She, the Kingdom (She #1)(36)

I sighed. “Max and Sophie will understand.”

I started the Lexus and pulled out of the parking lot, taking Amelia home first, and then parking in my drive. Max’s car was already in the street. I looked at my watch. He was early.

I stepped out, pausing for a moment in the dark. When he didn’t get out, I continued to my porch, and then unlocked my door. It felt good to take off my shoes, still damp from dancing and sweating in them earlier. Knowing Max would be in soon, I left the front door open and made my way to my bedroom. The house was quiet except for the air conditioning unit buzzing outside my bedroom window. I pulled my shirt over my head, and then peeled off my damp skinny jeans. My panties came with them, soaked from my three minutes on the dance floor with Colton. My bra loosened with a quick snap and I groaned, letting the lace fall to the floor. No better feeling.

I stepped behind the curtain, letting the lukewarm water wash off the salt, sweat, and smell of Colton’s cheap cologne. My feet were already sore from dancing, and my body was exhausted. I need to start running or something, holy hell. I hadn’t realized I was in such bad shape. Thinking about Colton and his dimple and the way he’d held me close while we’d danced made me wish I was still at the VFW, feeling like the star of his show. I’d fantasized about feeling that so many times in my life, and in less than five minutes, Colton Higgins had provided it.

After two knocks on the door, I heard Max’s sophisticated voice. A contrast from Colton’s slow, country drawl. “Morgan?”

“Yes?”

“I’m just here in the bedroom when you’ve finished.”

“You’re early.”

“I… was hoping to speak with you.”

“I’ll be right out.”

The door shut, and I rushed through shampooing my hair and rinsing off. I stepped out, slathered on the almond-milk lotion I was allowed to use, and brushed my teeth and hair, pulling the door open to see Max fully dressed and sitting at the end of my bed.

“Everything all right?” I asked.

His elbows were on his knees, his hands clasped together. He moved like he was about to say something, but didn’t.

“How did it go with Sophie this morning?” I asked.

“Not good.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, walking over to him. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he glanced at my fingers before staring at his hands.

“She was happy at first. I could hear her humming around the house, and she’s been getting more sleep. The last year of our marriage has really been tough. We moved to Kansas, which she was adamantly against, and then taking over the hospital and turning the financials around was difficult. I knew we’d get through it, though. I’ve been coming here nearly four weeks now, and she’s barely home. She wasn’t home this morning.”

“She wasn’t?” I blurted out. He’d left so early. “Maybe… she had an appointment?”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t been home all day. I’ve only heard from her via text.”

“Where’s she been?”

He shrugged. “Out. Lunch. Drinks with friends. Shopping. Dinner. Any prodding would set her off. Now that she’s rid of me at night, it seems she also wants to be rid of me during the day.”

“Maybe she isn’t happy with our arrangement after all? Maybe she thought she was, but now that she’s at home thinking about us… here…”

“No, she assures me she’s very happy. She was angry when I brought up terminating the agreement.”

My throat tightened. “Terminate our agreement?”

“You would still be paid until you found something else, Morgan.”

I was surprised how much his distant response hurt me. In the end, though, it was obvious Max loved Sophie. I was an employee, and it was selfish to expect anything more. “Thank you.”

He shook his head. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to get on with it.”

I blinked. I’d gone from feeling like the star of someone’s show to a prop. “Sure,” I said, lying down.

Max undressed, and I settled in against the mountain of pillows. As he settled between my thighs, I opened a new book. I had finished the book about Henrietta Lack, and was now in the middle of my second non-fiction novel, When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi. Max had brought it from home, sure that if I’d enjoyed Lack’s story, I would plow through Kalanithi’s chapters as he had. At the moment, Max wasn’t plowing through anything, he was sleeping against my thigh, cuddling it like a teddy bear. It was arguably meatier than Sophie’s, and I’d noticed earlier that, for just a second, he’d ran his hand over the roundness of my hip, seeming to instantly have to subdue himself from wandering further.

I turned off the lamp with the remote, and flipped on the small reading light while he situated himself between my legs. I tried to concentrate on the words on the page while Max’s lips touched mine. His hands slid under my backside, and he pulled me against him. I sunk further into the pillows. His movements and mouth were more aggressive this time, and it took him far longer to fall asleep. I’d finished a chapter and started a new one by the time he finally started to relax and slow down. Nearly forty minutes after he’d started, Max nodded off against my thigh.

I closed my book and turned off the light, looking up at the ceiling. It illuminated from a small light on my nightstand. I reached over to grab my cell phone and smiled. It was Colton.