait?” Pam pouts.

“Sorry, Pam,” I say not unkindly. “Great party… see you later.” I head off with Michael in tow. “Thanks,” I collapse against the wall as we enter the hallway. I yank at my collar. “God, is it hot in here or what?”

“Go ask her to dance,” he says without introduction. “Stop putting it off, pansy.”

“I’m not a –“ I trail off indignantly as he laughs. “Nice… you almost got me.”

“Get out there, Max. She won’t say no.”

“All right, I’m going… “ I throw my hands in the air. Taking a deep breath, I look around until I find her, still dancing with Maria in the corner. This time I don’t allow myself to ponder the implications of my actions as I stride towards her.

Maria gives me a startled look as I raise my brows questioningly, the song smoothly seguing into a slow, pulsing beat. She wrinkles her nose like she’s trying not to laugh, then nods and moves away as I come up behind Liz.

She whirls around, her mouth falling open in shock as she stares at me. Mariah Carey continues singing about Honey in the background, but all I can see is that close up, Liz Parker has flecks of gold in her eyes.

"Where's Maria?" she demands breathlessly, going stiff as I place my hands on her hips, trying to draw her into the dance.

"I asked to cut in. Do you mind?" I accent this question with the half-smile I’m told could make any woman drop at my feet. Hey, I’m willing to use whatever ammo I can get my hands on.

"Mind?"

I grin at her owlish expression. "I don't know many brains who move like you do."

"Oh god," she groans in mortification.

"It's good," I rush to assure her, slowly grinding my hips against hers. "You're good. I mean...you look good. Dancing!" I add in belatedly horror, "You look good dancing!"

She looks as horrified as I feel, and we both pull away abruptly. “Uh…” I scratch my head, feeling my face turn red as she just continues to blink at me. “So… you came.”

Oh, fuck. This is awful.

“Maria made me,” she answers, then closes her eyes as if in pain. “I mean… she didn’t make me… she just… oh God.”

I can sense she’s ready to run so I drudge up a carefree grin. “Good to see you, Parker. That's a, uh… nice dress,” I nod at her and her mouth drops open.

“Well… hmm…” she nods back. “Thanks…?”

“No problem,” I clear my throat. “So… wanna dance?” I shimmy my hips, wiggling my fingers jokingly as I grin at her. “I promise I won’t ask you for a pencil.”

And then, to my utter amazement… she laughs. And I fall in love right there.

<center>Chapter Two</center>

~Liz~

My first inclination upon arriving at Pam’s was to kick either Maria or myself in the head. By the time the festivities were in full swing Maria was looking like the likelier candidate. It’s like she worked some kind of mojo on me. My best friend just has this way of talking really, really fast so that you’ll get dizzy trying to follow the conversation and end up agreeing to whatever dimwittery she suggests. In this instance it was Pam Troy’s spectacular graduation bash. She had hooked me with, “Max Evans will be there.” By the time I finally realized that Maria had me swindled we were already in her Jetta and halfway to our destination.

Now suddenly all my irritation has melted away. It doesn’t matter that I’ve spent the last hour sandwiched between four heaving bodies while their sloppy kisses echoed in my ears. It doesn’t matter that my feet are killing me and that I’m deathly afraid that my boobs might pop out of my dress at any given moment. It doesn’t even matter that just a few moments ago I had to watch Pam Troy flirt shamelessly with my secret crush. It doesn’t matter because, at this very second, he’s dancing with me. Max Evans is actually dancing with me.

His hands are on my hips again and we’re swaying together just like I always daydreamed about. I want to melt all over him but I have to remind myself that girls do that to him all the time and I want to set myself apart. It takes tremendous willpower but I manage to put some space between our gyrating bodies and shake off his hold.

“Too close,” I tell him when he gives me a quizzical look.

“Is it?” he murmurs, his eyes traveling up and down my body in a totally delicious way, “I didn’t think it was close enough.”

My mouth falls open yet again. Am I losing it or is Max Evans flirting with me? It’s almost too ludicrous to contemplate. I’m tempted to glance over my shoulder just to see if there’s someone standing behind me. Maybe he’s only playing a game.

“Are you trying to unnerve me?” I demand bluntly, thinking I’m right about his gaming.

He appears startled by the question, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. God, the way he has of looking at me through the canopy of his lashes is so damned appealing. “Why would you think that?”

Gradually, our movements have slowed. We’re still swaying back and forth but it’s more rocking than dancing. I duck my head shyly with the look he’s giving me, tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, contemplate the toe of my shoe…anything to keep from melting into his wonderful eyes.

“We’ve…um…just never really talked before,” I mumble, “This is so out of the blue.”

“It’s not out of the blue,” he whispers meaningfully, “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, Parker.”

There’s no way I can resist looking at him now. “You have?” And then I catch myself before I give too much away. I don’t want to come off like a lovesick puppy. Doesn’t he have enough girls falling all over him already?

“The pickings at this party must be pretty slim tonight if you’re trying to pick me up, Max Evans,” I laugh.

“What?”

“Okay…maybe I’m off base here but…” I close my eyes and pray I don’t humiliate myself. It’s now or never. I’m a superhero and I can do the impossible or, at least, that’s what I tell myself before I blurt out, “Are you coming on to me, Max?”

“Yeah,” he replies just as bluntly, “I am coming on to you.”

“Oh my God…”

“What do you think of that?”

“Oh my…”

“I thought I’d have to be drunk to tell you this--,”

“—Oh god…”

“—Honestly, I feel a little drunk right now--,”

“—this can’t be happening…”

“So I’m just going to blurt it out--,”

God, yes! “—Please don’t--,”

“—I think you’re hot, Parker.”

My mortification quickly gives way to amusement. “Hmm…yeah,” I reply, laughing at this, “That’s definitely the word people use to describe me all the time. It must be the way I tote my bookbag. I’m irresistible.”

“You don’t think I’m being serious?” He acts hurt by the knowledge. “I’m not playing games with you,” he whispers, his hands coming to rest on my hips once more, “I like you, Liz.” Is the world tilting, cuz I swear I’m about to fall flat on my ass. My breath starts coming in harsh pants and the more I struggle to drag in a breath the more my lungs constrict. As my world retracts to a small black circle I can see Max’s eyes darken with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Outside…” I pant, “…I…Can’t breathe…”

The room starts to spin and I’m vaguely aware that he’s ushering me out onto the patio. Cool night air rushes into my lungs and a suck in great gulps while Max slides the patio doors closed behind me.

“Are you okay?” he asks again, rubbing my back gently, “Is it an asthma attack? Should I get some help?”

I shake my head. “Sometimes…when I’m excited…” I explain between pants, “I…hyperventilate.”

“Were you excited, Parker?” I look up into his smiling eyes and groan with renewed mortification. “Seeing as how I almost killed you when I told you how I felt about you I’m kinda rethinking the wisdom of asking you out,” he teases.

“You…you wanna ask me out?” I ask dumbly. Oh no, I can feel another panic attack coming on.

“If I did what would you say?” he counters softly, sifting his fingers through my hair to tuck several rebellious strands behind my ear.

His touch is distracting. His smell is unbelievable. This man is liquid sex. He just oozes it. I should literally be a puddle of goo right now, yet somehow I manage to maintain my dignity. “Is this…is this some kind of trick?” It’s possible that I’m being ridiculously paranoid right now but…the school jock asking the school brain out on a date? These things just do not happen in real life.

“If you’re not interested…” He leaves the statement hanging as he steps back from me in what appears to be disappointment. “Look, it’s cool, you know. I’m not your type so…”

“Max, I—,”

“You what?”

“I…I…I like you, too,” I stammer.

He ducks his head shyly at my revelation, his lips curving in a boyish grin. “Really?” Oh my God. Did I just make Max Evans blush?

“Yeah…” I confess sheepishly, “Since…ninth grade…”

“That long?” he says, surprised.

“Yep,” I confirm, “Not that you ever noticed me.”

“I noticed…” he laughs, leaning into me. He nuzzles against my temple and whether the action is deliberate or accidental I don’t know but my knees turn to butter nonetheless. “I definitely noticed,” he whispers, his breath stirring warmly against my skin, “Ever since we took Biology together in tenth and I saw you in those damned safety goggles… You were always so focused in class.”

“And you were such a slack ass,” I say in remembrance, tossing him a smile, “You never did any work in that class at all.”

“That’s because I was too busy looking at you,” he tells me, his voice soft and fervent. My toes are curling in my shoes. “Damn…why didn’t I do this two years ago?”

“I don’t know…why didn’t you?” I consider, “God knows you asked out half the cheerleading squad in the meantime.” Even when I’m getting what I want I can’t completely curb my sarcasm. It’s a curse.

“Hey…they asked me out,” he points out in exaggerated arrogance.

I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

“I guess I didn’t think this ‘lab monkey’ had a chance with you,” he jokes.

I groan in horror and bury my face in my hands. So this is what it feels like when your words come back to bite you in the ass. Not good. “I so totally didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” I mumble, “Maria was being a pain and… I was just trying to…um…God!”

“So you don’t think I’m a lab monkey,” he prompts, his self-assured grin widening.

“I guess you’re a step above,” I concede coyly. We stand there grinning at each other like idiots. This could easily be one of the most profound moments of my life.

“You never answered my question,” he says.

“Your question?”

“About going out,” he clarifies.

“Did you even really ask me?”

The blush is back and he scratches behind his ear in signaled disconcertion. He’s so cute, standing there, nibbling at the corner of his mouth I don’t know how I restrain myself from jumping all over him. Dignity, Liz! Keep a little fucking dignity! That’s the only thing that keeps me rooted in my spot.

“Nah, I guess I didn’t,” he mutters in a laugh.

“So…”

“So…will you go out with me, Parker,” he queries in a whisper, “Maybe this Saturday after graduation we could catch a movie or something.”

“You’re not hanging with your friends?”

“I’d rather hang with you.”

Oh my God. This is not happening! This is so not happening! I am standing out on Pam Troy’s patio with the guy of my dreams. Our noses are inches apart and he’s saying the words I’ve daydreamed about for nearly four years. He likes me and he wants to take me out. I almost expect Candid Camera to lurch out from behind the potted plants. Things like this just do not happen to little Lizzie Parker.

“Max…this is…um…this is weird for me,” I murmur, “Until five minutes ago I was sure you didn’t even know I was alive.” That’s a slight exaggeration but not far off the mark.

“Yeah well…until five minutes ago I was sure you thought I was a meathead,” he counters with an unrepentant smile.

“Great…you heard that, too,” I mumble in exasperation, “What do you do…eavesdrop on all my private conversations?” Okay, yes, I do this to him but that’s different. I’m entitled to be pathetic. Max Evans doesn’t have to be.

“If I said yes would you think I was some crazy stalker dude?”

“Probably,” I tell him, “But I’d go out with you anyway.”

“So you’re saying yes?” he asks with the unconcealed excitement of a little boy’s.

“Yeah…I’m saying yes.”

“Great!”

“Good.”

“Wonderful.”

“Yeah…”

“And I’ll see you…”

“Yeah…” We’ve exchanged profound words to be sure, our bodies being drawn progressively closer with each utterance. Now our mouths are scant inches apart, our breaths mingling. “So it’s a date then,” I whisper, dropping my eyes to his beautiful lips, watching, mesmerized, as they form words.

“It’s a date…” he breathes, bringing his hands up to frame my face.

“Hey, Lizzie, what are you doing…” Max and I spring apart as Maria burst out onto the patio. “…out here?” she finishes inanely. She shoots me a smile, which is so obvious I have to roll my eyes. “Hey, Max,” she says cheekily, “I can…uh…just come back later if you guys are talking or something.”

“No, we’re done for now,” Max protests, looking flustered. He smiles over at me. “I’ll see you Saturday,” he says, heading off towards the patio doors, “Don’t forget to give me your phone number before you leave tonight.”

“Phone number?” Maria squeals when he’s gone, “Okay, Gidget, what just happened here?”

