At the Right Time

Chapter Thirteen

Rylie ~ Five and a half years ago

I close the door to my room, fighting off the urge to be embarrassed. I was vulnerable with Maxwell and he couldn't say anything?

He could've given me something, even if it wasn't the whole story.

When I saw the bruises again today, my stomach twisted.

I figure he's only pushing me away because he doesn't want to talk about it, but I thought putting myself out there might sway him a little.

Clearly, I was wrong.

Now, I get to spend a week in this house alone with him while it's awkward.

Like, hey, Maxwell. Yes, I did try to kiss you better and you basically ignored me. Want to order a pizza?

I'm so stupid. I don't know what I was thinking.

I pull out my paint supplies and canvas. I've been working on a painting of this house for days.

My vision is to paint the outside on a big canvas, and the inside on smaller ones to create one big project.

I love bringing my ideas to life. I hope I can make a career out of this, but right now, I'm okay with doing it for fun.

I submerge myself into the task, letting my worrisome thoughts about Maxwell to be forgotten a moment.

I was supposed to go on vacation with the Rossi's, but Hudson is getting ready to go on tour, and I decided I'd see him some this week before he's gone for a few months.

I'm painting windows onto my dream house when my bedroom door bursts open. I jump, seeing Maxwell in the doorway with an unreadable expression on his face.

He's still not wearing a shirt, but I refuse to let my eyes fall to his bruises.

Instead, I look at his sharp jaw that's flexed. And to his eyes that are proving to be as dark as his secrets.

I place my paint brush down, but I don't say anything.

If he won't talk to me, I won't beg him.

Maxwell walks closer, and I stand from where I was sitting on the floor.

"I have a sister." His voice sounds raw, almost like he's sick, but I know he isn't.

"I know..." I tilt my head at him, unsure where this is going.

"No. I'm not talking about Rachel." He sighs, staring at me a long moment before continuing. I'm frozen to my spot. "My mom didn't have me with Rachel's dad. I have his last name because he legally adopted me, and he's the father that counts. But I have another biological dad. That's who I go to see every weekend."

"And you have another sister?" I keep my voice soft though my nerves are screaming at the information. How many people know this?

"Yeah." Maxwell smiles. "Her name is Sophie. She just turned eight. She goes to a private school, but she gets to come home on the weekends. My biological dad is a businessman. He makes bank."

"But he..." I can't finish the sentence, because I'm struggling to piece it together.

"Sophie's mom didn't want her. She signed over her rights, thinking it was a good decision. Truthfully, my dad didn't want her, either. So, he ships her off. She loves her school, thankfully." Maxwell looks to me, and the pain on his face makes my chest ache. "If I'm there, when he gets drunk, he doesn't mess with her."

I can't help my sharp intake of breath.

Maxwell stays at his dad's on the weekend, but not for his dad. For his sister. To protect her.

"Why don't you tell someone? Fight back?" A million questions come to mind, but those two are the most prominent. I feel the tears spilling over my eyes, but I can't control it.

"She's got a good life, Rylie. She's in a private school, getting a top tier education. He doesn't hurt her. I make sure of it. If I were to tell someone she'd end up in the foster system and possibly in a situation worse than the one she's in now." Maxwell runs a hand through his hair, "If I were to fight back, he wouldn't let me come over anymore and then I couldn't protect her."

I guess it makes sense, but it seems so fucked up.

"He's a smart mother fucker. Even when he's drunk, he doesn't hit me anywhere that'll be visible with clothes on."

"There's got to be something you can do."

"I'm working on it." Maxwell takes a step closer to me. "Don't cry for me, Ryles."

"You deserve better." I whisper and he rushes over to me, closing the distance. His arms encircle me and I bury my head into his chest, careful to be gentle and not hurt him.

"You deserve better than what you got, too."

I tilt my head up, looking at the boy in front me. The popular one, the best basketball player, the one that every body wants to know.

Broken.

Just like me.

Broken people aren't weak. They're strong. They're the people who have fought like hell.

His words echo back at me.

Maxwell was talking about himself that night just as much as he was talking about me.

"No one knows, Rylie. No one knows the whole story. Only you."

I nod, realizing I'm the one that's speechless now.

He holds me tightly, letting one hand come up to my hair and get tangled at the nape of my neck.

"You see right through me. It drives me crazy. I've never wanted someone like I want you."

My stomach flip-flops.

The truth is, I want him, too.

When I found out he'd been coming into my room every night, I might should've been mad, but I was weirdly comforted.

Maxwell tries to act like he doesn't care, but it's the opposite.

"I feel the same way." I manage to say through my mixture of butterflies and the emotions I'm still feeling from all he told me.

"You know we shouldn't." He murmurs, staring right at my lips.

"I know."

"I want to kiss you."

"I want you to."

His lips meet mine softly at first, but the kisses quickly grow harder. His hand stays tangled in my hair while his other arm holds me steady. I lean into him, standing up on my tiptoes to reach him.

He tastes like whiskey and he smells like cologne. His tongue sweeps my bottom lip and I part my lips for him. I'm almost dizzy from pleasure, I can only imagine what everything else with him would feel like.

When he pulls away, I'm seeing stars.

I want to do so much more.

"Go to bed, Rylie, so I can come hold you."

"Just lay down with me." I'm practically begging him.

"If I do that, we won't get any sleep."

I want to tell him that would be fine with me, but I know we shouldn't rush things either.

"Goodnight, little girl."

Maxwell places one more quick kiss on my lips, then turns and leaves me tingling all over. I resist the urge to do a happy dance when he leaves my room, and I wear an ear-to-ear grin.