Chapter 48 Feeling lighter
Veronica's POV:
If anyone had told me just a week ago that not only would I successfully take down Chase Pemberton in front of half of New York's elite society, but also that I would be stranded in the middle of nowhere at night with none other than Max Ashford—I would have laughed in their face and called them delusional.
Because I was neither reckless nor was I confrontational before... now I've changed.
Here I was, standing outside a broken-down car on some rural highway, looking at the dense trees surrounding us on all sides, breathing in air that somehow felt different. Feeling cleaner... Lighter. Like freedom had a scent, and this was it.
I was finally free from Chase's chains. From his manipulation, his control, his constant presence in my mind.
"Flat tire," Max announced, walking around from the back of his sleek sports car with a slightly apologetic expression. "It's going to take some time to change. Will you be okay out here? I know it's not exactly the glamorous ending to the evening you probably imagined."
"Yes, totally," I said quickly, maybe too quickly. "I'm fine. More than fine, actually."
Because I was. Despite the inconvenience, despite being stranded on a dark road with no cell service and no other cars in sight, I felt oddly at peace. Maybe it was the adrenaline crash after the confrontation. Maybe it was relief. Or maybe it was just the intoxicating sensation of victory.
It became significantly harder... actually, completely impossible... to maintain my composure when Max pulled off his dress shirt and tossed it casually onto the hood of the car.
He was standing there in just his pants now, the moonlight casting silver highlights across his bare chest and shoulders as he bent to retrieve the spare tire from the trunk.
His muscles flexed with each movement, and those tattoos I'd glimpsed before were now fully visible—like dark ink glistening in the moonlight like some kind of beautiful, dangerous art.
I was just completely spellbound, standing there staring like I'd forgotten how to function as a normal human being.
His inky black hair had fallen forward across his forehead, slightly disheveled from the evening's chaos.
He looked effortlessly perfect in that way that should be illegal—like some kind of fantasy come to life... working with his hands to fix a flat tire.
He noticed me staring. Of course, he did.
Those blue eyes flicked up to catch me red-handed, and I watched a smirk curve his lips even as he continued working, his hands steady on the lug wrench.
Heat flooded my cheeks, and I quickly turned away, forcing myself to focus on the trees instead.
Very interesting trees. Fascinating trees.
Much more interesting than Max's bare chest and the way his muscles moved when he—
Stop it, Veronica. Get a grip.
"Were you just checking me out?" Max's voice came from directly behind me, much closer than he'd been a moment ago.
I spun around to find him standing right there, still shirtless, wiping his hands on a cloth he'd pulled from somewhere.
The smirk was still playing at his lips, but there was something else in his expression now—something heated and intense that made my breath catch.
"So what if I was?" I shot back, trying for defiance even as my heart hammered against my ribs. "It never bothered you before..."
"It did bother me," Max said quietly, rougher. His shoulder muscles tensed visibly, and I didn't know if it was from the heat radiating between us or the coolness of the night air against his bare skin. "Veronica, a lot of things you do bother me. Just like how you're biting down on your lip right now."
I hadn't even realized I was doing it until he pointed it out.
My teeth had caught my lower lip in that nervous habit I'd never quite broken, and now his eyes were fixed on my mouth with an intensity that made heat pool low in my stomach.
Damn, he was observant. Sharp. Paying attention to details about me that I didn't even notice myself.
Before I could respond, before I could even process what was happening, Max moved. His hand caught my waist, and suddenly I was being pulled forward—until I collided with his bare chest.
The contact sent electricity racing through every nerve ending.
I could feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of my dress, could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my palms where they'd instinctively come up to rest against him.
"Veronica," Max said, my name sounding different in his voice—deeper, more intimate, like a warning. "I need you to tell me right now if you want me to stop. Because if you don't say something in the next five seconds, I'm going to kiss you. And once I start, I don't think I'll be able to stop."
My mind went blank. Every coherent thought scattered like leaves in wind, leaving behind only sensation—his hands on my waist, his chest against mine, his blue eyes burning into me with barely restrained desire.
I should say something. Should make a joke to defuse the tension, or step back to maintain some professional distance, or remind him that I was with his brother... that it was not okay for me to get intimate with him... that I'd just escaped one complicated relationship and shouldn't complicate another one too—the one I was forming with Theo.
But all those reasonable, rational thoughts died on my lips as I looked up at him and realized with startling clarity that I didn't want to stop this. Didn't want to be careful.
"Then don't stop," I whispered, my voice barely audible even in the quiet night. "Don't stop, Max."
The words had barely left my mouth before his lips were on mine.
The kiss was consuming, demanding, like he'd been holding himself back all evening and had finally been given permission to unleash everything he'd been restraining.
His hand came up to cup the back of my neck, angling my head so he could deepen the kiss, and I melted into him completely.