I can’t even be mad that she interrupted my near kiss because it’s something I never imagined would happen in the first place. The fact that I was even that close to kissing Max Evans fills me with wonder. Honestly, I’m soaring right now.

“I don’t know, Maria,” I say, drifting over to the doors to stare after Max Evans with a goofy grin, “I don’t have a clue.”

<center>Chapter 3</center>


~Max~



I’ve got a date with Liz Parker… I’ve got a date with Liz Parker… I’ve got a…

Ahem.

I realize that grinning goofily and whistling to the tune of Macho Man in the middle of study hall may not be the best way not to draw attention to myself. Case in point, the teacher currently staring at me.

“Mr. Evans… is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” he asks, staring down at me over his nose.

Yes, actually. I’ve got a date with-

“No, sir,” I smile cheekily. “I’m just a happy boy, I guess.”

Chuckles and giggles sound throughout the room, and Mr. Seligman eyes me intently before turning back to his Newsweek magazine. I catch Liz’s gaze across the room, and she bites her lip shyly before offering me a small smile.

Oh, baby. Before she can look away, I quirk a brow and hold up the brand new number two I brought with me to class. She breaks out into a grin when I wave it, and then hides her face with one hand as if embarrassed.

I can’t stop the dopey grin from stretching across my lips as we continue to stare at each other. It’s like one of those cheesy movies where everything fades away except for her. Time stills until the only thing moving is us, as we cross the room towards each other. She looks at me from beneath those thick lashes, her eyes soft and warm...

Well, hell.

I reach down to adjust the growing tightness in my jeans and wince. I can honestly say I’ve never had a boner in the middle of study hall. Especially not after thinking of someone’s eyes, for Christ’s sake.

A flush rises to my cheeks as I glance back to see her watching me curiously. Oh, baby… I wish I could show you. I really do.

“So, Max,” Kyle Valenti slides his chair in front of my desk, effectively blocking my view of Liz. “Saturday night. Tess Harding’s house.” He wiggles his brows. “Not only will there be unlimited alcohol available… but Tess’s parents are out of town, if ya know what I mean. It’s gonna be crazy.”

“I’m sure it will be,” I grin, thinking of the fiesty blonde cheerleader. Tess is pretty cool… she’s almost like one of the guys, not counting the long legs, blonde curls and big blue eyes. Kyle’s been trying to hook up with her since middle school, but unfortunately for him she has more brains than boobs. “But… I have a date.”

“A date?” Kyle wrinkles his nose. “Who the hell are you going out with that won’t be at Tess’s party? Come on, Max… it’s the end of our senior year! Parties every night until it’s time to head off to college in the fall.”

“Exactly,” I answer, slapping him on the back. “So what will it matter if I miss one?”

He looks completely baffled by my logic. Shaking his head slowly, he asks, “Who are you going out with?”

I shift in my seat. It isn’t that I’m embarrassed to admit I’m going out with Liz… I just don’t want it to get back to her that I was like… bragging about her, or something. “Oh… just a girl,” I answer inanely, wishing I could sink into my chair.

“Come on, Evans. Who is she?” He lifts his brows curiously, then grins. “Oh… I know. Stacey, huh? She’s been after you like a bitch in heat since Homecoming. Well, I guess I can understand you ditching us for that-“

“It isn’t Stacey,” I interrupt. “Look, Kyle… you have to promise not to say anything, okay? I’m not sure if she wants it to get out yet.”

He frowns. “Who the hell is it, Max?”

I glance over at Liz, and see her concentrating on her notes. As per usual. “Liz Parker,” I mumble, unable to keep the stark adoration out of my voice. I do everything short of leaning my head on my fist and sighing.

“Liz…” Kyle trails off, looking extremely confused. “You’re going out with Liz Parker.”

I stiffen at the blatant censure in his tone. “Is that a problem?” I ask pleasantly, although my eyes give off an explicit warning.

“No,” he says quickly. “It’s just that… Max, Liz Parker? Isn’t she kind of… I dunno… smart?”

I stare at him. “What’s wrong with being smart?”

“Smarter than you,” he adds. “Look, Liz is a nice girl… I worked with her on a biology lab back in tenth. She’s cool and all that, but Max, this chick has the IQ of Einstein. She’s a mind-level above us. She didn’t even laugh at any of my jokes!”

“Kyle, your jokes are lame,” I point out.

“Still… she’s cute and all.” I bite back a possessive growl as his gaze sweeps over Liz, his head cocking approvingly. “For a brain. But Max, there are plenty of girls in this town who would date you. Girls you wouldn’t have to talk about the theory of whatever with before you got to the good stuff.”

I roll my eyes. “Kyle, thanks for the advice… and I use the term loosely… but I know what I’m doing, okay?”

He shrugs. “Okay, if you’re determined to go through with this, then I wish you luck. You should bring her to Tess’s. You can’t miss this, Max.”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” I answer vaguely, knowing I have absolutely no intention of taking Liz to a drunken orgy for our first date. Or the high-school equivalent of one, anyway.

As he leaves, I glance back over at Liz, watching as she nibbles her lip while scanning the stack of notes before her.

This chick has the IQ of Einstein. She’s a mind-level above us…

I wince as Kyle’s voice replays in my head. Maybe I don’t care if Liz is smarter than me… but what if she does? How long will she really want to date a jock who struggled through all his math courses while she represented the school on the Math Team?

I can’t even spell the word trigonometry.

She glances up slowly, as if feeling my gaze. And when she smiles, I realize that maybe I’m not a brain, but there is something I know more about than Liz. Romance.

And I intend to teach her all about it.



<center>***</center>



Saturday afternoon comes quickly, despite the fact that I kept staring at my watch like a ticking time bomb all during what was supposed to be the most momentous occasion of my life.

Graduation. Commencement. The end of an era, and all that. While all the other students were shifting in their seats in the large auditorium with various degrees of excitement or nervousness, I was wishing like hell it was already over.

The only thing I remember about the damn ceremony was walking aross the polished stage to receive my diploma, smiling for the cameras that flashed and rolling my eyes goodnaturedly at the applause and hollers from my friends. And of course, there was Liz.

As salutorian, she didn't expound a lengthy speech on what comes next, or shooting for success, or any of the other cliche graduation sermons. Instead, she stood there and talked about the things we've done to get through.

As I listened to her soft voice take me back over the years, I realized everyone else in the place was as captivated as I was. She didn't try to cheer us or make us nostalgic, but she did so just the same. It couldn't have lasted over ten minutes before the valedictorian took over, but it made an impact on everyone of us. Or so I'd like to believe.

Afterwards we all rushed out and did the throwing of our hats in the air, watching them fall to the ground. A symbol of our freedom from the binds of public education forever.

I managed to get ahold of Liz, sandwiched between Maria and another of her friends, Alex Whitman. They were cheesing it up for the cameras and at the sight of her smiling and laughing, her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink that accented the deep crimson of the graduation robe, I couldn't stop myself from wandering over.

I could feel the curious gazes of the entire class watching as I made my way over, swallowing nervously as she studied my approach. We exchanged a few words, and finalized our plans for that night. I was introduced to her mother and pointed out to her father, who was talking with Alex's parents.

And then we parted ways, both of us not knowing what was to come but extremely anxious to find out.

So here I am, dressed in a pair of cargo shorts and a battered cotton shirt, a pair of sunglasses dangling across my chest, and a ballcap snug over my head. You may be thinking, this isn’t typical first date attire.

Well, I’m well-aware of this fact, okay? I have a plan here.


I pull up in back of Liz’s home, which is actually an upstairs apartment above the local hangout and shift into park. For a moment I sit there, before taking and deep breath and staring at the unassuming brick facade that resembles every other brick façade I’ve seen around town. Only… this one has Liz Parker inside.

And Liz Parker’s parents.

There’s nothing a teenage boy dreads worse than that first official meeting between himself and a perspective girlfriend’s father. I don’t care how cool you are, how smooth you might be… your palms are sweating and your tongue feels thick as you knock on that door.

The urge to flee for my life goes up another notch as the door opens, revealing a large man with Native American attributes, staring down at me like I was a piece of shower scum to be scraped off his bathroom tile.

I swallow, plastering a friendly smile on my face as I reach out a hand. “Mr. Parker?”

He stares at me through those intensely dark eyes, then booms out, “We don’t want any, thanks.”

With that the door is slammed in my face and I can’t even move, I’m so utterly frightened. For a long moment, I just continue to stare at the cheerful wreath adorning the door, then hesitantly raise my hand again.

This time when he opens the door, he folds his arms across his wide chest, eyes narrowed on me. “You again,” he murmurs in a dark tone, one thick brow raising.

“Sir, I’m Max Evans,” I hurry to speak before he slams the door again… or worse. Jesus, this guy is gigantic. I hadn't noticed at the graduation, but then I'd had other things on my mind. “I’m here to pick up Liz…?”

Judging by the way his lips press together and a low grumbling comes from his throat, I wonder if I shouldn’t have just stuck to my name. Crap… this guy is really gigantic.

“Daddy?” I hear Liz’s voice sound from behind the door, and I have to use every ounce of masculinity I possess to keep from throwing myself to her knees and begging her protection from Gigantigor.

As it is, I simply smile politely as she appears. Then my mouth falls open and I fight not to have my eyes roll into the back of my head as I take in her outfit. Okay, when I said dress casual…

“What are you wearing?” her father and I shout at the same time, then eye each other warily.

Liz just stares at us. “What? It’s a tank top and shorts.”

Ha. Just a tank top and shorts. Try yards of silky flesh above and below, peeking out and taunting me. Oh man, this is not good. And oh, lookie… Gigantigor is watching me, knowing the thoughts racing through my brain.

Dear God. Help me.

“Daddy, you remember Max?” Liz smiles, wrapping an arm around her father’s waist. “You saw him at graduation.”

“Max,” he echoes darkly. “Max.”

Yeah, that’s me. Although, right now I wish it wasn’t. “It’s… nice to meet you, sir,” I choke out. To my surprise, a hint of amusement enters his gaze. He must have realized the ridiculousness of my statement. I know I did.

“Max and I are going out, okay Daddy?” Liz speaks after a long moment. “I’ll have my phone on. Try not to drive Mom too crazy, okay?” she adds affectionately, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek.

“Cheeky girl,” he growls, but smiles back at her. Then his gaze returns to me. The dark thundercloud expression returns. “I expect you to treat my daughter with all the respect you’d show me, Max.”

“Of course,” I murmur, ready to grab Liz and make a run for it. “Thank you, sir.”

Thank you?! I can’t believe I just thanked a guy for letting me take out his daughter.

He grunts, then disappears inside. Liz smiles at me. “He can be a little intimidating,” she shrugs her shoulders.

Yeah, no kidding, sweetheart.

“But he’s really a big teddybear,” she adds, and I have to school myself not to snort. “So… where are we going?”

Just like that, we both seem to realize that we’re indeed alone. Together. About to go out on our first date. Her cheeks flush and she looks down at the paint on her toenails while I stare at her.

“Uh…” I shake my head to focus. And not on the length of her legs showcased in those shorts, either. Focus. Focus. “My cousin, he plays on a little league team. I promised him I would show…” I grin sheepishly. “I thought we could check it out, and afterwards maybe catch a movie or… whatever.”

I expect her to wrinkle her nose at the idea of watching sweaty boys play baseball. After all, she’s a brain, right? But to my surprise, her face lights up and she looks… excited. “Baseball? That’s like, the only sport I know anything about.”

She immediately looks contrite at her admittance and the blush on her cheeks darkens. I can’t help but grin. “So… you don’t mind?” I ask, taking a step closer.

“No,” she mumbles, glancing up in surprise as she realizes I’ve moved closer. “It sounds… fun,” she smiles. Her eyes widen when I take another step, until I’m close enough to reach out and touch her.

“Great,” I murmur, staring at her while tension pumps thickly through the air. “So, you look…” I let my eyes trail over her while I struggle to come up with something lucid to say.

“You said dress casual,” she stiffens, crossing her arms over her chest as if in protection. I sense her discomfiture at my study, so I look up to meet her eyes.

