How Do You Like Your Eggs? Pt. 07

Hello my loves,

Here is another installment. I'll preface this with a couple warnings.

First, this is short. We're coming to the end of the line for Maxie and Nathan. There will probably only be 1 or 2 more parts for them. I don't need, or like to write, super long chapters. After a while it gets boring, and I like to break up the storyline, just to keep it fresh (despite the constant rallying cry for longer chapters). I figure, the content of the work speaks for itself, not the length.

Second, this story, while it started that way, wasn't solely about sex. I like writing stories about the emotion and connection between two people, with a little sex thrown in.

Lastly, I'm probably going to be taking a break from Literotica. Again. Lol.

So, thank you to all who've read, commented on, and enjoyed this little tale. You guys don't know it, but you actually helped me a great deal in getting back to this writing thing. I love ya, I love ya, I love ya!

So, I dedicate the remainder of this story to you beautiful creatures.

Love Always,

~EJ~

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Four days go by after the argument.

Four days. Four whole days of missed connections. Four days of missed phone calls, fly-by texts, and stilted conversations about nothing in particular.

The air in Maxie's apartment is as warm and welcoming as ever, though there's something else there. It's quiet. Easy to miss if you don't know what to look for.

I'd like to blame it on our schedules. There's still a lot going on with the construction of the new hotel; Maxie is picking up extra shifts at the restaurant while she looks for something more steady. We haven't talked about what happened between us.

We both seem to be keeping busy, however I know the argument is still hanging over our heads.

I miss the other Maxie. She's still my funny, foul-mouthed, easily-excitable Maxie. But, there's a tightness now at the corners of her mouth when she smiles that wasn't there before. I can see the shadow that flits behind her eyes when she looks at me.

"Why don't we get away for a couple days, Maxie," I say while we lay in her bed, naked, allowing the cool evening air to dry the sweat on our skin.

Her bare legs is thrown carelessly across my hips, giving my wandering fingers free rein over the smooth flesh of her thigh.

"Just the two of us," I add, when she doesn't immediately respond. "Somewhere quiet."

The muscles in her leg tighten as she flexes her foot.

"Is this not quiet enough for you, sir?" she asks, her voice as teasing as it is sleepy.

"You know what I mean, woman."

Her eyes are closed. I watch the play of light over the contours of her face. The fullness of her soft lips begs to be covered with mine.

There's a long pause, then she sighs, releasing the air in a slow, steady stream through her nose.

"I can't, Nathan," she says, quietly. "I've got work."

"I didn't say when."

She finally opens her eyes, stares back at me for a long moment. "Until I can find another gig, I'm pretty much working all the time." Although her voice is soft, the warning there is unmistakable.

Maybe I'm tired of beating around the bush; maybe I'm anxious because I can feel her slipping away from me; maybe I'm tired of trying to ignore this wall that's suddenly been erected between us. Whatever the reason, I take us back to where this all began.

"I told you, you don't have to worry about that, Max."

I can feel the tension rocket through her, her eyes going hard as she begins to slide her leg off of me.

"Don't," I say in warning, and cup my hand under her knee to hold her in place as I turn toward her more fully. Anger and frustration slither through my chest, forming a knot as thick and tight as steel. "Talk to me, Maxie. Tell me what's happenin' here."

She leans her top half away from me, clearly wanting to get up, to put some distance between us, but my hand on her leg keeps her where she is.

"Nothing's happening here, Nathan. I work. I can't just drop everything and run away with you."

"Because you can't afford to."

It's a statement, not a question. I'm saying what she is unwilling to.

And that lights a fire in her.

She wrenches her leg from my grasp and practically launches herself out of bed.

"Ok, fuck you, Nathan!"

She storms over to the dresser, yanks open a couple drawers in her search for clothing.

"Did that make you feel good to say?"

I sit up in bed. "Hell, no! Do you have to throw a fit every time I offer to do something nice for you?"

"This," she hisses, tugging a t-shirt over her head before pointing a thin index finger in her own face "is nowhere close to throwing a fit." She tugs on a pair of cotton shorts. "I don't understand why we're even arguing about this. This is stupid," she grouses.

A part of me warns to slow down, that whatever happens next could be the make-or-break of this budding relationship. I can see the line she's drawn; her unwillingness to let me past it spells trouble.

"I don't want to argue with you, Max," I say, as calmly as I can considering the weight of what's happening in this room. " How can I help if you won't let me?"

Her little fist comes down on the edge of the dresser. "I don't need you to help me, Nathan!"

And, there it is. Even if she hasn't practically screamed the word, I would have seen the glaring red flag. She doesn't want to need me. Doesn't want to have to rely on me.

The silence that follows is deafening.

I slip slowly out of bed and move cautiously toward her, as if she's a bird I don't wish to frighten off. She shies away from my outstretched hand, folding her arms tightly over her stomach. There are tears glistening in her dark brown eyes and I can feel my heart cracking open.

"I was married to someone for 4 years, Max. Someone who only saw my money when she looked at me. Everything I had, everything I gave her..." I shake my head. "It was never enough. She didn't marry me for me. She married my bank account.

"But, you... You're different. You don't want any of it, and the horrifying part of it all is, my money seems like what's going to ruin us."

Her eyes snap up to me. "Nathan," she breathes, my name escaping her on a shaking exhalation.

She doesn't back off when I take her hand. Doesn't pull away when I wrap my arms around her shoulders.

"I don't want to be someone you need, Maxie," I tell her. I rest my chin on the top of her head, glad when she circles her arms around my waist. "I don't want you to have worry. Ever. About anything. Wanna talk about need? Hell, I need you. More than you think."

She turns her head into my chest, her fingers sliding over the bare skin of my ribs. She's softened some. My hold tightens on her.

"I'm not crazy," she murmurs. "Contrary to what my current behavior says.

"The thought never crossed my mind."

She laughs softly, pulling away enough to look up into my face.

I cup her face in my hands, bend low to press a gentle kiss to her waiting lips. The hardness is gone, though I'm uncertain if it's for good.

Her fingers curl around my wrists, holding me as I hold her.

"When I was a kid," she says. "My mom was seeing this guy. He was pretty well off, at least from where my little kid mind could understand.

"When mom broke things off with him, I learned a couple hard lessons. One of which was that love comes at a price. This point was made especially clear to me when he started ripping up the carpet that he'd had installed the previous spring. He was so mad, he didn't even want to leave my mom with that."

I hope the horror, the anger, doesn't show on my face. Don't want to think of a little Maxie witnessing such a thing.

She licks her lips. Allows me to brush away the single tear that's slipping down her smooth cheek.

"I can't let you take the carpet, Nathan."

"I won't."

She presses her face into my chest again, squeezes me as if she's afraid to let me go.

"But, what if you do?"

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