Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)(112)

Could I?

And that's when it hit me. I had blamed my impulsivity on Max since I’d met him, telling myself that he brought these things out of me. But he didn't. They were part of who I was. He just let me feel safe enough to express it.

***

By the time I plopped myself on a stool next to Tina at the bar, I had convinced myself that getting involved with Max beyond a platonic level was a mistake. I'd hurt enough men for one lifetime. I wasn't in a place to get involved with Max. At least not right now. Or maybe not ever. Or . . . who the hell knew? But definitely, unequivocally, beyond a shadow of a doubt, I was not getting involved with him anytime soon. Nope, not gonna happen.

Then I saw him—his faded jeans slung low on his waist, his tight grey T-shirt stretching over his tightly corded muscles, his intentionally messy black hair perfectly highlighting his electric blue eyes. My decision to wear a skirt had been a bad one because it didn't offer nearly enough protection from the flood of Biblical Noah proportions that was occurring in my underwear.

I had convinced myself that morning that my wardrobe choice had been due to the extreme heat we were experiencing, and the fact that Swift's air conditioning wasn't turned on unless required by law. But seeing him in all his glory shot that lie to shit. I was dressed for him: an appropriate, yet form-fitting skirt and a white pin-striped blouse hugged me in a way that made me feel attractive. And once I popped open an extra button or two, the look screamed "sexy teacher."

He scanned the room, looking for me and tipped his head in my direction once our gazes finally met.

"Oh my God, look who's here."

I looked to my left to see where the voice had come from. Ugh, f*cking Crystal Hightower. Even her name sounded like she should’ve been starring in porn, and the fake tits she threw in everyone’s face did nothing to dispute the association. I wasn’t exactly sure how Crystal had become a teacher. She was dumber than driftwood. She must’ve spent a lot of time on her knees in college. I vaguely remembered her lavishing her attention on Max last year, but I'd been too caught up in my own relationship with him to pay her much attention.

Max started making his way over, but was stopped by a few teachers before he got to me.

“I've just decided that Max Samson is going to be my summer fling,” she purred to her gaggle of gremlins as she slid her drink onto the bar, pulled her shirt down, and shimmied her shoulders to get the girls ready for action.

My eyes widened as I listened while she told her creatures of the night entourage about her plans for Max, which were shockingly detailed considering she hadn't been expecting to see him. It seemed that she intended to f*ck him senseless until he basically handed her his wallet and gave her free rein over his bank account.

“Kind of like an escort.” Clearly my mouth possessed about as much of a filter as the water fountain at work. Tina nearly choked on her drink as she heard me, and I sensed Crystal turn in my direction.

“Did you say something to me, Lily?” Her eyes were glacial as she appraised me.

God, what I wouldn’t give to mollywhop the shit out of this trick. “No,” I said innocently. “Just talking to Tina.”

Max finally appeared at my side. "How's it goin', Lil?"

"Good. You remember Tina," I replied, holding out my hand in her direction.

"Yup. How ya doin’, Tina?"

Tina's eyebrows raised before she turned toward her drink. "Everything's fine with me." I couldn't help notice the sly smile on her lips. She knew fireworks were coming, and she was looking forward to the show.

Max eyed her curiously for a moment before looking at me. "Man, it looks like the whole school is here. It's good to see everybody."

"Yeah, it's good to get out with everyone and talk about things other than school once in a while."

"Hi, Max." Crystal's voice was like nails on a chalkboard, and I wanted to beat her over the head with my stool for interrupting us.

"Oh, uh, hey." Max clearly didn't remember Crystal's name, and it thrilled me.

"Crystal," she said, smiling sweetly, though I thought I saw a slight wince of disappointment on her face. Or maybe embarrassment. I hoped it was both.

"Yeah, right. Crystal. Nice to see you." Max was polite, but he shifted closer to me.

"You too. Really nice."

The seduction in her voice made a laugh burst from my mouth. Everyone in our vicinity whipped their heads to gawk at me, so I quickly released a cough to cover my outburst. "Sorry. Wrong pipe," I lied.

"Anyway, Max, the bartender has been completely ignoring this half of the bar. Do you think you could get me a drink?"

I couldn't believe the balls on this skank. She'd been talking to him for all of two seconds, and she was already asking for him to buy her drinks. I was about ready to shank this ho.

"Um, sure," Max replied. He asked what she was drinking and then glanced at me. "You need anything?"

I shook my head and he started off toward the other end of the long bar.

"He’s really handsome, Crystal. Maybe you guys will really like each other,” Dana, one of the meeker minions, chimed in.

“Who cares about any of that? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it certainly helps that he’s attractive. But I only have eyes for one thing . . . his credit card.” Crystal cackled at her little joke and her hyenas all joined in. “God, athletes are so stupid.”