“You look great,” I say honestly. “I mean… wow.”

She relaxes a bit, a smile hovering at the edges of her lips. “Wow?” she repeats. “Do you use that line on all the girls, Max Evans?”

I grin at her teasing. “Only when it’s warranted.”

We continue to smile at each other as the minutes go by. Neither of us seem in any great hurry to leave, as we’re drawn together. Smiles fade to be replaced by nervously licked lips, and heavy-lidded eyes.

I clear my throat, my voice sounding huskier than before. “We… better get going.”

She nods slowly. “Okay.”

Minutes later, we’re buckled in and staring at the windshield. I glance over to see her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. I shift in my seat, running a hand though my hair. “Liz?”

She jumps, glancing at me. “Yeah?”

My eyes fall to her lips as she licks them again. “I think…” I trail off, licking my own lips. “I think we should go ahead… and get this out of the way.”

She frowns in confusion, opening her mouth to respond. I take the opportunity to move in, framing her face between my hands as I slant my lips against hers. She jerks at the first touch of my mouth, then we both gasp. I pull away, our noses pressed together as we breathe heavily. Then she yanks my collar back and I go with a groan.

There’s no teasing, no formality to this kiss. It’s deep, wet, and full of years of need. I bury my hands in her long hair, relishing the feel of the dusky strands sliding through my fingers as my tongue traces the inside of her mouth. Her hands grip my shoulders, unconsciously kneading the muscles there as we continue inhaling each other.

I break away, trailing kisses down her neck as she arches into me. “This is moving way too fast,” she gasps, her fingers tugging on my hair. Although I don’t know if it’s to make me stop, or continue. “Max, it’s too much.”

“You’re telling me,” I murmur, bafflement staining my voice as I look up to see her through a haze of passion. “Liz…”

“I know you’re probably used to... sleeping together on the first date,” she hurries on shakily, swallowing as she pulls away from me. “But Max, I’m not that kind of girl. I’ll never be that kind of girl. So if that’s what you think is going to happen…”

“Wait,” I hold a hand up, struggling to regain my bearings in the aftermath of that amazing, awe inspiring kiss. “Wait a damn minute. Who said anything about sleeping together?” I demand a little harshly due to the emotion flooding through me.

She opens her mouth to answer, then goes pale. “Oh my God,” she moans, slapping her hand against her forehead as she slumps against the chair. “I’m such an idiot. Of course you don’t want to… sleep with me… oh God.”

I stare at her. “Liz… look at me,” I demand roughly. When she doesn’t I make a sound and take her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “It was just a kiss, okay?” I speak more softly, caressing her cheek as she stares at me with wild eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything, except that I wanted to kiss you. I had to kiss you. It’s something I’ve wanted for so long… I guess I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I’m sorry. You don’t have to worry about anything else, okay? I’m not going to force you to… to… know matter how much I may want it.”

I miss the way her expression softens, I’m too bent on trying to salvage the situation, to put her fears at rest. “I didn’t even plan on… on kissing you until the end of the night. I just… you’re so beautiful and I… I…” I trail off with a growl, feeling utterly ridiculous.

“Beautiful, Max?” she whispers.

“Yes,” I answer gruffly. “You’re so beautiful. It’s hard not to want to kiss you, Liz.”

We both look at each other, then away. After a long minute of silence I’m ready to start pleading my case again, when she reaches over to take my hand.

“Max… I’m glad you kissed me,” she says softly. I glance at her in surprise, when she adds, “But let’s just… take things slow, okay? Let’s go have fun and not worry about whatever is going to happen. I just want to… get to know you.”

“I want that, too,” I say honestly, squeezing her hand.

“Okay then,” she smiles. “Take me out to the ballgame, Max.”

<center>Chapter Four</center>

~Liz~

I’ve never believed in love at first sight. It’s cliché, naïve, and completely ridiculous to my logical point of view. Yet, I find myself succumbing to the annoying truism even as we speak.

As I stare into his golden eyes, my heart melts. The shock of chestnut hair falling against his brow, the cocky self-assured grin that makes me want to smile…

“Cameron, quit flirting with my date,” I hear Max growl from next to me, and I jump at the sound of his husky, amused voice.

Okay, so I had you for a second, didn’t I? The man of my dreams isn’t the irresistible Max Evans that I’ve pined over every day of my life for as far back as I care to remember.

It’s his eleven-year old cousin.

“But she’s so pretty,” the cheeky rascal grins, winking at me from beneath a set of thickly lashed lids that mirror Max’s own. “She’s different from the others.”

“Okay…” Max clears his throat when I shoot him a mock glare. Completely unrepentant, he shrugs his shoulders, a wide grin on his face. “So… did you enjoy the game, Liz?”

In truth, I loved every minute of it. From the singing of the national anthem, listening to Max’s smooth voice as he went over the familiar notes, to the traditional over-cooked hot dog with way too much mustard.

When the opening pitch was delivered, I squealed in excitement and held onto Max’s hand as he pointed out Cameron to me, the pride evident in his voice. When Cam slid into home, I jumped up and yelled like every other person in the ballpark.

Oh for shame, Liz Parker went to a sporting event… however minor it was… and loved it.

“It was fun,” I smile shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Cameron and Max exchange knowing smirks.

“Did ya hear that, Cam?” he laughs, the sound rich and husky. “We’ll make a fan out of her yet. Okay, guys… I’ll be right back. Hang on to your butts.”

He excuses himself to empty our trash, leaving me there with Cameron, who studies me through the mirror image of Max Evans’s eyes. I smile back at him, amazed at just how damn cute he is.

The Evans’s definitely got the pick of the gene pool.

“He really likes you,” was Cameron’s decision moments later. He nods his head as if that was that. “I’ve never seen him act so goofy. And he never says retarded stuff like ‘hang onto your butts’. You make him nervous.”

I stare at him in shock, wondering why he’s telling me this even as a part of me wants to get down on my knees and beg him to continue. Please, tell me just how much Max likes me. I can handle it. Instead, I settle for, “Nervous?”

He shrugs a shoulder, standing hipshot with his bat slung over one shoulder. The swipe of dirt across his cheek and the backwards ball cap makes him look so damn adorable, I can’t stop from grinning down at him. And he knows it, too. “Most of the time he’s really cool. The girls drool all over him, but he doesn’t look like he cares much. He cares with you, though.”

I swallow, feeling a dark blush rising to my cheeks. “Oh,” I mumble inanely.

He cocks his head, expression growing serious. “Do you like him?” Before I can answer, he hurries on with, “I really like you, Liz. I think it would be cool if… you know, you guys got together.”

“Oh… well…”

“What are we talking about?” Max’s brows raise playfully as he rejoins us. I know I must be stammering and looking like a fool, but Cam takes after his cousin, smoothly sliding over the awkward moment.

“I was trying to convince Liz to ditch you and run away with me,” he smirks, eyeing me up and down in a lascivious way. Well, as lascivious as an eleven-year old could be, I guess. Still… it’s pretty good. “She needs a real man, not a loser like you.”

I begin to sputter, but Max only throws his head back and laughs, reaching down and pulling Cameron into a head lock. “Sorry, kiddo… you’re gonna have to find your own woman. In a few years,” he adds. “This one is currently unavailable.”

“Cool,” Cam grins. “But remember Liz, if you get tired of this Dumbo… I’m here.” Okay, yeah he’s a cutie but the fact remains: an eleven-year-old is hitting on me. Weird…

“Oh my God,” I have to laugh.

Just then, the coach comes out on the playing field and calls the team back. No doubt ready to discuss a victory dinner. Cameron winks at us, surprising me with a quick hug before he trots off.

I turn to find Max watching me with unreadable eyes, and immediately wonder if there’s something on my face. In my teeth… anywhere that could possibly warrant such an intense expression. “What?”

He shakes his head as if coming out of a trance, and then offers me that familiar grin. “Nothing. Come on, let’s go.”

When we go to the movies Max offers me his jacket as a shield from the cold theater air. The gesture is so gallant, so gentlemanly that I forget all about the movie. It’s just a capper to the sweet evening I’ve already enjoyed. What more could I have asked for than being tucked under his protective arm while we cheered on his little cousin.

I’m still there tucked under his arm but currently Max absorbed in the movie previews. But I could care less. I watch with avid fascination, following each kernel of buttered popcorn as they disappear into that damned hot mouth of his. I look away sharply when he flashes me a smile, my face on fire because he’s caught me staring.

Despite all my protests to the contrary, I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. My whole body remembers it, clear down to my toes. I can still taste him on my lips and tongue. I remember vividly how warm his lips felt against mine and the hungry way our bodies aligned. A perfect fit. God, it was as if we were melting into one!

It had to be, bar none, one of the most exciting experiences of my life. Yet, how do I respond, me with my mega brain? I proceed to act like a total nitwit and tell him I wasn’t a “sleep with you on the first date” type of girl. It’s true, of course, but…now he’d probably prefer a root canal to kissing me again.

Basically it was a case of foot in mouth disease. Every so often I will have a bad flare-up. For this particular outbreak, however, I blame Maria totally. She screwed around with my head. I was perfectly fine until she opened her mouth.

I love my best friend to death but she is, essentially, a pain in the ass. Could she simply let me float through my dream world? Nooo. Miss Flighty Mouth-Almighty felt the need to impart wisdom. Wisdom? Hah…from the most convoluted female I know? I think not. Still, she made the attempt and, unfortunately, got my wheels a-turning.

Not an hour before Max arrived to pick me up Maria was in my bedroom, staunchly laying down the do and do nots of dating Max Evans, aka the player of West Roswell. I swear she was like a political advisor prepping me for a Congressional address.

“Now you must keep in mind that Max Evans has quite a reputation,” she had told me, “No matter what…don’t put out on the first date, Lizzie. I know he's hot with a body like a brick shit house but you must be strong.”

“I must be strong,” I repeated dutifully.

“This is serious!” she said, “If you give into him then you won’t be any different from the skanky hoes he’s dated in the past.”

And that’s when I started second guessing Max’s motives and my judgment for agreeing to go out with him. Did he really like me or did he just want to get into my pants? Max Evans could have dated his pick of girls but he chose me…the one female who seemed to be immune to him. Well, not the only one…but you’re getting the picture. Could he really be serious?

The uncertainty plagued me over and over right up to the second he kissed me…and then promptly put me in my place. So now I know…Max Evans isn’t trying to get into my pants. It’s the furthest thing from his mind. Unfortunately…I definitely want to get into his.

Um…did I just say that? Nope, just ignore that last statement. I am the tried, the true, the very saintly Elizabeth Parker and I have carnal thoughts for no man. I don’t think about hard chests and strong arms and damned sensual lips that kiss you until you can’t even think straight. I don’t think about the places on my body I want those lips to taste and I don’t think about tasting right back. My blood’s not singing right now and I am not, absolutely not contemplating ripping off any articles of clothing with my teeth!

Um…yeah…okay… Refocusing. So maybe my thoughts aren’t so pure but, in my defense, how could I keep them that way after that “whoa, Mama!” kiss? I may be good but I’m not dead!

Consequently, I’m still shaking and Max…he’s scarfing down popcorn like it’s gonna jump out the bucket. Two rows up there’s a couple going at it hot and heavy and he’s oblivious. I, on the other hand, am aware of every groan, every sigh, every moist kiss.

Under normal circumstances I might have rolled my eyes at the sight but tonight I just envy them. I want to be them. I want to feel Max Evans’ mouth and hands on my body again, sweeping away all reason and logic. I want to be on fire. I chance another peek at Max, studying his profile. He seems so relaxed…so clueless and unaware of the rampant desire he’s ignited. It makes me want to grind my teeth.

“So what do you hear about this movie,” he asks me in a loud stage whisper, “I don’t see many chick flicks so I might doze off for a minute or two. Don’t take it personally, okay?”

I laugh because, even if he’s being sincere, the look on his face right now is priceless. “Okay…I’ll try,” is my giggled reply, “I’ll even let you use my shoulder as a pillow if you need it.”

