Free Indiscretion: Volume Four by Elisabeth Grace Page B

way.

Chloe
    I’d barely slept. Though it had nothing to do with the uncomfortable couch, and everything to do with what happened last night before I decided to sleep on the uncomfortable couch.
    I reflected on my conversation with Max and was still filled with anger and guilt. I was angry that a man like Max was letting the past dictate his future and how he lived his life. Of course I understood his guilt—I couldn’t imagine having to relive something like that over and over again in my mind. But he was still blaming himself. The fact that his father had put the blame squarely on his shoulders when he was just a child angered me just as much. A child!
    Why had I shown him my anger, though? Guilt was consuming me as I stared up at the ceiling trying to decide what to do. That wasn’t how I should’ve handled the situation. Here he was confiding in me about something he’d never shared with anyone else, and I had shit all over him.
    A few minutes later I heard Max’s footsteps creaking against the wood floors above me as he made his way down the hall. Then I heard the bathroom door close.
    Nervous about the confrontation I knew was coming, I began to pace the living room, wringing my hands together. I had to figure out a way to let him know I didn’t think any less of him for his confession. It was the opposite, in fact. Living with the responsibility of what happened and that kind of devastation must’ve been crushing at times. The fact that he’d turned out a normal, relatively well-adjusted man, with no support from his family, was a credit to his character. I had to make him see that he needed to let go of the guilt.
    The shower turned off, and I rushed back to the couch, launching myself against the cushion. I pulled the blanket up and closed my eyes only moments before the bathroom door opened and I heard Max’s footsteps on the wood stairs. I didn’t know how he was going to be with me this morning, and I wasn’t yet ready to face the awkward situation I’d created by sleeping downstairs.
    “I know you’re awake, Chloe,” he said with an exasperated tone. “I heard you moving around down here.”
    I opened one eye to see him standing over me. Sitting up, I took him in. Despite the drama of the previous evening, desire slammed into me like a fist. He looked sexy as hell in clinging black boxer briefs stretched tautly over his muscled thighs. I finally dragged my gaze up from his body to his face. I guess I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t gotten my full eight hours beauty rest last night. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and he appeared worn down. He had to be mentally exhausted from reliving his brother’s death last night, which only made me feel worse about my reaction.
    “I’m not sure what to say or where to start but we need to talk,” he said in his typical strong, demanding voice.
    “I’m sorry,” I blurted out, just wanting all the tension to go away.
    “You have nothing to apologize for,” he said quietly, then pursed his lips.
    “Yes, I do,” I sighed. “You confided something very personal to me and, instead of being compassionate and trying to make you feel better, I let my feelings for you take over and I got angry. With you. And I’m not even angry with you.” I shook my head at myself. “I just hate seeing you blame yourself for something that was an accident when you were only a child.”
    “You’re wrong,” he argued, though his face softened. “You did make me feel better. Just telling someone, finally, after all those years is such a weight off my shoulders. I’ve been wanting to tell you, but I was afraid you’d bolt after. Which I suppose you kind of did.” He gave a small laugh and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “After you walked out, I laid there, thinking about some of the things you said and, for the first time…for the first time ever , Chloe…I was able to let go of some of the guilt that’s always plagued me.” He looked at me