I donât take a commercial flight home from Bali. This time, I fly in Jimmyâs private jet with the boys and Flick and Stacey. I feel like a celebrity. Not only because of the James Bond style private jet â double O so cool â but also because my phone has been buzzing non-stop with texts from everyone I know. Theyâre asking about the photos of Max and I at the wedding, which are circulating Twitter like a plague.
There is a particularly bad angled photo of me sticking my tongue out and Max sucking on it. I cringe and half cover my face, hoping my parents donât see it. Braving the Twitface platform, I read some of the comments and conclude that people suck.
As always, there are a lot of comments about Max and his never-ending string of conquests, which surprisingly includes me listed as a side piece. At least Iâm listed.
There are personal attacks on my character from people Iâve never met. Apparently, Iâm pregnant. A slut. A tart. Too young for him. I have small tits â that one hurts. Iâm not very good at ballet, but Iâve managed to sleep my way to the top, which is funny because all of my ballet mistresses are just that. . . mistresses. Iâm apparently really dumb and ditzy and Jessica has no idea what Max sees in me. I have also been really busy because there are, like, tons of guys commenting that theyâd had me first. And they are detailed. Iâm also the sister of Konnor, so he was mentioned a few times and that makes my blood boil. Toni has replied to some of the nastier comments and he is so witty and cutting, supporting me and deflecting when he can. Heâs my rock in every way.
I try so hard not to care. I try to remember these comments are coming from bored people who have nothing better to do than live vicariously through me.
I have several missed calls from Konnor and a few voicemails Iâm yet to open. That is a can of worms Iâm keeping shut until Iâm alone. I doubt Max will take kindly to whatever Konnor has to say about us.
Studying my phone, I sigh. âMax?â When I touch his thigh, he pulls out his right headphone and trains his relaxed eyes on mine.
âHmm?â Heâs slumped back in the luxurious plane seat, his thighs spread wide. Heâs wearing light-grey cotton trackpants and a white V-neck. Iâve never seen him look so normal. Gorgeous and undeniably, uncomfortably hot, but looking like a normal twenty-four-year-old nonetheless.
âDo you use Facebook or Twitter?â I ask.
He smirks. âI donât even have a phone.â
My brows shoot up. âOh my God. What? How do people get hold of you?â
He laughs. âIf I can help it, they donât.â
âBut what about work?â
He shrugs. âI have a pager.â
I nod, grinning at him. âOld school.â
He chuckles. âWant my pager number?â
âYes. But thatâs not why Iâm asking.â I pause for a moment. âPeople are kinda. . . talking about you.â
He yawns and starts flicking through music on his iPod. âTheyâre always talking about me.â
I cringe a little. âAbout . . . us.â
He stiffens and slowly turns to face me. âWhat about us?â
âAbout me, actually, more than anything.â I immediately regret this conversation when his relaxed face is replaced with the irrefutable, tight, and intimidating expression of the Max I know and . . . well, am obsessed with.
His brows draw in tight. âWhat about you?â
âUmm. . . actually, donât worry.â
âCassidy, goddamn it, what are they saying?â
I hesitantly pass him my phone. âHere. Have a read.â
He inhales loudly, his eyes darting around the display, getting narrower and narrower until a vein in his neck bulges. âFuckâs sake,â he spits out.
My throat constricts. âI havenât been with any of those guys!â
He turns towards me, his scowl still in place. âAre you serious? You think I donât know that?â
I recoil in my seat. âSorry.â
âI know everything about your body, what itâs done, what it hasnât.â
âI know.â
âFuckâs sake!â He breathes fast and heavy for a moment and then cracks his neck before turning to seek out my gaze again. His hand lifts to stroke my cheek. âForget about them.â He laughs once. âYour mate Toni has made a comeback in my good books.â
I relax on a sigh and smile at him, batting my lashes because flirty and sweet is my default Max Butcher mode. âHeâd be happy to hear heâs in your good books. Although, when you told him off at the gym, he kinda liked it.â
Max hides his laugh behind a wall of feigned disgust. âNot what I want to hear.â
Max drives me home in his 4WD that I now know is a Range Rover. Itâs big and sleek and sexy and so him. He rolls onto the lawn next to my studio. Switching off the headlights, he doesnât move for a moment. Instead he stares straight ahead into the darkness. He grips the steering wheel while his face is tight with contemplation.
âI donât like this,â he mutters without turning his head.