To my surprise and delight he doesn’t fall asleep at all. By the time the characters share their first onscreen kiss the armrest is pushed up between us and our shoulders are pressed together, our fingers brushing. The sexual tension between us is palpable. I hold my breath, watching with fixated eyes as Luke Mably makes love to Julia Stiles’ mouth, all the while wishing it was Max’s mouth making love to mine.

I’ve seen this movie three times already and the onscreen chemistry between these two characters is so intense but that chemistry is nothing compared to what’s crackling between Max and me at this very second. As the kiss on screen progresses, I feel him go stiff beside me and I can feel his gaze slide in my direction. What is he thinking? Does he want to kiss me as bad as I want to kiss him?

I get my answer a few minutes later when, as Luke slides his hand over Julia’s to caress her fingers; Max slides his hand over mine. At first, I think it’s an accident. Maybe he just wanted to pull down the armrest, but when he begins mimicking the hero’s actions my heart begins to quiver in my chest.

He takes hold of my hand and presses it against his inner knee, rubbing it there. We don’t make eye contact. Our gazes remained glued to the big screen but it’s impossible to ignore the delicious sensations Max is creating as he strokes my hand up and down the length of his inner thigh. Luke and Julia play with one another’s hands in a decidedly sensual way but it doesn’t get any more risqué than that. This is a PG movie after all. But what Max Evans does next is definitely NOT PG.

The first instant my fingers brush his erection I forget to breath. Our eyes collide in that moment, searing in an electric stare. I wet my lips, acutely aware that my hand is pressed against his fly. “Max?”

“Liz?”

And then we’re kissing and it’s so much more than that. My last lucid thought is that Maria would not be pleased! He keeps my hand trapped against his groin while the other cups the back of my head to hold me captive for his demanding kiss. God, I feel him everywhere! His tongue thrusting into my mouth, his fingers massaging my scalp, his erection rubbing sensuously against my palm… It’s a head rush. There isn’t enough oxygen reaching my brain to concentrate on anything other than his hands and mouth. I want to kiss him forever. I want to touch him all over, to go beyond the barrier his khakis and boxers create between us.

As if he senses my silent desire, Max jerks from me with a startled gasp. His eyes are glassy in the murky dimness, shining like two brightly polished pennies. “Why’d you stop?” I whisper shamelessly and I can tell in an instant he’s shocked by the question. Maybe he expects me to be angry and maybe I should be but I’m not. Not at all. I want him too much.

“You…You didn’t want me to stop?” he stammers in surprise.

I shake my head, letting my eyes drift to his mouth again. Am I giving this boy mixed signals or what? Not four hours ago I was touting myself as a good girl but I seriously doubt good girls look at boys the way I’m looking at Max Evans this second.

Realizing this, I fight the natural inclination to yank him down for another kiss and attempt to compose myself. What is it about this guy that turns me into a typical, horny teenaged girl? That is so not me. I am goal oriented; responsible…I so want his bod right now.

I’m both mortified and turned on by the idea but I recognize the need for sensibility in this situation. We are in a public place, a movie theater of all places. I should try for some dignity…decorum. But there’s an insidious little voice in the back of my mind that just says, “Fuck it.”

Determined, however, I take a stab at maturity. “Maybe we should…um…just watch the movie,” I suggest reluctantly.

“I’m going to go get us a refill,” Max tells me, “I need to…uh…walk it off…”

I nod my understanding but: a. he doesn’t move and b. I don’t glance back at the screen. We drift back together as if pulled by an invisible string. His next kiss isn’t as forceful and hungry as the first or the second but it curls my toes just the same. God! How can a guy who plays as brutal a sport as football be so infinitely gentle when he kisses a woman? He cradles my face tenderly in his hands and sips from my lips…definitely making love to my mouth right now.

My breath constricts in my chest as I recognize that I’m falling hard. Before it was just this crazy schoolgirl crush but I’m quickly learning that Max Evans is all I made him out to be. He’s more than a jock, more than the class cut up and he’s quickly claiming my heart. I recall how he cheered his cousin on so exuberantly during the game; his big brother protectiveness and I just shiver. I can’t believe he’s this wonderful, can’t believe his mouth is slanting over mine.

When his lips travel to my throat, his fingers strumming the exposed skin just beneath my shirt some of my coherency returns. “We should stop…” I whisper, firmly placing my hands against his shoulders, “This is too fast.”

“You’re right,” he agrees breathlessly.

“I…I don’t want you to think I’m easy or something because I’m not.”

“No…no of course not.”

“I mean I’m not a prude or anything--,”

“Didn’t think you were,” he whispers, nipping at my earlobe and nearly making me lose my train of thought.

“—but I have goals…aspirations…”

“Uh-huh,” he says, seeking out my mouth again.

Our mouths crash for another series of torrid kisses. I shrug out of his jacket, suddenly overheated in his arms. Max waste no time coasting his hands over my exposed skin, creating enticing tingles wherever he touches. When we break apart again I’m literally babbling. “And…and I want to establish to you that I don’t usually make out with random guys at the movie theater.”

He bites his lip, grinning a little. “I’m a random guy?”

“You know what I mean,” I huff in laughing exasperation, “What I’m trying to say is…this means something to me, Max.” I stare into his eyes and I get lost. My voice takes on a dreamlike quality as I continue. “I know it might sound lame and stalkerish being that it’s our first date and all but…I’m getting really serious about you, Max.”

“I’m getting serious about you, too,” he whispers.

“Really?”

“Liz,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to mine, “I don’t know what you’re doing to me. This feels so…so crazy but I can’t stop… I can’t.”

I have to kiss him again for that but when I make the attempt he presses his fingers to my lips instead. “Slow,” he instructs deliberately, “We should take this slow.”

“Slow,” I repeat, staring at his mouth in a provocative manner.

“Don’t look at me that way,” he scolds with a grin, “Watch the movie.”

“You first,” I challenge.

“No, you first.”

“No, you.”

“You.”

“You look away and then I will, too.”

“Liz, if you don’t look I’m going to kiss you again,” he threatens.

“Hmm…”

“Liz,” he hisses my name in exasperation.

Before I know it we’re kissing all over again, our hands seeking out the smooth, naked places of each other’s skin. By the time we resurface from that hot, dark world the movie credits are rolling and people are beginning to file out. I favor Max with a sheepish smile and then we both burst out laughing. “So much for taking it slow,” I giggle, finding his lips again.

Max just grins into my mouth. “You don’t hear me complaining.”

Hey, guys! I'm back in black! Or... something. Er... anyway... just wanted to add my two cents in with Dee. We're really loving the response from you guys! In case you can't tell, we're utterly obsessed with this fic and having a blast writing it for you all, so the fact that you guys are enjoying it is balm to our writer's soul!

Hope you all enjoy the new chapter, and let us know what you think!

Hugs,

Linds



<center>Chapter Five</center>


~Max~


Ever tried driving while you have a giant hard on? It’s an extremely frustrating experience. Suddenly everything you see takes on a new sexual meaning. You find yourself staring at an approaching car’s headlights, your hand lingering on the gearshift. Even the soothing purr of the engine distorts and becomes a low growl that reflects the excitement building inside you.

In a desperate attempt to keep from completely losing it while I take Liz home, I reach down and flip on the radio. The edgy beat of a Guns N’ Roses song pulses throughout the car, and I slump back in my seat, strumming my fingers against the wheel.

“Max?”

Her soft voice brushes across me and I tense, swallowing as I recall the feel of her hands upon my body. Definitely not the train of thought I need to be having if I want to make it home alive.

“Yeah?” I have to clear my throat twice before I can speak, and my voice still remains husky. Don’t ask me to strip you naked. Don’t ask me to strip you naked… Oh God… she’s gonna ask me to-

“You’re driving on the wrong side of the road.”

“Look, I think we should definitely… wait, wha-?” I trail off, cursing a blue streak as a horn honks at me, bright lights flashing as I jerk the wheel to the right and barely escape a head on collision. “Shit!”

I pull off on the side of the road, driving a ways until I come to a secluded area behind an abandoned office building. I throw the Jeep in park, and just stare at the windshield as Axle Rose continues crooning about knocking on heaven’s door.

I glance at Liz, and see her biting her lip. I’m about to break out into a stream of apology, when she covers her mouth with her hand and starts giggling uncontrollably.

“Oh my God,” she gasps between her fingers. “You… you should have seen… your face!”

I stare in surprise as she continues laughing, then a hesitant smile lifts my own lips. I mock growl, ready to defend myself against her teasing. “Are you going to hyperventilate again?” I joke, shifting in my seat to watch her.

She shakes her head, unable to respond as nervous giggles continue to escape her throat. Eventually she quiets to occasional snickers. Just when I think she’s calm, she looks up at me from beneath the curtain of her lashes and sneers, “Where did you get your driver’s license… Kinko’s?”

I can’t help but laugh at that, and the fact that Liz Parker, certified brain of West Roswell High School, just managed to punk me. “Why Liz Parker… you’re a regular smart-ass,” I shake my head admiringly. “How did you hide it all this time?”

She looks honestly surprised. “I…” she nibbles her lip. “I don’t really know.”

“Must just come out around the right person,” I murmur, gifting her with a wink and delighting in the way her cheeks turn pink. “Could that be it?”

“Maybe,” she answers, smiling at me. “I really like this song,” she adds, looking down at her lap as the flush on her face darkens from my intense study.

“You do?” I ask, taken aback. “You listen to this?”

“Well, what did you think I listened to? Public service announcements on the Learning Channel?” she returns a little stiffly.

“No,” I drawl, “it’s just… well, not many girls I know like hard rock. They like pop music. The Backstreet Boys, J-Lo… you know, girl crap.” I shrug my shoulders knowledgeably.

“Oh, please,” she rolls her eyes. “That’s so sexist!”

“Hey, I just call it like I see it, Parker.”

“Well, I know guys that listen to pop music,” she glares back. “It’s not just for girls.”

“Yeah… and have you considered the possibility that these guys are gay?” I coo. “Come on, babe… real men don’t listen to boy bands.”

She leans forward, forgetting any embarrassment she had been feeling and pokes her finger straight into my chest. “That is just so typical! God! Why are guys so freaking afraid that if they don’t act like complete assholes, then someone might – God forbid – think they were gay? It’s completely asinine – “

“I know.”

“-and furthermore…” she trails off, catching my smug tone in the middle of her heated lecture. Her eyes narrow on the grin curving my lips. “You did that on purpose!” she hisses, looking equal parts amused and flabbergasted.

“Just wanted to get you thinking about something else besides being nervous,” I admit with a cheeky grin. “Parker… you look really hot when you’re mad.”

“Not this again,” she groans, flopping back and covering her forehead with her hand. “Why do you keep telling me I’m hot?”

I blink. “Um… is this a trick question?”

“Max, I’m not hot, okay? I’ve never been hot a day in my life,” she sighs. “Sometimes, I guess I can be passingly attractive, but I’m not the kind of girl people watch go by and say, ‘Wow, she’s really hot.”

I fold my arms across my chest, raising a brow. “Uh huh.” She catches my amused tone and glances sideways at me. “Oh, please… continue,” I wave my hand. “I’m enjoying this.”

“It’s not a joke!” she cries out, and tugs at the hair at her forehead. “Max, really… if you want this to work out between us, don’t blow smoke up my ass okay? I know what I am, and I know what I’m not. And not for one second do I even come close to the vicinity of being hot.”

I wait until she stops talking, allowing a long moment of silence to fill the air before I speak. “Are you through?”

“Well… yes,” she frowns. “Why?”

“That was the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard in my entire life,” I say in response, unable to hide the irritation in my voice. Her eyes widen even as I lean across the expanse of the Jeep until I’m right in her face. “You think I’m blowing smoke up your ass? Think again, baby. I may be a lot of things, too, but I’ve never had to blow smoke up anyone’s ass in order to get a date.”

Her lips part at my harsh tone, but she doesn’t move as I release the catch of my seatbelt, still glaring at her through heavy-lidded eyes. “Max?” she whispers breathily.

