The Hero and the Fat Girl (New Hampshire Bears #3) (7 page)

“Are you okay, Remington?”

“Yes. The lawyer wants to meet.”

“Do I need to be there?” She leans against the dresser.

“I don’t know, but I’ll let you know for sure.”

“Okay.” Maxima begins to tug at the bottom of her shirt.

“What did you want to talk about?” I hold my breath, waiting for whatever is about to come.

“This.” She points to the bed. “I’m going to be real honest, and you might laugh at me, but I have to tell you.”

“I’m not going to laugh. What is it?” This conversation is about to turn real serious, real fast.

“I need to have a light on to sleep. I don’t like the dark.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

“That’s no big deal.” Lots of people don’t like the dark. She shouldn’t think I’d laugh at her about something that is serious to her. “Anything else?”

“I’ve…I…I’ve never slept with someone else in a bed before. I’m not sure how well this will work.” She hugs herself protectively.

“Maxima, if this make you this uncomfortable, I’ll get my parents a hotel room—”

“No,” she cuts me off. “You can’t touch me. When I sleep, I mean. You just can’t touch me.” Her eyes are wet with tears. “Please.”

“Okay.” Deep down, I have a horrible feeling about why she can’t be touched, but I don’t dwell on it because I hope it’s not true. I don’t want it to be true. “You have my word.”

She nods, shutting her eyes tight and taking several deep breaths. I want to hug her. I feel as if I need to protect her. She seems so small right now, almost childlike.

“When I agreed to this arrangement, I didn’t think this would be part of the deal. When we talked about your parents coming and me staying in your bedroom, it was hard for me, it is hard, but I’m willing to do it.” Maxima opens her eyes. “I took a sleeping pill. I shouldn’t dream…um…really move.”

“Maxima—” I stop because I’m not sure what to say.

“Remington, I want to do something. Something very bold for me.”

“What?” She’s already opened up more than ever before, which is already beyond my expectations. I’m going to keep doing what I have been doing since it seems to be working.

“Just…um…don’t grab me.” She walks over to me and bends down.

I think she’s going to kiss me on the lips, but it’s on the corner of my mouth.

“Thank you for everything you did for me today. No one has ever done anything so special for me.”

“You’re welcome.” I don’t know what else to say.

“Which side do I sleep on?” She steps back over to the dresser.

“You pick. I’ll leave the bathroom light on. If you want that side, it’s fine.”

“Thank you.” She gives me a small smile and moves to the other side of the bed.

I slide under the covers and turn off my light. Maxima very slowly eases into the bed. I’m trying to remain quiet to see if she wants to say something. I can’t believe she kissed me. I almost want to jump up and down. You’d think I was thirteen and it was my first kiss ever. Her lips were so soft, and it didn’t last nearly long enough.

But I will not push her.

There’s more to her story, and I know deep down it’s something very bad. I will wait for her to open up to me. And I will be here for her.

I’m on my back, and I glance over at Maxima. Her long black hair is spread out over the pillow. I desperately want to wrap my arms around her.

I try to think about the last time I even fucked a girl. Keaton, Kyson, and I used to go out a lot, and they’d pick up the hotties. I’ve always been different. I want a relationship. I want a family. I want someone to be home when I come off the road.

I want someone like Maxima
.

I want Maxima.

“Pancakes.” Arabella smiles.

I love cooking for her and Maxima. They both are always happy when they sit down at the table.

“I can’t wait to start dance class.” She has said this sentence ten times in the past three minutes.

“Well, I can’t wait to see you dance.” Sitting the plate in front of her, I kiss the top of her head.

Arabella gasps. “Max, you’re beautiful.”

I turn around and my knees go weak. Maxima is standing in front of me. She has on black slacks, a deep purple blouse, and purple heels. Her hair is in soft waves and her makeup just enough to highlight her stunning features. But most of all, her curves are accentuated, not hidden.

“Thank you.” She smiles. It’s a bright and real smile.

“Maxima, may I speak to you for a moment?” I nod toward the living room.

She follows me, and I take her hand, pulling her closer to me. My emotions are running on high right now.

“You are drop dead gorgeous. Thank you for letting me spoil you yesterday. If you let me, I’d like to take you on another date.”

Her silvery blue eyes shine bright. “Your parents are coming tonight.”

“I know, but when they leave or maybe they can watch Arabella one night. What do you say?”

She bites down on her lip. “Don’t grab me.” She warns me as she leans in and kisses the corner of my mouth.

Again.

“I’d love to,” she answers.

Before I can say anything else, Arabella comes running in. “Come on, Max, it’s time to go to school.” She jumps up and down. I had planned to take her, but if she’s excited for Max to drive her, I have no issues with it.

“Well, let’s go.” Maxima is smiling still.

This is the Maxima I want to know more about.

The real Maxima.

