Page 8 of Invisible String (The Underground #1)

MAX

W orking out has always served as a distraction from my personal life.

This morning, I went for a jog, then spent time fixing and cleaning my car until Rainey nearly ran me over.

Later, I headed downtown; I sat to chill.

A crazy chick came to sit with me. I had noticed Rainey when I heard her voice.

Her sweet voice hums like a golden harp.

One thing I had not expected was to feel something strange when the guy came to sit next to her.

The need to strangle him was there. Not sure why I care so much still.

“Because it’s Rainey,” a little voice says in my head.

When she questioned if my parents owned the cabin, I freaked out.

Any other person I can bullshit them with lies mainly because it’s none of their damn business, but with Rainey, lying to her felt like a punch to the gut, especially because I consumed half of her lunch.

Although I was hungry, I didn’t want to spend the little money I had on a thirty-dollar meal and not have enough to last me.

There was no way I would walk out and not pay for the meal I had eaten.

I swing the door open when I hear a knock interrupting my workout. Sweat rolls down my body. Rainey’s smile has my heart doing crazy, weird shit.

“Hey,” she says breathlessly. Her gaze rolls over my bare chest.

“Hi.” I lick my lips, unsure how to address her or what to say. I’m not the type of man who knows how to host. Cálmate.

“After being so close to hitting you with my car, I wanted to apologize with the cookies and red velvet cupcakes I made last night.” Rainey’s lips go into a straight line.

Damn, do I want to taste them. I shake those wild thoughts out of my head. I need to calm down. No one has ever been this generous to me as she has. No one but Carlos, his wife, and three foster siblings from my past.

“Thanks, but you didn’t have to.” I take them from her hand, unsure what else to say. Inviting her in only leads to us having to talk, and that’s the last thing I want to do. What would I talk to her about? I have nothing going for myself. I’m fucking homeless.

“I wanted to. Besides, I made a shitload, and I love to bake.” She rocks on her heels. “Umm, would you like to join me for dinner? It’s okay if you can’t. I just don’t enjoy eating alone.”

Dinner? Equals bad idea.

“All right.” What the hell! No, no. This woman blocks every cell in my brain.

“Great. How about six?” She smiles widely.

“Okay.”

“See you in a bit.”

She walks backward, almost tumbling down the steps, but my fast reflexes catch her. My arms wrap around her small frame. Her palm glides down my bare chest, and my groin hardens at her touch. She smells of vanilla and spice.

“S…sorry.”

It’s good to know I make her nervous, too.

“Are you alright?” I ask, still holding on to her.

She’s still wearing the yellow dress she had on earlier, showing enough chest to make a man’s mind go crazy.

Yellow always reminds me of Sol, the girl who lived in my foster home—who vividly lives in my memory.

I help her to her feet and then gather the desserts from the floor, along with the money she had hidden from earlier. “Dammit, I’m sorry…toss the cookies. I’ll get you more.”

I take a bite. Holy shit, these are so good. I’ve never had a cookie that melts in your mouth. “Wow. They’re amazing.”

“Max, they have dirt on them.”

“I dusted it off, and a little dirt won’t hurt anyone.

” When you live your life in different homes, you experience starvation to the point you seek food where you can.

“And here, take the money.” She takes it from my hand, then shoves it in my sweaty workout shorts, nearly touching my cock.

How in the hell does this woman do it? Why is it she can always touch me without making my skin crawl?

My treacherous body wants her hands all over me.

“I enjoy your company, Max. Save it. Maybe next time you can take me out, and we can enjoy a meal together. As friends, of course.” She blushes. “See you soon.” She waves, going to her place.

The aroma of home-cooked food wafts through the light breeze.

Whatever she’s making smells delicious. Her cookies are the best I’ve ever had.

I stand at the front door, unsure of what to do once I’m in front of her.

She and I are the complete opposite. While she has lived with a loving family her whole life, I floated around.

It all started the day my mother died. My life did a one-eighty.

I lost it all—my mother and my father. Me.

“Hey, you.” Rainey’s sweet voice startles me. “I heard steps, but no knock.”

