Is silly season over yet? - @user76520
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MONACO
SUMMER SHUTDOWN
JULY
I feel so out of place. Was this how Max felt when I took him to mine for the first time? It's like I'm stepping into someone's private sanctuary.
Yet Max isn't treating it with anywhere near the amount of nervous behaviour as I did. He's all smiles, taking my suitcase from me and carrying it along with his to the door of his luxury Monaco apartment. Even though I could carry it myself, he's already gone, off to the door before I can stop him.
This feels so mad. As he opens the door and steps in first, I feel like... This is insane.
Just under two months ago, we sort of admitted there was attraction and thought we'd see where it would lead. A month ago, I let him into my home - and I've never even let Liam or the others into my small flat. Now I'm stepping into Max's home. It feels like it's happened all too fast, yet... is it really too fast? Hell, my dad thinks it's been too long.
"Jess?" Max's concerned voice and gentle hand on my shoulder brings me back to reality. Right. Into his home. I let him guide me inside, and although I expected I'd be hit with awe, I'm not. It's more shock at how similar it feels to my place.
Don't get me wrong - the place is beautiful. There's plenty of room compared to my small flat, but it's simple. Almost minimalist. I think my expectation of some massive, open-plan, high-end place was pretty dumb now that I'm seeing more of a down-to-earth home. Well, down-to-earth for a person living in bloody Monaco. I'm sure we'll be laughing over it pretty soon.
He leads me down a small hallway, to a room with blue walls and a decently-sized double bed. My suitcase is already in the room. I really must have been just dazing at his doorway like an idiot. I give the walls another look; they're painted in mid to light shades, with darker blue lines segmenting them into diamond and triangular-like shapes. The other three walls are a plain middling shade of blue. The chest of drawers standing against the wall opposite the end of the bed has dark blue drawers with light oak housing. The lamp sat on top has a simple white shade. This is all so very basic. It's familiar, in a way.
"Do you mind if the cats come into the room at night? They like sleeping with people."
"As long as I don't have to let my stomach be used as a launching pad, I don't mind... where are they?" How could I have forgotten about them? I don't see them around, which is odd. I should've seen them make a bolt straight for him when we entered.
"Over here, I asked the sitter to make sure they wouldn't be able to escape."
I follow him to a closed door; when he opens it, the living room is revealed. The TV is huge. I can see what I think is a strip of LED lights around the edge. The two cats come running at Max, pausing only because of me, the stranger in their home.
"I call them Toto and Lewis when they're misbehaving." Max says as I crouch down to make myself non-threatening to the felines. They look like Bengals. That doesn't surprise me. Why not get the breed you want if you have the money to choose?
"Where's the other one? The one you were looking at?"
"Ah, he didn't get on with them. I had to find him a new home. He's with one of my neighbours."
"That's a shame." I mumble, as one of the cats finally deems me worthy enough to have my hand nuzzled. "But it happens. Sometimes they just don't get on. I've heard it can be common with Bengals and other breeds like them... But it could also just be they didn't like each other. Shit happens, you know?"
Max joins me as I move to sit fully on the floor, giving one of the two a hearty ear scratch that gets a loud purr out of the cat. "She likes you."
"Cats are usually pretty good at knowing when they've found a soft touch like me." The scratches aren't enough now; I'm having to fully pet the cat with a bit more energy. "You know, I would've pinned you as a Savannah cat owner. They're bigger and more energetic... but they aren't too noisy. Apparently. I've never owned one, so I'm just going off what little I've heard about them."
"They're a lot more work."
"That's a fair point." I look away from the cat that's purring like an engine, finding that Max is watching me. Heat rushes around the back of my neck, into my face. Nerves force me to smile and try to look away.
Thankfully, the momentary awkwardness I feel is broken by a rapping of knuckles at the door. Max jumps to his feet and heads to the front door. The cats abandon me and run off to hide in another room. I reluctantly get up - my legs are stiff from the race weekend - and follow Max at a distance. He's speaking to a young woman at the door. I've no clue what they're saying, only that they're talking in French. She hands over some keys, spots me, waves and promptly leaves.
"Isabella." Max tells me as he shuts the door and walks back towards me. "She lives down the hall. The cats love her."
Ah, she's the cat sitter.
I follow Max back to the living room; he snatches up a remote to turn the TV on, before going to the right- his living room and kitchen layout are very similar to my home. It's another echo of familiarity.
"Coffee? Tea?" He wiggles his brows, fetching a blue and silver can from his large fridge, shaking it in my direction. "Red Bull?"
It's not even funny, but the smile on his face, and the way he's posed the question have me laughing.
"Sorry, I'm banned from energy drinks. Claire's orders."
"Wow." The can is returned to the fridge as he settles on making coffee. "You're on a really strict diet, huh?"
"Well I do have a tendancy to break it for chocolate... a lot. And honestly, I'm terrible at planning meals anyway, so it's easier to stick with whatever Claire says I should be eating."
He hums in response as the smell of brewing coffee fills the room. "I'm bad at food too. Cooking is boring."
"Cooking is boring? Okay, we're fixing that first thing tonight."

YOU ARE READING
Turbulence [𝗠.𝗩.]
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