“I think you’re hot,” I grind out, placing a hand against the seat on either side of her head. “So what do you think of that? Huh? How are you going to explain it away, Liz? You think I woke up one day and decided, ‘Hey, I sure am bored. Wouldn’t it be fun to ask out the class brain?’”

Her pink tongue comes out to lick at her lips, her gaze dropping to the nearness of my mouth. “Max.”

My jaw tightens at the invitation in her tone. “No,” I say sharply, even as I drift closer. “I’m mad at you, dammit. Stop licking your lips.” I growl when she licks them again, and reach down to find the lever that reclines the passenger seat. I give it a quick jerk, watching as she falls back. “I said, stop,” I whisper darkly, positioning myself across her as our breath mingles.

“Kiss me,” she sighs, reaching up to clasp the back of my neck. “Please, Max.”

She doesn’t have to ask me twice. My lips crash against hers, dragging forth a low groan as I sink into the heat of her mouth. While my teeth tug the delectable bow of her upper lip, my hands are stealing up between us until they hover over the curves of her breast.

She arches into my hand, and I squeeze the plump flesh with a sigh of relief, pulling back so that my palm lightly grazes her. I rub my hands in a circle against her nipples, relishing the small gasps that escape her throat. Turning my head and slanting my mouth across hers again, I catch her tongue and slide my own against it.

Somewhere, a part of me realizes that this is getting out of control again, but that part of me is buried beneath a heavy layer of long-standing frustration and desire. My fingers return to her breast to tug at her nipples until she moans, and I swallow the sound of pleasure, shifting until our upper bodies brush.

I can feel the erection from the theater returning with a vengeance, and I can’t resist grinding myself against her silky thigh. It’s not enough. I grind harder, capturing her lips fiercely, praying for some sort of clarity in this haze of passion.

I feel her hand fall to my groin of its own accord and began massaging my aching length through the rough denim. I jerk back, yelling, “Slow!” Panting, I stare at her through my lids as she watches me with an equally glazed expression.

We both blink, then in unison we mutter, “Fuck it.”

Our lips collide as my hands shove her shirt up. Before I even know what’s happening, she’s tugging my own up and over my head. The scraps of material land unnoticed in the backseat as we both reach for each other.

That first touch of our upper bodies together, no clothing acting as a barrier, nearly crosses my eyes. My arm braces behind her back, lifting her into a half-reclining position as I bend my head and take one ripe peak into my mouth.

The second my lips close over her, she cries out and buries her hand in my hair. She whispers words that make no sense to me, but I grasp the urgency behind them. I suckle deeply, rocking her back and forth as sounds of appreciation erupt from my throat.

Her cries grow breathy, her body undulating in a steady rhythm against my own. At this moment, I feel completely and utterly in control. My lust can’t touch me. I want relief more than I want to take my next breath, but my focus is her. I want to make her lose her mind.

I break away, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against her collarbone, beneath her chin, across her cheek until I reach the corner of her mouth. “Baby…” I whisper in a voice hard with need. “We can’t do this here.”

“Wha… what?” she manages, eyes heavy and soft, lips swollen and parted as she gasps. “No… don’t stop,” she begs in a sultry tone that causes me to close my eyes in agony. “Make love to me.”

“We can’t do this here,” I repeat, placing my fingers against her lips as she opens her mouth to protest. “You deserve better. But we can do everything else.”

My dark tone drags a soft moan from her lips and I bend to kiss her again, deep and lingering. All the while, my hands slowly make their ascent upward, trailing across her knee, drifting along her thigh… until I cup her in my palm.

Oh, God. She’s so fucking hot it nearly makes me lose it right then and there. I drop my head against her breast with a long-suffering groan, and sleekly slide my hand along the juncture between her legs.

“It’s too much,” she gasps, head thrashing against the soft cushioned headrest.

“And not enough,” I growl, reaching up and lowering her zipper. I skim the shorts down her hips, licking my lips at the smooth skin revealed. “Fucking gorgeous,” I purr, unable to keep from trailing the tip of my finger along her lower belly. “Liz… baby… don’t tell me to slow down,” I whisper huskily. Then I slip my finger inside, brushing across her slick heat.

“Oh God!” she cries, writhing beneath my touch. “God!”

Despite the seriousness of this moment, I can’t resist teasing her. “Call me Max.”

She gasps, then sighs in aggravated humor. “Oh, you’re so predictable.”

“I know… I know, I really am,” I murmur shamelessly, biting my lip as I ply her swollen folds.

“Oh, God!”

“Oh…if you insist,” I groan, and with my free hand I jerk the tiny elastic band forward until it splits with a pop. I’m momentarily startled, and meet Liz’s stunned gaze.

Okay, I know what everyone thinks of my reputation. The Stud of West Roswell. The thing is… I may come across as experienced in everything under the sun, but reality falls far below the fantasy. Truth is… this is all new territory to me. This is the furthest I’ve ever been with a woman.

And I just ripped Liz Parker’s panties.

“Uh… sorry about that,” I murmur gruffly, swallowing as I glance down at the tattered remains of lace and silk. “I hope they weren’t… expensive…”

She just keeps staring at me, face flushed and panting lightly. “You just ripped my panties.”

I feel a blush crawling up my own cheeks, and reach up to scratch my ear. “I said sorry,” I point out with a mumble.

“I can’t believe it,” she continues as though I hadn’t spoken. Head flopping back, she lets out a small sigh of wonder. “Max Evans just ripped my panties. This is… oh God, what am I doing?”

“Hey, I’m still here,” I jiggle her leg lightly, which succeeds in forcing the torn underwear to slide off, immediately grabbing my attention. Well, hell. “Oh… damn.”

Neither of us say a word. I just continue staring at the shadowed crown of her thighs, feeling sweat begin to bead on my brow. I glance up to see her frozen and watching me with thinly veiled horror. I can see reality protruding its ugly head into our cloud of desire, yet I can also sense the arousal that still aches within her. Because I feel it, too.

“Hey,” I whisper, leaning over to kiss her. She relaxes gradually, until she’s melting in my arms again. I lick along the curve of her lower lip before shifting lower to slide my tongue along her neck. I take the time to kiss each breast, moistening each peak with my tongue and then blowing gently on them, watching in mesmerization as they stiffen and protrude.

My hands come up to manipulate her breasts as I trail my mouth even lower, nuzzling her lower belly and dipping my tongue lightly inside the dimple of her navel. She gasps, then moans as she realizes my plan. “Max… wait…”

“I want to,” I respond roughly, lifting my head to stare at her from dark eyes. I lick my lips, knowing they must gleam with moisture in the moonlight. “Let me make you feel good, Parker.”

The teasing moniker seems to lend an air of comfort to her, as she slowly nods and lets her head fall back, even as her stomach tenses when my head lowers once again. I brush a light kiss along her hip, catching the first trace of her scent. God, it makes my mouth water.

By now I’m settled between her legs and gazing at her intently. Over the heavy beating of my heart I hear her gasping for breath above me, her legs tightening a margin against the breadth of my shoulders as I gently grasp her thighs, holding her open.

“Max, I don’t know if I can…” she trails off as I draw my tongue along the slick cleft. Her hips arch forward and she lets out a keening moan that sends waves of blood to my own thickening arousal.

I shift to a more comfortable position, spreading her wider as I lick and nibble her flesh, grunting hungrily as the taste of her fills my nostrils, my mouth. I can feel her tensing in preparation of her orgasm and I slide the tip of my middle finger inside of her, groaning aloud as her tight warmth closes around me, trying to draw me deeper.

“Oh, hell Liz,” I whisper achingly, touching the tip of my tongue to her stiff clit. I may not have done this before, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out where she wants to be touched.

Sure enough, as my lips close around her, my finger pumping sleekly, she stiffens then bows nearly off the seat as she begins to contract around my finger. Her hands fall limply to my head, holding me close as she rides out what I know must be her first climax. I’m filled with an embarrassing amount of masculine pride to know that it was me that gave her this gift.

When her undulations decrease to small pulses, I kiss her inner thigh before crawling up to brush a kiss across her forehead. “That’s how hot I think you are,” I whisper wickedly into her ear, as she breathes heavily. “Don’t doubt me again, Parker.”

<center>Chapter Six</center>

~Liz~

I’m a slut.

Why else would I let Max Evans go down on me on our first date?

Yes, I am a ho-bag of epic proportions and you know what…you couldn’t fucking blast this grin off my face with a stick of dynamite!

Getting past my dad was an adventure. I’m sure my face was the color of a ripe tomato and my expounding of “really, really great!” with his every ensuing question probably threw him off a bit but he seemed satisfied that my virtue was still in tact. Just barely…but he didn’t need to know that. Still, I had enough in me to give him my sweetest, good-girl daughter smile before drifting upstairs to my room and flopping across my bed.

I turn over onto my stomach now and press my face into my pillow, reliving every single, hot detail. God…I can still feel his tongue running over me…his breath…his hands… I groan in remembrance. That was definitely the most erotic experience of my life. Of course, afterwards it was a little awkward. There was part of me that wanted to return the favor and touch my mouth to the secret parts of him as well but there was another part, the sensible part that had reasserted itself once sexual desire wasn’t blinding me, that thought we’d gone too far.

I wonder that same thing presently. Had we gone too far? This is Max Evans after all. I’m sure he’s had plenty of practice doing what we did tonight but for me this has been an evening of firsts. First real kiss, first make-out session, first time doing anything remotely close to making love. Tonight wasn’t just about thrills for me.

But I can’t deny the small part of me that’s wondering: does he still respect me? I’d say yes, if the goodnight kiss he gave me on the porch is any indication. And he did promise to call. But then…don’t they all say that? Hell, I don’t know. I’m like Rain Man when it comes to these sorts of things. Give me a scientific formula I can figure it out for you…no problem. Give me a boy (read Max Evans)…I turn into Retardo from the planet Retard.

Okay, so maybe the grin’s waning a little… But then that changes when my phone rings to life and the caller i.d. screen lights with his number. I can’t snatch it up fast enough.

“Hey, Evans,” I breathe out shakily.

“Hey, Parker,” he whispers back, “You thinking about me?”

“No,” I brazen, “You thinking about me?”

“Hell, no,” he guffaws, “What’s your name again?”

We both laugh at his lame joke but it’s pretty evident there’s some latent tension between us. It practically crackles through the phone line. I grow twitchy with anticipation, hoping he’ll say something and wanting to break the ice myself. Finally, I sigh, “So about tonight…”

“About tonight…”

“Yeah,” I mumble, “So that was sort of…intense…”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice falling so low it’s nothing more than a vibrating whisper, “I want you to know that…I’ve never done that before.”

I grip the phone tighter and I’m surprised it doesn’t snap in half. “What?”

“Gone down on a girl.”

“Oh…but you’ve gone down on guys before,” I joke, hoping to distract myself from the fact my heart has just found a new home in my throat.

“Hardee-har-har, Parker,” he grouses, “You really are a smart ass.”

“So we’ve established,” I return glibly, “Now do you really expect me to believe you’ve never…um…done that before?”

“Never,” he swears emphatically, “You’re the first.”

I don’t know what to say. I’m Max Evans’ first experience with oral sex. That’s a little daunting to know, but exciting as well. In some convoluted way, it’s like we lost our virginities together tonight…er…well, at least some aspect of our virginity.

But now I’m back to being nervous again. This was his first time, right? What if he decided he didn’t like it all so much? When I thought he was experienced and knew what he was doing the knowledge had taken some of the pressure off me. I was the one who had to contend with possible regret. Yet, I’m considering for the first time that he might regret it and the thoughts ties my stomach in knots.

My uncertainty and curiosity driving me, I blurt, “So what did you think?”

“What did I think?” he parrots blankly.

I clear my throat and nibble at my lower lip. “Yeah…you know about…”

“…About going down on you?” he finishes softly.

“Yeah,” I confirm in acute mortification. Honestly, my entire body is a human torch. I’m surprised the bed sheets don’t go up in flames. It’s one thing to have a guy’s mouth in between your legs but it’s another matter entirely to have a frank discussion about it. Why don’t I think before I speak?

