𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ~ | 𝘔𝘢𝘹 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯 (2)

009 || Jealous

⚠ Warning: Smut 

~~~

Two whole weeks in Italy.

It was heaven. I don't know why I was ever against the idea. To be fair, everywhere I went with Max turned into heaven. 

Ugh, being with him had made me so cheesy. I should break up with him.

Today was one of our last days here, sadly. I never wanted to leave. But unfortunately, I still had a job, and so did Max. The season would start in two weeks, and we had to be back.

We had just gotten back from a night out at one of Carlos's favorite restaurants in the area. I was pretty tired. Layla was very full on, so we never really got more than an hour to ourselves.

Dinner did not go exactly as planned. Charles said something that made Lily leave in tears. I had gone to chase after her, but Charles was out the door before I could even stand up. But my mind wasn't focused on that particular incident.

Tonight, there had been something off about Max. I had noticed it in the closing stages of the evening.

He had looked a bit tense, and he hadn't spoken much at all. He also always had some sort of hold on me, like he was scared that if he let me go, I would run. On the car ride home, he had also been quite touchy.

"Do you think Lily's okay?" I asked as we walked up the stairs to our room. Max walked quietly behind me. He didn't say anything. "Max?"

"Hm?" He sounded like he had just been deep in thought.

"Nevermind." I chuckled to myself.

"Goodnight!" Layla called to us from further down the hall. I smiled and waved back at her before I felt the familiar hand on my waist, pulling me into the room. Max shut the door behind me, turning the lock with a click.

"Sabrina." His voice was husky, and his eyes were dark and intense. I felt a shiver run down my spine.

"Max, what's wrong? You seemed off during dinner." I asked him, my voice soft and concerned.

He let out a small chuckle, walked over to the bed, and sat down, patting the spot beside him. "Come here."

"Now you're making me nervous." I said with a small laugh, walking over to him and sitting down on the bed. I felt his hand find mine, lacing our fingers together. "What's going on, Max?" I asked softly, looking up into his eyes.

He sighed, running his free hand through his hair before looking back at me. "I was jealous," he admitted. "I saw you talking to that waiter; the way he was looking at you... and I just..." He trailed off, searching for the words. "I just didn't like it."

"I was just being nice..." I started to explain, looking down at our intertwined hands. "He was just doing his job."

"You didn't see the way he was looking at you." Max's voice was firm but gentle.

I wanted to protest, to tell him that he was being ridiculous, that I was on holiday, and that I could talk to whoever I wanted. But somehow, the tone in his voice made it hard to argue. "You don't trust me?" I asked, feeling a twinge of hurt.

Max looked at me searchingly. "Of course I trust you," he said. "It's not that. It's just..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

I felt a knot form in my stomach. "Just what?" I prompted.

"It's just that..." Max started, then stopped, seeming to struggle with the words. He sighed and looked at me, his expression conflicted. "I just don't want anyone else looking at you the way I do."