I know how he feels, but I pretend I donât. âWhat?â
His jaw clenches. âI donât know. . . leaving you, I think.â
âMax.â
âItâs been me and you. But now. . . Forget about it. Iâll see you on Friday.â
Everything he isnât saying resonates with me. Iâve become so accustomed to his warmth at night, the Max and Cassidy world, and . . . if Iâm completely honest, the daily orgasms. âWhy Friday? Thatâs like five days away. What happened to âmost nightsâ?â
âItâs just for this week. Iâve got some things I have to take care of. Toniâs at my gym every Friday. Go with him.â
âOkay. . . So I wonât see you at all until then? And I canât call you?â
He hands me a piece of paper. âMy pager number.â
My stomach knots up. âOkay.â
Max and I stare at each other, longing in both our eyes and maybe something a little extra. I reach for the drawstring on his track pants, wanting to show him with my mouth how I feel about him, but a thud at the passenger window makes me jump. I swivel to see Konnor waiting impatiently on the other side of the glass.
Frick.
I exhale fast, my hands still trembling a little from what Iâd been about to do for Max. And in my own backyard!
Timing. . .
âGet out of the car, Cassidy!â Konnor grumbles.
Before I can make a move, Max has already leapt from his side and circled around to mine. Unlatching my car door, he stands staunchly between Konnor and I.
Max is only a few inches taller than Konnor, but they are both at least a foot taller than me. I bounce from the car and move towards my brother. Standing on my toes, I sling my arms around him, cuddling his neck so tight because I love him so much even when he looks like he wants to break something. When he doesnât return my affection, I release him and step back. Heâs eyeballing Max behind me, his entire body tight with rage.
I swallow and feign ignorance, knowing quite well why his face means business. âBig brother, what-â
âI tried to call you,â he says through a tight jaw, his eyes never leaving Max. I wonder what Maxâs face looks like right now. Heâs probably smirking. Menace.
My pulse quickens. âI know. I was in Ba-â
âI know. I saw the photo.â
I squirm a little, imagining Konnor flicking through Facebook and coming across a picture of his little sister with her tongue in Max Butcherâs mouth.
My hand meets Konnorâs arm. âAre you back for the weekend again?â
Konnor glances at me for a spit second. âGo inside. I wanna talk to Max.â
I sigh and drop my hand. âNo.â
He stares at me. âWhat?â
Maxâs hand touches my hip. âYou donât get to do that,â I say while covering Maxâs hand with mine.
âGet to do what?â Konnor asks, suddenly trained on our hands. Locked onto them.
âCome home and tell me to go inside,â I say softly. âYou donât get to do that.â
Maxâs hand twitches. âIâm heading off now anyway,â he says and twists me to face him. I roll my eyes at Maxâs cocky smirk, but canât help but smile nonetheless.
âGive me a kiss first, little one.â
Trying not to smile too hard, I rise onto my tippy toes and kiss his cheek. In an instant, Iâm lifted to straddle him and he leans back into his car, touching me everywhere he can. His fingers move around my body, exploring and groping. I try to push him away subtly, but heâs hell bent on proving a point.
âMax,â I plea between kisses. âDonât.â
Konnor growls. âDo you mind not dry rooting my sister in front of me?â
Max gradually lowers me to the ground.
Tucking me behind him, he heads straight for Konnor. âYouâre fucking lucky, Slater. You should stay out of the District. It doesnât agree with you.â
Konnor steps towards him and they get within an inch of each other. I hold my breath.
âThis is my town too, Butcher!â
Max laughs, but itâs not kind. âThis is definitely not your town.â
âYou know nothing about me.â
âI bet you wish that were true.â
âWhat the hell does that mean?â Konnor shuffles his feet. âYou think you know something about me?â
âWhatâs your problem with me, Slater?â Max levels him with a smirk. âIs it because Iâve made out with your girlfriend or because I know what your sister feels like from the inside?â
Oh my God!
Before I have a chance to react, Konnor throws his fist into Maxâs face. Grunts of pain spit from them both. Max shoves Konnor in the chest. Konnor hits the grass hard, a winded sound expelling from him. Scowling, Max hovers over him. He presses his shoe to Konnorâs chest and pins him to the grass.
âIâm not gonna hit you!â Max barks.
âOh my God,â I yell as I grab my enraged loverâs arm, trying to pull him away from Konnor. But heâs a solid wall of tense muscles. On the ground, Konnor looks pale and shaky, as though he might throw up. Tugging on Maxâs arm, I plead with him. âPlease, let him stand up.â
Max takes his foot off Konnorâs chest and turns to face me. The lower part of his lip has a small gash in it. He searches my pained mien and winces, his eyes flashing a silent apology.