“I liked it,” he says, surprising me, “I think you taste--,”

“—Oh god,” I groan.

“—really good.”

“Max?” It feels like his name is being wrenched from my chest. There’s so much I want to say to him, so much confusing stuff that I’m feeling but I can’t put it into words. The words are all a jumble in my head. The only phrase I can form coherently is his name. And I do. Often.

“Liz,” he interrupts softly and I can hear the intensity in his voice, “You know…you know what you asked me tonight?”

“What?”

“When…when you asked me to make love to you,” he clarifies softly, “Did you mean it or was that just…you know…a heat of the moment kind of thing?”

“I meant it,” I confess gruffly, frightened and excited to know where this line of questioning is leading.

“I want that, too,” he whispers, “Baby, you don’t know how much I want to. But we don’t have to rush into anything. I don’t expect it. I just want to get to know you better. We’ve got time for the rest.”

A goofy grin spreads across my face. “You really mean that?”

He laughs. “I’ve been having mock conversations with you in my head for the last three years. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Okay,” I reply, settling more comfortably into my bed, “What do you want to know about me? And none of that inane favorite color, favorite band nonsense. Ask me something real.”

“Something real,” he considers solemnly and there’s a beat of silence as he thinks my challenge over. “Okay,” he says finally, “If you’ve liked me all this time then why did you always act like you didn’t?”

That’s a seemingly simple question but with no simple answer. So I’ve thought all this time that I was above the foolish high school games girls play. However, it just dawns on me that I’ve been playing a game all this time in an effort to protect my pride. I didn’t want to be like all the other girls in my school; tripping all over themselves just to have Max Evans smile their way. He may have distracted me to all hell but that didn’t mean he had to know it so I pretended to despise him. A fact I hadn’t considered bothered him at all until this second.

“You know…I never meant any of those things I said about you,” I tell him, “It’s just that… I liked you so much…but I didn’t want to like you.”

“Oh…I get it,” he says a little glumly, “You couldn’t see yourself with a jock.”

“No, that’s not it,” I deny, “I just didn’t ever think you would see me.”

“Damn, Parker,” he chuckles, “For a brain you can sure be dumb sometimes.”

“Thanks,” I retort dryly, “That flattery just rolls right off your tongue, doesn’t it, Evans?”

“No, I’m serious,” he insists, “You’re smart. You’re beautiful. You’ve got this totally brilliant future ahead of you. You don’t have a problem with being noticed…trust me.”

“How do you know all the right things to say,” I whisper.

“It’s easy when they’re true.”

“Stop,” I giggle girlishly.

“No, you stop,” he says, “Obviously you haven’t been paid enough compliments in your life, Parker. I’m going to make up for that.”

“Are you?” I purr.

“Damned straight.”

“So…now that you have some insight into my inner most workings, what about you, Max Evans?” I ask, “What makes you tick?”

“Besides you?”

“Don’t joke,” I tell him, “I wanna know. Why did you never approach me before?”

“It might have had a little something to do with the fact you seemed to think I was a moron,” he laughs, “I didn’t think my odds were good.”

“So you’re saying I was my own worst enemy?”

“Pretty much.”

“Great.”

“That’s all water under the bridge now,” he dismisses grandly, “We’re together now and that’s what matters.”

“We’re together,” I echo with another girlish twitter, “Are we together, Max?” Mentally, I’m slapping myself over my endless simpering but I can hardly help myself. Max Evans makes me giggly.

“Yeah…I mean…if you want to be.”

“Yes…yeah,” I whisper vigorously, “I want to be.”

“Well, good.”

“Great.” Here we go with the eloquent conversation again. We’ve definitely got a future in one-word t-shirt slogans.

“I guess I should let you go then,” he says, “It’s getting sort of late…”

“Are you tired?” I rush out before he can finish.

“No. Are you?”

“No,” I reply, “I’m wide awake.”

“Where are you right now?”

“I’m in bed,” I answer, “Why? Where are you?”

“Same place,” he tells me, “Are you in your pajamas already?”

“Yeah,” I reply, my voice catching a little at the question. Suddenly, a hundred thoughts are tumbling through my head at once and all of them involve a very naked Max Evans. At the mere mention of pajamas? God, I’m sick. I make an attempt to redirect my thoughts towards a more wholesome venue. “Are you in your pajamas?” I ask and…let me just say that doesn’t help. I get another flood of images, more lurid than the first.

“Not yet,” he answers, his tone oddly gruff. And then he laughs. “I wonder what kind of pajamas Liz Parker wears to bed.”

“If you’re waiting for me to say a lace teddy and a thong you can hang it up, my friend,” I joke, “Not this girl.”

“Then what?” he laughs.

“T-shirt and baggy sweats.”

He mock growls at me. “Oooh that’s sexy, Parker.”

“Shut up,” I snort back, “What do you wear then?”

“Nothing,” he reveals dramatically, “Not a single thing.”

“I don’t believe you. You so do not sleep in the buff, Max Evans!”

“It’s rather liberating.”

“You’re so full of it!”

“Have you ever tried it?” he challenges boldly.

“No!”

“Why don’t you?” he invites in a sultry murmur, “I won’t tell anyone.”

“It would be too weird,” I protest even though I’m already considering it, “So I’m just supposed to take my clothes off?”

“Yeah.”

“And climb beneath the covers…nude?”

“Exactly.”

I huff a sigh of self-exasperation and roll my eyes towards the ceiling. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this.” I quickly shed my clothes before I lose my nerve altogether. My t-shirt and sweats are promptly joined by my panties and socks in a clump on the floor next to my bed. Max is right. It is sort of liberating. My entire body tingles. Just naked flesh and cool sheets. Unfortunately, it’s pretty arousing, too.

His honeyed tone sweeps my ears seconds later, breathless with anticipation and something else. “Are you naked yet?” he asks gruffly.

“Yeah,” I whisper, “What now?”

*pokes head in*

Okay, I guess I'm up again. Just wanted to add my thanks to Cristine for the lovely banner, make sure to check it out on the title page guys! Also wanted to ask Stef about the latest on whether or not she's going to go to her graduation party. Well, Stef? What's the scoop? And for the record... I think RJ likes you, too. Just from what you've told me and what you've posted about your situation. And I'm rarely wrong, sweetie. Something to think about...


<center>Chapter Seven</center>


~Max~


“You’re naked,” I repeat, just in case I had made her reply up in my mind. This is a situation I’ve dreamed about so many times… I wouldn’t be at all surprised if it ended up being a figment of my poor, tainted imagination.

Granted, I don’t usually imagine anything about a phone… it’s normally more along the lines of what occurred earlier tonight. And God, if that doesn’t up the perverted thoughts already racing through my mind.

I’m still a little shell-shocked at what happened between Liz and I. After spending so many years believing the girl I adored thought I was only slightly more intelligent than a pile of pigeon shit… well, it never crossed my mind that she would actually agree to go out with me. Much less let me do the things I did to her in the darkness.

God, I can still taste her… still feel her thighs clenching against my cheeks as I slide my tongue across her slick flesh. Who would have guessed my first truly sexual experience would consist of going down on Liz Parker in my Jeep behind a deserted office building?

“Yes… I’m naked, Max,” I hear her say breathlessly. “So…”

“So.” I swallow heavily, trying not to let my hand drift down to the ever-growing hardness rising in my lap. “How does it feel?” I ask huskily, unable to squelch the image of her, dusky, golden skin and luscious curves spread out on top of her bed. Talking to me.

“It feels…” I hold my breath as she trails off, my eyes closing in order to hold onto the vision in my mind. “It feels… arousing,” she finishes in a shaky whisper.

“Arousing,” I echo, throat working to produce coherent vocabulary. “Arousing… how?” Unable to resist, I let my free hand wander until my fist circles my groin. I’m so hard I hurt, and coupled with the fact that despite all the action of the evening I never managed to find release, has me stretched so tight that a few simple pumps could send me straight over the edge.

“How…?” she asks in an uncertain tone. How she could be shy with me after I had my face buried between her legs is beyond me, but that’s one of the things I love so much about her. Like. One of the things I like about her. Christ.

“Keep your cool, Evans,” I mutter to myself, my hands suddenly shaky. No reason to freak out… it was just a passing thought. An utterly insane passing thought. No matter that I feel like I really might-“

“Did you say something?”

“What?” I shake my head, returning my attention to our conversation. “No… I mean, yes.” I press my lips together and wince theatrically at my less-than-stellar performance. “You said you were aroused?” I add gruffly.

“Well… yes, I guess I am,” she whispers. “I mean, I don’t have much experience in knowing… not like you, anyway.”

“That’s not true,” I say automatically. I really don’t want this misunderstanding hanging over our heads. “Liz, I’m not as experienced as you and everyone else think.”

There’s silence for a minute, then she snorts. “Okay, Max. If you say so.”

A frown begins to settle on my lips at her disbelieving tone. “I’m not,” I state more firmly. “Half of the stuff going around is a load of crap, and the other half… well, let’s just say it’s extremely exaggerated, okay?”

“Max… it’s okay,” she twitters, and I can hear her shifting over the line. “I… I don’t expect you to be… you know…”

“No, I don’t,” I state softly. “Explain it to me.”

“I don’t expect you to be… an innocent virgin,” she snaps. “Like me. I know you had a life before we got together, and I’m okay with it.”

Her tone has gone from light and breathy to hard and defensive. I raise a brow in skepticism. “You are,” I mock. “Wow, Parker… I guess that’s why you nearly bit my head off just then, huh?”

She makes a sound, then sighs. “Look, Max… I’m not exactly comfortable talking about this, okay? I’d rather… not know who else you’ve… you know,” she ends in a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

I feel everything inside of me go soft and gooey like melting ice cream as I catch the tremble in her voice. “Oh, baby…” I whisper achingly. “You don’t have to worry, okay? I promise.”

She doesn’t answer, but I can sense the uncertainty coming off of her in thick waves. It’s on the tip of my tongue to just blurt out the truth – that I’ve never been with anyone the way I was with her. That I’ve never wanted to.

But before I can add anything more, she blurts out, “I’m so hot.”

My mouth falls open and I blink several times. “Oh… okay.” Then a mischievious grin curves my lips at her attempt to change the subject. There’s plenty of time for her to realize the truth. For now, she wants to play… we’ll play. “Glad you finally agree,” I purr darkly, sliding my palm down my thick shaft.

It takes her a moment, then she sighs. “Oh, here we go…”

“And how hot are you, Liz?” I continue, sucking in a breath as my fingers brush across the head of my cock. “Do you need another demonstration?”

I expect her to back off and say something snarky that will dispel the growing sexual tension. Instead, she surprises me yet again. “Maybe,” she answers softly. “What… what sort of demonstration?”

I let out a soft groan, my head sinking further into the pillows as I force my hand to still. “Well… “ I hedge gruffly, feeling like a miniature devil on her shoulder. Time to sin, baby. “There is something we could try…”

“What is it?” she aks quickly, her breath light and excited.

I take a deep breath and plunge forward. “You could touch yourself… and pretend it’s me.”

For a long moment the only sound to be heard is our heavy breathing. I’m ready to open my mouth and take it back, when she utters a soft, “Okay.”

Everything male inside me stands up at attention. “O… okay?” my voice cracks and I clear my throat. “Okay, then.” For God’s sake, I sound like a pre-pubescent.

“Okay.”

“Great.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Okay.”

“Max?”

“What?” I clutch the phone, feeling like an idiot but unable to concentrate beyond the throbbing in my groin and the blood pounding in my head.

“What… what do I do?” she whispers self-consciously.

“Oh. Well, I uh…” I swallow, taking a few deep breaths and firmly pressing my hand against my thigh. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” she giggles in mortification. “I guess you want me to believe you’ve never done… this either?”

“Phone sex?” I ask bluntly, chuckling when she lets out a little gasp. “Isn’t that what we’re talking about here, Parker?”