“Could have been a bear? Or some crazy fucker in the forest, and you just open the door?”

She waves me in, stepping to the side. “I looked out the window, you dork.”

My stomach grumbles at the aroma of the food.

Rainey changed into some short shorts. My gaze rolls over her body, toned legs, tight ass, curvy, and fucking beautiful.

I’m not the type of man who pays attention to women’s hair, but Rainey, I can’t help but pay attention to everything about her, especially her cinnamon-silky hair.

The thought of it wrapped around my fist.

Fuck. Nope, not going there.

“I hope you’re a fan of spaghetti and meatballs.” She leans into the stove, stirring a pot.

This house is a little bigger than Mike’s parents’ place. It has warmth and family photos hanging on the wall. “It’s actually my favorite.” Growing up, my mom made it with cooked ground beef and sauce.

She looks at me over her shoulder. “Good.”

Damn that smile.

“The rolls will be ready in five minutes. Would you like a drink?”

“You made bread?” I’m impressed. It says a lot. I don’t get impressed easily. “I’ve never had fresh bread before.”

She spins to face me. “It’s your lucky day, Max.” She opens the fridge. “So, what do you want? I have water, Dr. Pepper, iced tea, cherry cola, and red wine. Sorry, I don’t have beer.”

“I’ll have a Dr. Pepper.”

“Good choice.” She praises me like a child. “Make yourself at home. You can sit at the table or on the sofa. The remote is on the coffee table.” She hands me a can of Dr. Pepper.

This is probably one of the most awkward things I’ve done. I know it’s normal to many, but for me, it’s not.

It has me wondering how many guys she’s hosted that she does it so freely.

I sit on the fluffy sofa as Rainey takes a pan of rolls out of the oven.

The pit of my stomach turns with those thoughts.

I shouldn’t care. I’ll be gone soon. With a flick of my thumb, I pop the soda open. “Do you need help?” I offer.

“Ahh, no, I got it.”

“Do you live here?” I ask.

“No, this is my parents’ vacation home. I’m attending the university in Reno. My parents are having problems, and I didn’t want to be around it, so I came to spend the summer here.”

She moves fluidly around the kitchen, taking plates out and adding noodles, then the sauce and meatballs.

“Are you staying for the summer or only a couple of weeks?”

She sets the plates on the table. “More than likely the whole summer.” She steps away from the table with her hands and gestures at the food. “Ta-Da! Dinner is served.”

We sit. It all looks delicious. Rainey sits across from me.

“Wow, it looks great. My mom used to always make me spaghetti.” With the fork, I twirl the spaghetti and take a mouthful. The flavors combust in my mouth, taking me back to the little boy I once was. The one with a happy smile on his face.

“I made my own sauce. It’s my mom’s recipe…I hope I’m not prying, but you said used to? Did your mom?—”

“Yes, she passed when I was six.” She is the first person I’ve shared a tad bit of my personal life with.

I haven’t spoken of my mother in years, not because I don’t want to speak of her.

It’s because no one has given a shit about my life to ask, and if they asked, it wasn’t because they cared.

It was to meddle in my life. Why did my parents leave me?

What led me into foster care? She places her warm hand over mine.

Being pitied is the last thing I want from her, but she doesn’t.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Max. I bet she was a beautiful woman. Is she who you got your green eyes from?”

“Yeah, she was beautiful, and yes, I have her eyes.” I wish I had further memories to remember her by.

“You have pretty eyes, Max. She gave you such a gorgeous gift.”

Ah, damnit. Heat rushes to my ears with an unfamiliar feeling. I’m not keen on compliments. Not that women haven’t called me sexy or hot. They have, but this woman rattles me. I can’t fall under her spell. Again.

“Bread’s good,” I mumble, taking another bite of bread. My way to veer off the topic, and I don’t intend to tell her how things went after my mother passed. I don’t need her to pity me, and I boarded up that part of my life.

“Thank you.” Rainey lets go of my hand to proceed to eat her dinner. We stay silent for a couple of minutes. I’m halfway done devouring my food. I chunk off a piece of bread and dip it into my sauce.