âFuck,â he growls, but I think that aggression is aimed at himself.
âKonnor,â I hear Blesk call out and Konnorâs glare instantly breaks.
Quickly standing, he yells, âIâm fine. Weâre fine. Max was just leaving.â
Blesk appears at Konnorâs side, flushed from the run across the grass and yet so naturally beautiful. Her blonde hair bounces around her full breasts as they rise and fall. I notice, of course, because Iâve always been jealous of big boobs. Her sunflower dress sways over her perfectly curvaceous thighs. Sheâs taller than me, a few sizes bigger, flawlessly proportioned, and simply stunning. âIs this because Iâve made out with your girlfriend?â And now I want to analyse Maxâs words until I go insane.
She smiles nervously at me. âIâm sorry. Konnor isnât himself.â
âBlesk,â Max says deadpan.
She barely glances up at him. âMax.â
I throw my hands up. âYou are both cavemen.â I stare at Konnor. âDonât you ever hit him again!â Spinning to face Max, I say, âAnd youâre a fricking menace.â
Konnor clears his throat. âJust so weâre clear, Butcher. I donât have a problem with you because you kissed Blesk once when you two were teenagers. Iâm not insecure about our relationship. I have a problem with you because you walk around the District like you own the fucking place and be-â
âI do own the fucking place.â
âAnd because my little sister is way too good for you!â
Max smirks again. âAt least we agree on something.â
That throws Konnor completely off his train of thought. âWell. . . good.â Suddenly, he cups his forehead. His legs wobble and then heâs flat on his back again.
Blesk and I both squat down beside him.
âKonnor. Whatâs going on?â I ask. As the moonlight hits his face, Iâm able to take him all in. The hair on his jawline is long and unkept and his usually bright and endearing emerald-green eyes are dull and bloodshot.
âHeâs given up drinking. Itâs been making him dizzy for a few days now,â Blesk says, her concern so deep itâs etched into every aspect of her expression.
I turn to watch Max approaching us, a tall silhouette that covers the moon, momentarily casting a shadow over Konnor. Leaning down, he grips Konnorâs forearm and hauls him to his feet. Hooking his arm around Konnorâs waist, he helps him walk towards the house. I take in a big, slow breath. How do guys go from hostile to helpful in the space of a few seconds?
Once inside, Max guides Konnor over to the couch and Konnor drops down with a grumble. His elbows meet his knees and his hands cover his face. After breathing into them for a few moments, he thrusts his hands through his sandy-brown hair and drags them back down, rubbing his tension away.
âYouâre my hero, Butcher,â Konnor mocks, but I think there is something other than sarcasm in his voice. âStill donât like you.â
Max turns from him. âGood.â
As soon as he grabs my hand and pulls me towards the door, my heart begins to ache. Heâs leaving. Stopping by the door, he takes one last look at me.
I stare up at my menace and touch the little cut on his mouth. âYour lip.â
He grins wide enough for the dimple on his left cheek to show. âI get hit worse sparring at the gym.â
âEither way,â I say, glancing at the ground. âI hate what just happened.â
He lifts my chin up until my eyes meet his dark, grey ones. âI didnât want to fight with your brother, little one. But I have zero tolerance towards anyone who gets involved in this thing between us. . . If heâd been anyone else, heâd be choki-â
âYou could tone down the vulgar things you say.â
âI could.â He cups my neck with both hands and studies my face. âI will.â
I lift a blonde brow at him. âAnd youâve kissed Blesk?â
He softens. âCassidy. I was just a kid then.â
I stroke my nails through the hair on his tattooed forearm. âI didnât like hearing it though. When you said that, it probably hurt me more than it hurt Konnor.â
As his hands caress my face, his eyes follow them. Follow them along my warm cheeks. To the swell of my lower lip. To the tip of my nose. He taps my nose softly and I smile that goofy smile. âAnd I donât want to hurt any part of you,â he says.
I sigh, missing him immensely already. âI have to make sure my brother is okay.â
He bites back words. âI know,â he manages to say with a deep and sexy voice that makes my thighs quiver. He plants a long kiss on my lips. His arms pull my body in to meet his for a moment, tightening on a deep sigh. Then he releases me, leaving me dizzy, and walks out the front door.
Staring at the open door, I feel the physical absence of him all around me. We have become so close and yet, I donât even know where he lives or how to get hold of him. I literally have to wait for him to find me and that makes me feel sick to my stomach â helpless. Insecure.
âPipsqueak, Iâm sorry,â Konnor says from the lounge room.