“Well… I guess so.”

“No, I’ve never done it before,” I admit quietly. “But I want to with you. So why don’t you go back to telling me how much you like being naked in that big, lonely bed?”

By now, my cock has obviously taken over my brain.

“Well, I…” she sputters, and the sound only succeeds in making me feel that much more powerful. Liz Parker, the girl who won a spelling bee in fifth grade by spelling the word endonuclease, has been reduced to stammering by lab-monkey Max Evans.

“I wish I was there with you,” I continue in a low tone, closing my eyes as I stroke my erection again. “God, I can just imagine how absolutely gorgeous you would be. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from kissing every inch of you, Parker. You’re like a fucking addiction.”

Her breath has picked up during my dreamy dialogue. “Really?” she asks breathily. “Mm… Max…”

“Where are your hands?” I ask suddenly, shifting onto my side as I continue to pump myself.

“My hands?” she echoes shakily. “Well, one’s holding the phone, course.”

“And the other?” I murmur huskily.

“The other is… well, it’s… Max, I can’t,” she whispers shamefully. “I… I’m not good at this. I can’t try to be sexy.”

“You don’t have to try, you just are,” I answer gruffly. “Where’s your hand, baby? Tell me.”

“It’s… between my legs,” she gasps, sending a tidal wave of lust over me at that tender mewling sound. “Oh, Max…”

“That’s it,” I murmur, falling back as my hand slides along my length, sweat beginning to form on my nude body. “Oh, God, Liz… that’s me touching you. Can you feel it?”

“Yes,” she moans, dragging forth a groan from my own throat as she gasps. “I can feel it, Max. Oh my God!”

“Liz,” I say thickly, my tongue feeling heavy as I feel the approach of my climax. “I want to make love to you so much, baby. When we do, it will be so good. I’m going to take my time and worship every fucking inch of you, babe. Every… inch…”

“Max!”

I open my mouth to cry out her name as well, when I catch sight of a pair of dark brown eyes gazing at me. “Sophia!” I call out instead, unaware that in my surprise it sounds as if I’m losing myself in the throes of ecstasy.

“—what?” Liz’s confused voice sounds after a second. “Did you say Sophia?”

Oh, shit. I hiss at the fat cat currently watching me through bored eyes, shoving her off the bed as I attempt to salvage the situation. “No… well, yes, but Liz-“

“Who,” she interrupts coolly, “is Sophia?”

I must be a complete bastard, because the blatant jealousy in her voice is enough to make me want to do naked cartwheels in the middle of the street. “My sister’s cat,” I chuckle. “Sorry… it’s kind of weird to get off while someone’s watching you. Even if they have whiskers and a furry tail.” I frown. “Especially then.”

I can tell she has no idea what to say, so I slide in smoothly with, “So where were we? Oh yeah… you were about to come around me, right baby?”

“Oh my God…”

“You say that a lot,” I note in aroused amusement. “Is it just me that makes you feel so religious?”

She sputters indignantly, but is unable to keep from giggling. “You are so full of yourself, Max Evans.”

“I’d rather you be full of me,” I admit huskily. “I’m so close, baby. Come with me…”

My hand vigorously strokes my cock as I listen to her breathy moans of excitement. “Liz… Liz I have to tell you,” I gasp as my erection twitches at the onset of orgasm. “I…”

“Maaaxx…” she keens and I know she’s beat me there.

“Oh yeah,” I cry out, my mind scrambling as my climax washes over me like a flood of pleasure. “It’s never felt this… good…”

<center>Chapter Eight</center>

~Liz~

“So you didn’t call me last night,” Maria accuses me, plopping down onto a stool as I mercilessly scrub down the counter. Oblivious to my efforts to clean, she props her elbows onto the surface and regards me with speculative green eyes. “What happened?”

I level her with a meaningful glare, avoiding the question altogether. “Maria, I’m a little busy.”

She does a doubletake. “Wait a second…are you blowing me off?”

“Maria,” I hedge, uncomfortable under her stare, “I’m working here.”

In her usual unaffected manner, however, Maria shrugs. “So what? We always talk while you’re at work,” she replies glibly, “Now stop avoiding the question. What happened between you and Max Evans?”

“You know this really is none of your business,” I brazen.

Her mouth falls over before she covers it with a theatrical gasp. “Oh my God,” she utters, “You kissed him, didn’t you? That’s why you’re acting so jumpy. I don’t believe you! After everything we talked about you went ahead and kissed him anyway!”

Her allegation brings with it a series of images that go tumbling through my mind, unbidden. I don’t just remember that first hot kiss Max and I shared before leaving for the game, but the torrid make out session at the movies, the way he ran his tongue over my body when we were in his jeep afterwards and the downright risqué phone conversation we had later that night. Kissing…hah! That’s fucking tame compared to what we actually did. My cheeks warm just thinking about it.

“Oh my God,” Maria whispers again when she spies my very evident blush, “You did more than kiss him, didn’t you?” My blush heightens despite my best endeavor to maintain a bland facade. “Lizzie…I…oh my god!” she cries in exasperated annoyance, “So you let him go to second base?” My blush darkens. “Third base,” Maria demands incredulously. I’m sure my cheeks look poised for explosion by this point. “Oh god, Lizzie, please don’t tell me you let him slide home!”

“Maria, calm down,” I grate, aware of the several curious glances she’s garnered with her outburst, “Okay…first of all, my love life is not a baseball game and, second, I don’t want it broadcasted to the entire Crashdown! My father is standing less than three feet away.”

“Did you fuck him?” Maria hisses irately, “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“No,” I whisper back, caught between wanting to blush and wanting to throttle her, “No, I did not fuck him. But…if I did…it wouldn’t be any of your business.”

She just grunts at my response. “I thought you wanted to be more than another notch on his belt, Lizzie.”

“Maria, please…”

“I’m just concerned for you, okay!” she insists in a low tone, “I don’t want to see you get your heart broken, Liz.”

I hate to admit it but her comments flood me with insecurity. “You really think he’s going to break my heart?” I wonder glumly.

“I don’t know, Liz,” she sighs, “He’s just one of those guys…”

“One of ‘those guys’?” I question, “What kind of guy is that?”

“Come on…you know…the pretty people,” she clarifies, “Liz, people like us do not mix with people like them.”

“And what kind of people are we exactly?” I query dryly.

“The eccentrics, the geeks, the nerds…that’s us, babe. Max Evans is out of our league.”

“But he asked me out,” I point out to her, almost desperately, too, “And he seemed to have a good enough time with me last night. He even called me when he got home. We’re going out again tomorrow night.”

“Well, second date. Hmm…I guess that’s a good sign,” Maria considers, “As long as you don’t let him sample the goods. Once a guy like Max Evans gets you into bed that’s what it’s all about. You know what they say about him in the girls’ locker room. Tammy Curtis says he’s totally insatiable in bed. And you see what happened with her. She and Max were together for, like, a split second. Just be careful with him, girl.”

Five minutes of conversation with her and I’m back to stomach churning doubt. Now what I did with Max Evans last night takes on an entirely negative meaning. This morning when I woke up I had relived each detail with a nostalgic smile. It had all seemed so sweet and romantic and…innocent. But now I wonder if this is part of some elaborate plan Max has to get me into bed. Maria has a point. I know his reputation with girls. He goes through them like tissue. In the entire time we’ve gone to school together I’ve never know Max to have a steady girlfriend. Should I be naïve enough to believe he’s going to end his streak with me? It’s not as if I’ve made myself a challenge for him.

However, my heart wages war with my head. I can’t forget the things he said to me last night, or rather, how he had said them. Max had seemed so sincere and as confused by his feelings for me as I was by my feelings for him. After our…um…dalliance on the phone last night we had talked to each other for nearly two hours more. Wouldn’t he have ended the conversation right after the sex if that were all he wanted? I really don’t know anymore and the uncertainty is scaring me to death. My heart wants to believe him; my head tells me I’m being an idiot.

I resume wiping the countertop, half-hearted now, my mind and heart weighed down with doubt. “You still haven’t told me what happened,” Maria persists, as I get lost in my brooding thoughts.

“God, Maria…give me a break!” I huff in irritation.

“So what are we talking about?” Alex queries, materializing from out of nowhere and plopping down onto the empty stool beside Maria. I groan internally. As if Maria wasn’t bad enough…now they both will be ganging up on me. Lovely.

“I’m trying to get Lizzie to tell me how her date with Max Evans went,” Maria recounts to Alex, “But she’s being all tight-lipped about it.”

“Oh…so that wasn’t just a rumor after all,” Alex guffaws in surprise, “You really went out with Mr. ‘I’m so hot all the girls want my bod’ himself, huh?”

“And he asked her out,” Maria clarifies.

Alex gapes, much the way Maria did earlier. “Is the sky falling?”” he jokes, “Meathead asked you out on a date, not the other way around?”

“He’s not a meathead!” I retort hotly, “He’s a sensitive, intelligent guy who happens to be a lot of fun!”

“Wow…” Alex whistles, taken aback by my vehemence, “Sounds like someone’s fallen.”

“Uh…did the claws just come out or what?” Maria teases dryly.

Now I feel like a complete idiot for flying off the handle. This is, after all, typical conversation between us. Alex and Maria aren’t the ones who have changed, I am. “I’m sorry…” I sigh, “I didn’t mean to bite your head off…it’s just… You guys don’t know him. He’s really a great guy.”

“Does that mean your date went well then?” Maria asks slyly.

“Maria, I’m not talking to you about this,” I reply in a singsong tone. I heft a nearby bus tub from the counter and neatly tuck it away on the bottom shelf.

“Well, maybe I should ask Max,” Maria drawls above my head, “He’s coming this way.”

“What?” I cry, jumping up with such a start that I bang the top of my head hard enough to see stars, “Ow…dammit!” My humiliation over this is complete, however, when I note Max’s answering smirk as he strides toward me. He’s seen the whole thing and his lips are rolled inward as he bites down against laughing. I check myself mid-action in rubbing the tender spot while my friends snicker at me behind their hands. I’m seriously contemplating hiding altogether when I notice what’s in his hands: a single, perfect white rose.

“You okay,” he asks with a grin, “That looked like it hurt.”

I knock my fist against my forehead. “I’ve got a real hard head,” I say then promptly wince because I can’t believe such ridiculous statement left my mouth. But Max seems fine with it. He just stands there smiling at me like I’m the most perfect creature he’s ever beheld. I feel that way when he looks at me and all my fears and insecurities melt away.

“Hey you,” he breathes, leaning closer.

I can feel Alex and Maria’s gazes on me the entire time. They are watching me so intensely that I feel the need to squirm. For the most part, however, I do my best to ignore their nosy inspection. “Hey,” I return, slightly flustered, “Is that for me?” I nod towards the rose.

“None other,” he answers, extending the flower towards me, “I remembered last night how you said that white roses were your favorite. I had to go to four different florist shops before I found it.”

I inhale the sweet scent of the petals and heft a dreamy sigh. “Oh…Max…this is so sweet.”

“I would have bought you a dozen but….” He scratches his brown in laughing chagrin. “No soy el dinero.” We share a laugh at that, like it’s an inside joke.

Off to my left, Alex clears his throat loudly. I shoot him a sideways glare that says, “beat it.” He clears his throat again and I make a mental note to strangle him later. Left with little choice I make the introductions, which seem rather absurd seeing as how we’ve all gone to school with each other for the past four years now. “Max, these are my friends, Alex and Maria. Friends, this is Max.”

Max seems reluctant to take his eyes from my face but he politely shakes both my friends’ hands and regards them with a charming smile. “I know you, Whitman,” he says, “Weren’t you on the debate team last year or something?”

“Yeah…” Alex confirms, “Just another geek in a faceless sea of geeks.”

“Hey, nothing wrong with being a geek,” Max returns flippantly, shooting me a secret smile, “My best girl happens to be one, too.”

“Your best girl, huh?” Maria speculates blandly, “That wouldn’t happen to be our Lizzie, now would it?”