When she giggles, I look up from my plate. “Great minds think alike,” she says, dipping her bread in the sauce.

My lips twitch.

“What do you do in Vegas? Party? Gamble?”

“Working and boxing.”

One sexy brow rises. “Boxing, huh? Well, you sure have the frame of one. And you have huge biceps. How long have you been boxing?”

“Since I was sixteen.” I stand and take my plate to the sink and wash it. Rainey stands next to me. “Oh, no Max, I got it.”

I shake my head at her. It’s the least I can do for her.

She cooked an amazing dinner. “Hand me your plate. You can put the food in containers, and I’ll wash the pans for you.

You cooked, I’ll wash.” Suddenly, this feels like something couples do.

Technically, I’m just being a good guest. That reminds me.

“Do you host a lot? Like, cook for them?”

“Sometimes. My mom loves to host.” She pours sauce into a container, then hands the pan to me. “Lana and I sometimes cook at our college apartment. You remember Lana, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Once I’m done washing dishes, I thank her and let her know I’m going to head back next door. She asked if I wanted to stay and watch a movie, but that’s not my style. As much as I enjoyed her company, I’m used to being alone.

The sun is blazing today. I jog back to the house after my afternoon run. I’ve been keeping myself busy by going hiking and jogging. It’s been a couple of days since I’ve spoken to Rainey. Since the day she invited me for dinner. She handed me a container of leftovers, which I appreciate.

When she comes out of the house, I’m inside.

When I leave, she’s inside. There have been a couple of times she sits outside reading or in the hot tub.

From the living room window, I could see her glance toward the cabin from where I’m sitting.

I’ll admit I’ve avoided her like the plague.

Rainey is like the sun, bright, warm, and full of energy.

She changes my mood, adding speckles of light to my dark heart.

She’s been on my mind day and night. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?

Nothing.

Nearing the house, I hear laughs and shouts from men and women.

My entire body idles. Rainey sits on top of the hot tub.

Next to her, a girl and two guys are in the bubbling water.

One of them is standing between her friend’s legs, his head tilted back, while she runs her hands down his chest. The other guy is talking to Rainey, laughing at something she’s saying. She’s in a bikini.

A wrenching punch to the gut consumes me with jealousy.

Is that what it is, jealousy? What am I jealous of?

That she had me over for dinner and eye fucked me while eating or how she seemed disappointed that I’m leaving in a couple of weeks.

Or the fact that she’s been on my mind, a siren calling me to her when she has a boyfriend.

Maybe I took it the wrong way, and she just wanted to be friends either way.

It’s not like I planned on having a relationship with her.

“Hey, is that Max? Rainey, is it him?” the woman next to Rainey asks as she waves at me. Whoever it is, she must have spoken about me.

“Yes, Lana.” Rainey groans. “Hey, Max! You want to come over and have a drink?”

She’s got to be kidding me. Does she want me to dunk her boyfriend in the water until he turns blue? Or chop his fucking hand off for rubbing her leg. Again, why in the hell do I care? “Nah, I’m good,” I say dryly, walking up the stairs to the porch.

“Okay. Well, have a good night,” she says in a soft voice.

I nod. The sun is setting, so she can still see me. I slam the door with great force. It rattles behind me.

I grab a Modelo from the empty fridge and slam the door shut.

I’m not big on drinking—only when it’s needed.

Today’s one of those days I need a beer and maybe a joint.

Instead, I take a cup of ramen from the cupboard, add water, and then stick it in the microwave.

Once the microwave beeps, I retrieve it and head to the back porch, so I don’t see the front of the house.

Luckily, the back porch has a hot tub and faces the forest. Leaning on a wooden rustic chair, I take a bite of noodles.

My breath comes out heavy as I try to control my jealousy. I didn’t come here for this shit. I didn’t come here to sniff a chick’s ass; I had other plans. Usually, when I feel a sense of overwhelming, I hit the bags, but right now, ripping off the jackass’s face fills me with need.

The doorbell rings, taking me out of my murderous thoughts. I swing the door open to find a soaked woman in a bikini. A hot, sexy one, that is.