When I make my way back to where he is slumped over the couch, Blesk is now sitting beside him. They both look exhausted.
After everything he went through, Konnor has always needed a kind of inebriation to function normally. He was on prescription medication for a while, but heâd told us that theyâd made him feel numb. I close the gap between us and slide onto his lap, cuddling his neck. âForget about what happened out there. Iâm so proud of you for giving up drinking.â I lean back and measure him up with my eyes. âHow long has it been?â I glance at Blesk. âHow did you get him to stop?â
Blesk gazes at Konnor, her eyes lapping up the sight of him, full of pride and love. âItâs been three weeks. The day after we left here. . . after that horrible conversation about Dustin Nerrock. He poured all his alcohol down the sink. Just like that. And it has nothing to do with me. He wanted to do it. Heâs my hero.â
âMine too,â I say.
Konnor returns my embrace, his body trembling due to the withdrawal. âItâs been fucking hard,â he says, his voice weak.
I shuffle off his lap and onto the adjoining seat. âWhy didnât you tell any of us you were going through this?â
He looks to Blesk and shrugs. âI had Duch.â
âThank you so much for being there for my brother, Blesk. You have been so wonderful. I donât know where he found you, but I wanna keep you.â I feel myself getting emotional. âWeâd all just accepted heâd always be a drinker. Donât say it has nothing to do with you because it does. Thank you.â
âYou donât need to thank me,â she says. âKonnor is the strongest person in the world. He would have done it eventually. I know it.â
A single tear slides down my cheek and now Iâm jumping on Blesk and hugging her tight. âI think I love you.â
She giggles into my hair. âIâm taken.â We both laugh as I return to my seat opposite them. I grab my long strawberry-blonde hair, still straightened from the wedding, and pull it down one shoulder.
I smile at him tightly. âKonnor, Iâm with Max now. You two are going to have to get along. Why donât you like him?â
âWhatâs to like?â Konnor asks with a shrug.
Could it be possible that he doesnât remember that day? The day that Max became my secret obsession. âDonât you remember the day we first met him?â
âCassidy, right now, I barely remember what I had for breakfast.â
âYou were twelve. That kid across the street, Joshua, I think his name was. He stole my yo-yo. Donât you remember that day?â
âI got the ever-loving shit beat out of me with a cricket bat. Yep. Remember it.â
My eyes soften on him. âDo you remember how it ended?â
He rubs his face in contemplation. âUm. I was on the grass. Josh was fucking me up with a cricket bat. Pretty sure, you were screaming. And then some kid weâd never seen before intervened, pulled the bat off Josh, and knocked him out-â Realisation crosses his face. âNo fucking way . . . Was that Max?â
I nod slowly. âHeâs not a bad person, Konnor. Why would he help you if he was? He just stopped the fight and carried on up the street as if nothing had even happen-â When the front door opens and I hear heels making their way through the foyer towards us, I stop talking. Iâm relieved to see Flick appear, looking a little dishevelled from the flight and drive. Her face lights up when she sees Konnor.
âLittle bro!â She drops her bags and jumps on him, as such is the Slater way to welcome our family members. Sheâs up straightaway and staring at Blesk. âYou must be the famous Blesk.â
âIâve heard so much about you. Iâm so excited I finally get to meet you,â Blesk says, shuffling her feet nervously on the carpet.
Flick wanders over to me, hooking her arm around mine. âEveryone in here kinda looks like someone has died.â
I cover her hand with mine. âKonnor just got into a fight with Max.â
Flickâs eyes widen in pretend horror. âAnd youâre still alive to tell your grandchildren the epic tale.â
Konnor feigns a chuckle. âHaha. I punched him. . . once. Fucker barely moved.â Looking guilty, he adds, âHe was humping Cassidy in front of me.â
She pinches my cheek and talks in a baby voice. âNo one will ever be good enough for our little Cassidy.â I make a silly face at her.
Konnor eyes Flick. âSo youâre okay with this?â
âI wasnât,â she admits. âBut Cassidy is eighteen, Konnor, not twelve.â
âHe gets under my skin,â he grumbles. âLike, I canât even explain it.â
Flick laughs. âI promise that I have firmly expressed my concerns, little bro. Iâm doing my job. Iâve mentioned that heâs not the boyfriend type. . . but heâs different with her. She makes him a better person. Iâve seen it.â
âSo thereâs nothing I can say, is there?â He exhales loudly before staring at Blesk and then back at us. âCan you please just be very careful? Keep a bit of Cassidy for Cassidy?â
I smile. âSure.â