I’m sensing disaster so I jump right in with the save. “Um…Max, why don’t we go upstairs so I can put this rose--,”

I’m too late. “You hurt her and I’ll break your balls,” Maria states succinctly.

Oh God, kill me now! “—in water,” I finish lamely before clearing my throat, “Thank you, Maria.”

“It’s cool, Liz. I’m not offended,” Max tells me before addressing Maria again, “And…I’m not going to hurt her, okay. But…uh…I’ll be sure to keep the ball-breaking in mind.”

“Come on,” I groan, snagging hold of his wrist and dragging him down to the far end of the counter and away from my friends, “We’ll go upstairs and put my rose in water. At least there you won’t have to endure these unwarranted threats on your manhood.”

We barely clear the front door of my apartment before we’re tangled in each other’s arms. The rose drops from my fingers as Max angles me back into the wall, his mouth slanting over mine fiercely. The gentle way he cradles my face is in direct contrast with the rough way he presses against my lower body. His fingers bite into my thighs, pushing them apart so that he can fit himself between them. I moan when I feel his hardness fits perfectly into the center of me. I pump into his hips once, twice… His lips scour my cheek and jaw and neck.

“I didn’t come here for this,” he grates into my skin, nipping at my throat, “I swear…”

I work to push his jacket from his shoulders, locking my legs around his waist so that he can’t escape. “Don’t stop,” I gasp, “Don’t…”

Max jerks upright suddenly. “How’s your head?” he asks.

“My head? Oh…Max, that doesn’t even matter right now,” I pant, yanking him by the collar so that our lips can crash together again.

And that’s exactly how my dad finds us.

We spring apart in guilty surprise as the door yawns open, our faces crimson with shock and mortification. “Daddy,” I squeak, “Hi!”

“Lizzie…you have customers downstairs,” he informs me calmly, “Get back to the café right now.”

“Max gave me a rose, Dad!” I chirp lamely, babbling in my panic. I bend to quickly scoop up the fallen flower. “See! We were going to put it in water!” He glares at me. “We weren’t doing anything wrong! It was just a kiss!”

“Downstairs…now, Liz,” he enunciates loudly, glaring at Max all the while.

My boyfriend gulps audibly. And, panic aside for a moment, that’s so nice to say. Hmm… My boyfriend. Has a nice ring to it. Okay, panicking again. “I’m gonna go downstairs now,” I acquiesce meekly, “Max, how about you come with me?”

“I’m sure Max has other places to go,” my dad interjects glacially, “Don’t you, Max?”

“Um…yeah…yes, sir.”

“Get there,” is my father’s commanding whisper. We meet eyes briefly before Max scurries through the front door in unconcealed fright. Only when he’s gone do my knees begin to knock. My father plucks me by the arm and begins leading me downstairs. “We have some things to talk about, Liz,” he tells me ominously as we reenter the café, “After your shift.”

Whoo! I feel like a posting queen today, lol! Enjoy guys...

Hugs.

Linds



<center>Chapter Nine</center>


~Max~


“So the parental unit caught you?” Michael asks as I hold my head in my hands. My "best friend" is laughing his ass off at my predicament, all the while wolfing down an order of Space Fries. I wickedly wish for him to choke so I can perform the Heimlich by driving my fist into his stomach.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating Liz Parker, Max,” my sister Isabel says in disdain, flipping her long-lengthed blonde hair over one perfect shoulder. “I mean… she’s a geek. Ew.”

I glance back over at the door where Liz ominously disappeared fifteen minutes ago after her shift ended. Don’t ask me why I stuck around this whole time… maybe it had to do with Gigantigor watching me through those beady black eyes like he expected me to tuck tail and run.

Well, I’ll be damned if I let my girlfriend’s father think I’m a pussy. I’ll talk to him and let him know just how much I like and respect his daughter… even if the entire time I’m wishing I had tucked tail and ran.

“She’s not a geek, Iz,” I mumble, turning back to watch them across the booth. “And it doesn’t matter anyway… we’re together and it’s none of your business, okay?”

She pouts momentarily, then her eyes grow crafty. “Did you know that Tammy’s single again? She and Tommy Bolin broke up last week. I know she’d love to get back together with you, Max.”

Oh, I just bet she would. My five-minute relationship with Tammy consisted of one date, a little on-top-of-the-clothing groping, and then me spending the rest of the night wishing I had a crow bar to pry her away from me. Whoever told the world that guys didn’t mind being treated like a piece of meat obviously never spent the evening with Tammy Curtis.

“Hmm… I’m thinking no,” I answer sarcastically, rolling my eyes when Isabel’s face falls.

“Oh come on, Max. You can’t really be serious about Little Miss Scientist. She’s always got her head in a book, and her friends are really creepy. Take that Alec guy. He’s like, always staring at me. Like I said, creepy.” She shudders for emphasis and I catch Michael’s eye and make a face.

“I dunno,” he drawls, stuffing another fry into his mouth. “That Maria girl is kinda hot. I’d do her.”

“You’d do anything with two legs and a mouth to scream with,” Isabel shoots back.

“No, that’s where you’re wrong,” Michael corrects her with one finger. “I’d prefer them not to be able to speak at all.”

I can sense Isabel’s ire being raised at Michael’s teasing, and quickly step in to mediate. “I’m with Liz, end of story. So don’t try sending your hordes of cheerleader friends over to the house because they 'forgot their history notes' or some shit, Iz,” I say pointedly.

“I wouldn’t do that,” she sniffs, but the look in her eyes says otherwise. I’m about to call her on it, when I catch a glimpse of Liz’s father emerge from the kitchen. I set my shoulders and take a deep breath.

“I’ll be back,” I mutter, standing and walking towards Gigantigor as if towards my death. He catches sight of me halfway there, and his lips pull into a frown as he crosses his arms and awaits my arrival.

“Mr. Parker,” I begin, hoping I’m not sweating beneath his narrowed gaze. “I… I’d like to talk to you for a moment. Sir.”

He simply raises a thick brow and studies me in a way that makes me feel like he caught us in the middle of doing the deed against the deep fryer. Jesus, it was just a little kissing! Okay… my hand might have been inside her uniform… oh God! I’m lucky if he doesn’t castrate me. Suddenly I’m rethinking this whole “talking” thing. Tucking tail and running is looking pretty good. Yup.

Too late, as he takes my arm and pulls me into a side office, shutting the door ominously behind us. “Yes, I think we need to have a talk, Max,” he states in a pleasant enough tone. If only he weren’t glaring at me like he’d like to take the golf club laying across the room and ram it straight up my ass.

“Mr. Parker,” I begin in what I hope is a confident tone, and not one that screams Don’t hurt me! I’m only eighteen! I still have so much to live for!

“Oh, please… call me Jeff,” he says, surprising me into silence. Then he continues with, “After all, you seem to be on such intimate terms with members of this family, I thought it only appropriate.”

Well, shit. I clear my throat. “Sir… Jeff… I just want you to know that what you saw was completely innocent.” His eyes darken and I hurry on with, “I realize what it must have looked like, but I want you to know that it wasn’t Liz’s fault. It was mine.” Oh, smooth move Einstein. Now what? Want to go over and hand him the golf club?

He taps his finger against his leg, leaning back comfortably in a chair as he studies me. “Max… do you remember our little conversation about respect?”

Uh… was that a conversation? I don’t remember bringing anything in to make it a conversation. But I think I know the answer to this question. “Yes, sir.”

“So explain to me how putting your hands on my daughter in my place of business… in my home while she’s supposed to be working could possibly be respecting me or her?”

If this were a movie, this would be the moment the crickets would start chirping. As it is, I don’t even know what to say. But he’s watching me with those damn eyes, and I know if I have a prayer of dating Liz ever again I had better come up with something and it better be damn good. “You’re right, sir,” I finally say, and he looks surprised. “I completely disrespected both you and your daughter. I’m so sorry. I just… Liz is really special and she makes me feel… I don’t know. Special, too.”

I feel like an idiot when I finish, but he’s watching me speculatively now. “She makes you feel special? Or she makes you feel horny, Max?”

Oh, fuck. I squirm in my seat as he continues to await my answer. “Well… I…”

“What I’m trying to get across here, is that my daughter is not the kind of girl for you if all you’re interested in is whipping your dick out,” he states blandly. “Let’s not bullshit here, Max. You’re a teenage guy. You see a pretty girl like my Lizzie and the first thought in your head isn’t that you want to take her out for dinner and a movie.”

I wish I could say that it stops there.

“I’m sure there are plenty of girls interested in you if that’s what you want. And if it is, I expect you to do the right thing and stop seeing my daughter. I won’t have her demeaned that way, do you understand me?”

“Yes sir,” I answer immediately.

He eyes me a moment longer, then adds, “All right then. Don’t make me regret this conversation, Max. Or you’ll find that I’m not a nice guy.”

“Yes sir.”

With that, he nods his head towards the door and I stand up, feeling as though I’ve run a marathon. I leave without looking back, and almost run straight into Liz as I round the corner.

She stares at he with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “What did he say to you?” she hisses, looking mortified. If she only knew.

I glance over my shoulder, and seeing no one in sight I feel safe enough to cradle her face in my hands. Pressing a soft kiss against her brow, I reply, “Everything’s okay, Parker. Don’t go hyperventilating on me.”

“Ohh, I’m never going to live that down, am I?” she answers softly, but leans into my embrace. She looks up again with worried eyes. “Max, I’m so sorry…”

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” I place a finger against her lips. “I think I attacked you.”

We both stare at each other for a moment before we start laughing. “Oh my God… I thought I’d die!” she gasps, falling back against the wall.

“Me too,” I answer honestly. “But only because I thought your dad would kill me.”

“He wouldn’t!” she exclaims loyally. “I told you, he’s a teddybear.”

Yeah, a teddybear with an extremely menacing golf club. “Whatever you say, baby,” I chuckle, placing a light kiss against her lips. She immediately wraps her arms around my neck, trying to deepen the kiss but my conversation with her father is still too fresh in my mind.

She looks surprised when I pull away, and slightly vulnerable. “I don’t think it’s the best idea for us to get caught again,” I whisper, nuzzling my nose against hers. “I can’t seem to help myself around you, Liz.”

“I know,” she sighs. “I feel the same way.”

“You clumsy asshole!”

We both jump at the sound of an angered female voice, and glance towards the door leading into the café. Liz quickly makes her way over and I follow as I recognize the following voice with a feeling of dread.

“Hey, Blondie… it’s just ketchup. No need to go sniffing that vial like a coke fiend.”

Sure enough, when we walk inside Michael and Maria are squaring off at the cash out counter. I can tell my friend is struggling not to laugh as the petite blonde nashes her teeth together and inhales a small vial of essential oil. Isabel stands behind Michael, looking for all the world like she’s completely bored out of her mind. But I glimpse the amusement lurking in her eyes as she watches the scene unfold.

“Just ketchup?” Maria bites out in a low growl, shoving the vial into her pocket as she turns to gift Michael with a view of her backside. “Do you see this? Do you have any idea what it looks like?”

Liz gasps and throws a hand over her mouth, and I glance at her to see her valiantly trying not to laugh as well. I look back and my eyes about pop out as I see where the condiment managed to land.

Michael’s face actually turns as red as the ketchup. “Oh, shit… I’m really sorry,” he stammers, reaching up to scratch his ear. “I didn’t know you were going to sit there, okay?”

Maria glares at him, her jaw working before she throws her hands up and screeches, striding out of the café in a flash of blonde hair and hot words.

Alex, who was quietly standing by, sees this as his opportunity and clears his throat. “Hi, Isabel,” he says brightly, his smile not wavering as my sister turns and pins him with a blank expression.

“Oh, hi Alan,” she says flightily, then turns to grab Michael’s arm. “We’re leaving,” she sings and starts to drag him away as he stares after Maria’s departing figure.

“It’s Alex, actually!” Alex calls after her hopefully, sighing as she leaves the restaurant without responding. He glances over to see Liz and I and shrugs carelessly, rubbing a hand over his heart. “Ah, the curse of geekdom.”