Free Rebounding by Shanna Clayton Page B

lingerie girl, that leaves me even more confused.
    Unless…
    “You’re not attracted to me?”
    He laughs once, stopping short when he realizes it was a serious question. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Charlotte. You have to know that.”
    “Then I don’t understand. What’s the problem?”
    “It’s just,” he pauses, thinking, and I can tell he’s trying to censor what he’s about to say. “You’re hurting right now, and we have to live together for who knows how long. Let’s not complicate this.”
    “It won’t be awkward, Max. I’m an adult. I understand what I’m getting myself into.” I touch his cheek, lifting my face to his. I gently press my lips against his again, but he grabs my hands and backs away from me.
    “Don’t, Charlotte. I can’t handle this,” he says, gripping my hands as if he doesn’t trust me with them. “You have no idea how tempting you are, but I won’t do this with you.”
    I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”
    “Don’t take it as a rejection. Take it as a compliment.”
    “That makes no sense.”
    “It makes perfect sense.” He sighs, tucking a stray curl behind my ear, and then he gives me a long, tortured look. “If I didn’t have any respect for you, I’d give into you in a heartbeat. Not because I don’t want to, God knows I want to, but because it’s the wrong fucking thing to do. You’ve been drinking, you’re vulnerable, and I want you to be able to do whatever you came here to do. After what you did for me…if I did this with you now, I’d hate myself.”
    I’m so caught up by what he’s saying that when he’s done, it takes me a few seconds to realize I’m holding my breath. At this point, I can’t even think straight. “Goddammit, Max.”
    “What?”
    “Why’d you have to go developing respect for me?” I sigh, knowing he’s right about everything. If we did this now, I’d probably hate myself too.
    He smiles, shaking his head at me. “Come on, kid. Let’s go back inside and get you a towel.”
    I take the hand he offers, and he yanks me up. My head spins dizzily, the wine really hitting me hard. Max catches me right as I’m about to fall, wrapping his arm around my side. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
    The rain pours harder as we plod back through the wet sand. I look up at Max, seeing the raindrops trickle down his skin, wishing I could lick them off, one by one.
    Respect.
    Ugh, that word. I hate it already. Who would guess that these days I’d rather be disrespected?
    “We should at least be friends,” I tell Max, my voice starting to slur. “I know s’against your rules and all, but I don’t have anyone else, ’cept for Batman. We hang out sometimes when you’re not paying attention—not a big talker though.”
    An amused smile pulls at one corner of his mouth. “Friends?”
    “Don’t tell me you don’t do that either,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or are Trevor and Stephanie innocent bystanders? Because I don’t—”
    He cuts me off with a laugh. “I know you’re only joking, but sometimes I think of them that way too.”
    “If we were friends, you could s’plain that to me.”
    Max opens the sliding glass door, his arm still wrapped around my waist. We both step inside the house, puddles dripping at our feet. “Stay here,” he says, heading toward the nearest closet. Inside there are stacks of plush towels. He tosses me one, and then grabs another for himself.
    I wrap the towel around me, grateful for the warmth it provides. Behind the storm clouds, the gray sky is darkening to black. It’s not that late, but I let out a yawn, feeling ready to pass out.
    “Come on,” Max says, holding out his hand. “I’ll make sure you get to your room without falling on your ass.”
    “What a gentleman.” I wink at him.
    He helps me up the stairs, and it’s a good thing too, because I doubt I’d make it up them on my own.
    When we get to my room, I finish drying off. Max looks around,