Arabella looks nervous when we walk into the dance studio. As excited as she has been, I’m not sure what’s changed.

“You okay?” I kneel down to her.

“Yes,” she whispers as the other girls and their mothers come filing in. “Max is coming, right?”

“Yes. Her meeting ran long, but she’ll be here soon.”

“What if I can’t dance?” She’s suddenly self-conscious.

“That’s why there’s a teacher. She’ll instruct you on what to do.” I almost think she might cry. “If you want to go home—”

“No.” She shakes her head. “As long as Max comes, I’ll be okay, and you’re not leaving, right?”

“Nope, I’m not.” I kiss her forehead. I stand up and take her hand. Together, we go up to the counter and sign in.

The instructor, who introduces herself as Miss Becca, shakes my hand and Arabella’s. Becca is around forty, if that, and overly excited about dancing. However, it puts Arabella at ease. At least, a little bit. She keeps looking over her shoulder at the door. She’s looking for Maxima.

“The parents sit over there.” Miss Becca points to a small set of bleachers where a gaggle of women are sitting.

“You okay?” I ask Arabella again.

She nods and takes Miss Becca’s outstretched hand. I watch for a few seconds as she leads my daughter to the small group of girls. I head over to the bleachers, and I feel all the ladies’ eyes on me. Manchester isn’t a massively huge city, and the Bears are the most popular sports team. I’m used to the stares and whispers when I come into a room. It’s what happens when you’re the number one Bears player and the number one in the professional hockey league. Especially, with women.

I know I’m judging, but my new contract was all over the news. Some, not all, only see dollar signs. I’m never more thankful for Maxima than now. She doesn’t see those signs. Since she’s started opening up, it’s even better. I politely smile at the mothers and take a seat near the edge on the bottom row, the farthest from them. I pull out my phone and send a text to Maxima.

Still @ work?

There’s no quick response, and I’m hoping that means she’s on her way. She promised Arabella, and I know she won’t break it either.

My phone vibrates, but it’s not Maxima.

Traffic isn’t bad. Should be there in an hour or so.

My mom’s text makes me smile. I’m excited to see them. Even though I told them to fly, they like their road trips.

Can’t wait. Everyone excited to see you and meet you.

I can’t wait to talk to my mom in person. She’s got one of the best legal minds and is the most compassionate people I know. I need her expertise to figure out how to tell Maxima the truth about my lies surrounding our fake engagement. I need her help with how to keep Maxima and not lose her all together.

How did I screw all of this up?
I thought.

My phone vibrates in my hand, and I smile at the single word from Maxima.

Here.

I look up at Arabella as Miss Becca walks them through some basic steps. Arabella seems to be keeping an eye on me and the other on her teacher. I wish there were some way I could tell her Maxima is coming, but I don’t have a way. Her face lights up brighter than spotlights on the ice when the door opens and Maxima strolls in.

Damn, she takes my breath away.

She comes right to me, and without thinking, I stand and take her hand, guiding her to the seat beside me.

“Did I miss anything?” she asks, almost out of breath.

“Did you run?” I half joke.

“Sort of.” She smiles.

I chuckle. “You haven’t missed anything. How was your day?”

She rolls her eyes. “Very long.”

“Everything okay?” I squeeze her hand.

“Jackson, my boss, was a total jerk to me.” She tucks her hair behind her ears. “I told him I wanted Friday off. I thought I’d take your mom and Arabella to have main-pedis, have some girl time, but when I told him, he gave me an evil look. Then he reminded me I took yesterday off, which pissed me off. I have over two hundred hours of sick time and six weeks’ vacation. I have the time to spare. Plus, I don’t have any meetings on Friday, and it’s not like he doesn’t take time off to golf.” She huffs.

I’m pretty sure she said all that in one breath. In fact, I never heard her vent like this before. She’s really upset.

“It’s sweet you want to take them out, but you don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to, but a real girlfriend would do it. Plus, Arabella likes it and it’s relaxing.” She looks out toward where Arabella is learning a new step. “How was your day?”

I know her well enough to know she’s ready to change the subject and doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“My day has been good. I made sure the guest room is all set up. My parents will be here soon. I’d figured we order take out since I’m sure neither of us wants to cook after our day.”

She nods, looking at me. There’s a small smile on her face. “Sounds perfect.”

We both watch Arabella, and I realize as I’ve done several times since Maxima moved in, this is exactly where I want to be. I need to man up and talk to her. If she leaves, it will be my own fault, and I’ll have to suffer the consequences.

Shit, that’ll be exactly what Mom says.

I leave my thoughts and focus on the here and now. I’m holding my fiancée’s hand, my daughter is a happy, healthy eight-year-old, and I’m living a lie.

For now.

When the hour of dance is over, Arabella comes racing into Maxima’s arms and begins talking a mile a minute.

“Did you see me, Max? Did I do good? I like it here. I made a friend too, and Miss Becca is nice.”