Maxed Steel by M.J. Fields
Worked Up
Mila
“It’s too early for this,”Lindsey grumbles from behind me as I sit at the reception desk at the fitness center, my official campus job.
I look behind me and over the railing as she’s wiping off one of the benches that one of the jocks just sweated all over then walked away from without disinfecting it and wiping it down. “No one else wanted early mornings.”
“We make so much more with our side hustle,” she grumbles.
“Usually how it works.”
When she looks past me and her eyes widen, I turn around, and there stands Boone and Max freaking Steel, with a nights’ worth of scruff, in gray sweatpants and a pale pink tank top cut so we can all see his man nips.
Fuck my life.
“Morning, Blue.” He smiles. “Did you miss me?”
“Like I would a hangover.” I reach my hand out, take Boone’s student ID, and swipe it.
“Guess I’m gonna have to figure out a way to change that, yeah?” He winks.
I hand Boone back his ID, and he walks past as I take Max’s, swipe it, and then hand it back. “Enjoy.”
“You, too,” he says.
I huff, “Enjoy work, oh, okay.”
He looks back over his shoulder. “I was talking about the show.”
“Could you be any more conceited?”
He looks down at my chest, licks his lips, and smirks. “You’re making me feel as if I got it like that.”
I know damn well I’m nipping.
Freaking Max factor.
“Get over yourself. It’s cold in here.”
Dimple popping and chuckling, he walks away, leaving me pissed at myself for getting turned on by an asshat like him.
Most of my life, I hated mirrors. Two years ago, that changed. I saw myself through someone else’s eyes and worked harder than ever before to get healthy. Since then, I have forced myself to love mirrors, and when I look in them, I force myself to find one thing every day that I love about myself. Right now, I’m back to hating them, because … he’s beautiful, carved from whatever God the Steel family has on payroll up in heaven when each are created. Sexy, and I know firsthand that, as a boy, he has moves, though now he’s clearly all man. Strong, the kind of strong that could lift a car off you if ever need be.
I lift my eyes to his face, at the dimples behind the scruff, and he’s looking right at me, doing squats.
“Should we tell him it’s better to get his heart rate up by doing some cardio first, or do you think he did some between the sheets kind of cardio this morning to get ahead on the beave contest?” Lindsey asks.
“I think we should pretend he doesn’t exist.”
* * *
I lovethat Lindsey is psyched about working parties with me. Not so psyched that she booked tonight. My plan was to head back home after work today since I am not scheduled at the gym until Tuesday morning, but it’s not like I can just tell her that.
The more questions I get, the more I have to lie about why I go home two days a week and never hit spring break with friends or accept offers to go with Lindsey to meet her family.
Years ago, I made a promise to my mother that I would get through college. There were a few months I thought that would never happen. I thought that all my hard work through high school to get great grades would have been an unrealized dream— for both Mom and me. When everything changed and I was reminded that promises were not made to be broken… no matter the circumstance.
Lindsey bursts through the door, her arms loaded with coupon inserts, and excitedly announces, “I grabbed them all.”
I look at my phone. “We have three hours to clip before I’m gonna need a power nap.”
“Day one, we have five new tees, so less time and money spent on doing laundry. And we each made a hundred and fifty dollars. Tonight, we’re going to make at least that. And, with all these coupons, we’re going to be able to stock up our closet and donate some things, too.” She sets them on the bed and smiles. “Lots of health and beauty coupons in this week’s flyers.”
“You make it sound so exciting.”
“Oh my God, it is. The less dependency I have on the ’rents, the less I feel I owe them.”
* * *
“You look cute tonight,”Lindsey says as we walk down the road that is already lined with cars of all kinds, namely expensive, toward Baller.
“Pfft, I look cute all the time.”
She gives me the side eye, and I figure out a way to make this outfit choice have nothing to do with one Max Steel. “It was on sale, and I had a twenty-dollar reward coupon; got the whole outfit for ten bucks.”
“Was it last season? Because I haven’t seen any fall clothes on sale. They’re just hitting the racks.”
I defend my high-necked tank top under my oversized navy boyfriend cardigan and jeans with, “This isn’t a fall outfit.”
“Okay, so winter?”
“It gets cold at night. And—”
“I love you, Mila, but seriously just stop.”
“It is.” My voice squeaks.
“The parties here are always stifling hot, and the bar at Baller is in the basement.”
“Basements get cold.”
“And Max Steel makes you hot, so—”
“If you mean hot like, as in a fever, from the stomach bug, or a horrible case of diarrhea, yeah, he makes me feel like that.”
