Faking It (Losing It, #2)(56)

“Is that so?”

“Oh yeah, I mean, you’re about as perfect as they come.”

I held back a laugh and said, “Oh no, you’re the perfect one.”

She leaned her head against my chest, and I wondered if she could hear the way my heart sped up. She said, “I guess we’re just perfect for each other then.”

I wrapped my arms all the way around her and held her close.

Bethany stood and said, “Excuse me. I’m going to go find Michael. I have no idea what could be keeping him.”

No doubt he’d snuck off to enjoy the superior company of his BlackBerry. We watched Bethany stalk out of the room. Max hesitated for a moment, and then turned her face into my chest to muffle her laughter.

“That is officially my favorite Christmas memory ever,” Max breathed.

“Why does she hate you so much?” I asked.

Max propped her chin on my chest and looked at me. When she wasn’t looking at me, I could pretend that this was all an act. That this was a role like any other. But with her eyes on mine . . . I lost focus.

She said, “I mentioned she’s the Antichrist, right?”

“Ah, so this is a battle of good-and-evil kind of thing.”

“No, this is a she’s-psycho kind of thing.”

“I could buy fingernails scrapeF” drink that. She enjoys hearing herself talk too much to not be at least a little bit sociopathic.”

Max’s eyes fluttered closed, and I realized that my hand was threading through her hair. I hadn’t even realized I’d been doing it. I knew what that did to her. I started to pull my hand back, but she laid her cheek back against my chest and wrapped an arm around my waist.





38

Max

I kept my distance.

It was the only way I knew to keep my heart.

I knew I couldn’t keep him away forever, but I managed it through the rest of Mom’s impromptu caroling session. I maintained the distance until it was time for bed. He was in his room, and I was in mine. And I was going to need my sleep to recharge my resolve—both with respect to Cade and to telling my parents the truth.

It was a bad sign for both that I was still wide-awake at 2:00 A.M. when a knocking started on my door.

I was wearing an oversized T-shirt and a pair of boy-short underwear. I thought of rummaging for a pair of shorts to pull on, but whoever was knocking was making enough noise to wake up my parents, so I figured it was better to just answer them.

When I pulled open the door, Cade stormed into my room. Panicked, I peeked my head out the door, but there were no lights on, which meant he hadn’t woken anyone . . . yet. I shut the door quietly and said, “What are you doing here?”

His eyes snapped from my bare legs up to my face, and his eyes were blazing.

“You’re mad,” I said in confusion.

“Hell yes, I’m mad.”

“I told you that I would tell them, Cade. I was planning to do it in the morning, in fact. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

“That’s not what I’m mad about.”

I barely had time to mutter, “Then what?” before he’d caught my face in his hands and pulled my lips to his.

His kiss was angry and punishing, and I felt it all the way in the marrow of my bones.

“I’m angry that you keep pushing me away when I know you don’t want to.”

He crushed our lips together again, bruising and beautiful.

“I’m angry that you left me after the best sex of my life.”

He turned and pressed me against the door, just like he did that night. I whimpered in response.

“More than anything, I’m angry that I had to wait so long to kiss you again.”

Then he poured his anger into me, our tongues battling for dominance. I was so in shock that I didn’t know whether to push him away or pull him closer, not that he gave me much of a choice. His hands found my wrists, and he pressed them into the door above my head. He wrung every last ounce of fear out of me until I was weak and panting and absolutely out of my mind with desire.

When he started to pull back, I shot forward and fingernails scrapeLiowI wondered if kissed him again. He released my hands, and I grasped the bulge of his shoulders. His teeth grazed my bottom lip in an almost-bite, and I lost it.

All my excuses were buried deep beneath the heat of his body against mine. I pressed my hips into his, and he groaned into my mouth. I couldn’t control myself. My hands trailed from his waist to his chest, and he held me tighter in response. I spun us, and started pulling him toward my bed.

His hand slid down to my ass, and his kiss was so devastating and consuming that I wanted to rejoice or scream or cry.

The back of my knees hit the bed at the same time that he pulled away.

His eyes were dark, and his breathing labored. “Whatever stupid reasoning you’ve got for staying away from me, it’s wrong. And I won’t stop until I’ve proven it to you.”

Then he left, and I fell back on my bed in shock.

It took nearly five minutes before I could do anything but sit there with my fingers pressed to my swollen lips.



As soon as I heard Mom bustling around downstairs, I pulled myself out of bed. It was still dark out, but even without a sufficient amount of sleep, my strength felt renewed. Maybe Cade had kissed some confidence into me the night before. Whatever the reason, my heart was eerily steady as I dressed that morning. I put on the scoop-neck shirt that I’d started the day in yesterday.