“So, if I don’t hook up with Beau, then I could sink my spurs into Max?”
After almost tripping over air as Lindsey laughs at me, I tell her, “Have at it.”
“Have at it, but?”
She’s seriously pushing my buttons.
“Don’t bring him to our room when I’m there,” I state.
“All righty then.” She quirks a brow, and I completely ignore the inquisition her expression holds.
* * *
After an hourof nonstop filling cups, I hear that voice, that quiet, husky tone with a bit of badass ask, “Blue, what the hell are you wearing?”
Before I have a chance to answer, Lindsey tells him, “She gets cold easily.”
“Yeah?” He looks me up and down.
“Do you have a cup?” I ask, trying to not be a blatant bitch, but also not giving him any ideas, either. Because that would be disastrous.
“He can have mine.” A girl from one of my women’s study classes from last semester leans toward him.
“Nah, Mila’s got me covered, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but mittens here will give you more than a cup, if you know what I’m saying, Steel. I’d stick with a sure thing if I were you.”
He leans in, his elbows on the concrete bar, getting a little too freaking close, but I refuse to step back. “Do I need to be clearer with my intentions?”
Now I do step back. “That ship has sailed.”
“Then I guess I need to blow harder on those sails, Blue.” He winks then walks away.
“I cannot deal with the likes of him.”
“I always pegged you as a gentle lick and less blow kind of girl.” Chase Lincoln smiles.
Filling his cup, I shake my head. “You were one of the few residents on Ball Bag Lane who didn’t cause me to throw up in my mouth … right up until a couple of seconds ago, Lincoln, and there you had to go and ruin it.”
“My bad. Let me take you out to dinner and make it up to you. How’s tomorrow night?”
I set the cup in front of him. “Busy.”
“Sunday.” He pauses. “No, wait, you disappear on Sundays. How about lunch on Tuesday?”
“How about no?” I say as I take another empty red cup.
“I could make it worth your while.” He says all sweet-like.
“Lincoln, my ten-dollar bullet takes care of any need I have, so how about you—”
“Heard you’re giving this gig up when you turn twenty-one.”
“Jesus, Lindsey,” I mumble.
“Not looking for a relationship, Mila. Think of it more as a business opportunity,” he says, dropping a twenty on the bar. “Think about it.”
“Business opportunity?” Lindsey grabs the twenty and shoves it in her pocket. I let her oversee the money. There are times I forget and some other drunk college student, on the other side of the bar, takes liberties. Last time it happened, I almost went over the bar at Steven Walley’s girlfriend. He’s the head of Other Side, a name coming from the fact that it is literally on the other side of the tracks from JU, and she was saving us from losing that job.
She smiles at Lincoln. “I’m listening.”
“Cute, Lindsey, but you know what happened to Little Red Riding Hood when she went into the woods alone, right?” he asks.
“The Big Bad Wolf ate her.” She grins. “I’ll take my chances. Give it to me, Lincoln.”
Oh my God, Lindsey is flirting.
His eyebrows shoot up. “Give it to you?”
She mock-gasps. “Not like that. What kind of girl do you think I am?”
Hello, Lindsey 2.0.I laugh to myself … and I spend the rest of the evening making sure my back is to Max, trying to ignore that he’s here and realizing just how ready Lindsey is to make the most of the next two years of college.
And for the next two hours, I live in the blissful existence that I forced myself into two years and eight months ago, a world where I wasn’t a part of Max Steel’s life, yet he was a constant in mine. And that works until I hear a clearing of a throat and know immediately who it is. I give Lindsey the look, the one that says, “Take care of this,” as I have the entire time.
“I want you.” His voice has a bit of a slur to it. “Not her, not the dozen or so girls around here offering up ass. I want another go at you, Blue.”
I whip around and scowl at him. “Seriously, I am working, and I’m not interested. Not at all.”
He scrubs a hand over his scruff, probably trying to hide his infuriating smirk. “Then we have a problem, don’t we?”
“One of us does, and guess what? It’s not me.” I take his beer, refill it, set it on the bar, and tell him, “Bottoms up, Max. You’ll move on.” And I think, you did back then.
He slams the entire cup then sets it on the bar. “Nope, still want you.”
“You have no idea who I am any—”
“I know exactly who you are. I remember how you smell, how you tas—”
“Lindsey, I’m stepping out for a minute.”
“But it’s busy and—” She stops when she sees Max standing there.
“I would appreciate it. I don’t need this whole place looking at me like a wounded animal after the great Max fucking Steel has shown interest in me.” Anger overtakes me as I look at all the faces now staring at me and decide fuck it. I raise my voice. “Because I’m not interested in him, or any of you!” Then I storm out, feeling sick to my stomach because, straight-up, this cannot be my life, not now that I have busted my ass to make my life work.
“I fucked up, Blue!” he yells from behind me. “I did, and it took but a second to realize it.”
I stop quickly and turn on him, and he all but runs into me.
I plant my hand on his chest and attempt to push him back. “You had a dozen other colleges to choose from, and you end up here!” I step back because he’s not budging.
He stretches his arms out wide and says, “The wind blew my sails in this direction and fate—”
“Listen to yourself! You … you … God, Max, you’re drunk!”
“Nothing wrong with having a good time once in a while, Blue. I remember what you look like when you were having a good time and how sexy you sounded when you cam—”
“The cafeteria worker at Seashore who everyone picked on raised me; took that job and the ridicule from your kind so I could go to school there because I was a ‘gifted’ student. But not gifted enough to get into the schools I knew would offer me scholarships, because you, you got in all of them and fucked up my chances, and then you turned them down. Two kids, Max, two kids from each school is all most colleges admit. You and that asshole, Effisto, had to try to outdo one another based on ego and ruined everyone’s chances!
“And a good time? My father’s good time killed my mother, just like you almost killed you and your cousin. My aunt is that woman in the cafeteria, and while she continues to put her dreams on hold so I can become something, I will do just that.” I poke myself in the chest. “My people mean something to me, and for the last time, you don’t, so fuck off!”
He holds up his phone. “You blocked me.”
“Yeah, I sure did. If only it was that easy to block you right now.”
He looks back at his phone. “Last thing you said is we need to talk. You just spewed a whole lot of hatred my way, you just talked, so now it’s my turn.”
“Two years and seven months too late.”
“I liked you. Like really fucking liked who you were.”
“I’m not that insecure kid anymore.”
He shakes his head. “Never seemed that way to me, and I liked you enough that, after we fucked, I begged you to go on a date. I’ve never asked a girl on a date; they’ve always asked me. And I certainly didn’t have to beg, so yeah, Miller, you’ll hear me out.”
“Answer one question for me.”
“Ask me twenty.” He smiles like this is all just fine.
“Is this the first time you checked to see if I slid into your inbox?”
“After the accident, I wasn’t—”
“Driving drunk isn’t a fucking accident; it’s a choice!”
“Blue, can I trust you?”
“Fuck no, you can’t trust me. I’d knife you in the back if I could get away with it.”
“Kind of harsh, yeah?” he asks with way too much amusement in his voice.
“You condescending prick. Fuck you.” I begin to walk past him.
He blocks me. Of course he blocks me …
“Let me ask you a question now.”
“I do, and you’ll leave me the hell alone so I can do my damn job,” I snap.
He leans in too close for comfort and whispers, “If I wasn’t drinking, and maybe something got slipped in the water that I sipped on while at the bar to pick up Amias, be his DD, would you still be treating me like this, Miller?”
“Is that the story your million-dollar lawyer spun to get you off, Steel?”
“It’s the fucking truth. This isn’t one of our dirty little skits to pass back and forth in class. This is real life, Mila.”
Never have I ever heard Max sound, seem, or act vulnerable, but I will not be fooled, not again. “If I trusted you, I may buy that story, but I don’t.”
Phone still in his hand, he holds it up and hits a button.
I once again attempt to move past him. “I have to work!”
“Hey, Amias. I know it’s late, but I need you to clear things up for Miller. She’s thinks I’m full of shit about the accident.”
“Max, you wake up my kids, I’m gonna kick your ass.” I hear Amias freaking Steel.
Amias. Freaking. Steel.
“You’re out of your mind if you think—”
“Miller, he wasn’t drinking, but he’s all in his feels about coming forward with this. Makes him a bit sensitive, so—”
“Max, move,” I hiss.
I hear Amias chuckle from the phone then say, “Miller, you ain’t got a chance, babe. If he’s into you, all you can do is hold on tight and enjoy the ride.”
“I certainly do have a chance. He doesn’t back off, I’ll slap him with a restraining order.”
Amias cracks up. “Fuuuuck, Max, that’ll be a first for our crew.”
He looks me up and down, smiling, and replies, “She wants me.”
I throw my hands in the air in frustration and finally stomp past him.
As I walk toward the house, I hear Amias say, “Make sure she knows the first chick you crushed on is still in your life.”