Dopamine | Adrenaline Book Two

32- Lie To Me

"Be happy, Charles," Max said, relaxing his gaze, visibly exhausted. "And leave me alone." He paused, turning around again to finish removing the top half of his suit. "Not everything is about you," he mumbled to himself.

Those last words hit Charles where it hurt, causing him to lower his defenses. He began to wonder if he had misunderstood everything. It was highly unlikely that anyone, even Max, would give up a title win for any reason. The seed of doubt sprouted in Charles, and he started to cry, realizing how selfish he might have been.

Before he could begin to apologize and retract his statement, Charles took one look at the other man and decided to trust his gut. Wiping away the few tears that had fallen, Charles caught Max off guard and attempted to push him against the wall. However, even with the element of surprise, Max was bigger than him. The attempt left them pressed chest to chest, but in his anger, Charles refused to back down, knowing it would show weakness.

"No, Max. It's because I know you that I have no doubt it was on purpose," he said through gritted teeth, his eyebrows furrowed and looking angrier than he had in a long time. "You're so insufferable. Why can't you just admit it to me?" he continued, his hands gripping Max's undersuit to avoid being pushed away again.

"I'm not saying everything is about me, but this was," he kept eye contact for a second, their faces only inches apart. "You can hate me if you want but don't you dare pity me," he was almost hysterical, wiping away the tears of anger from the scene that had unfolded and the lack of confession from the other man. "Just admit it to me."

Max was silent, internally surprised at Charles' aggressive posture, but outwardly he seemed unfazed. Slowly, he looked down at the brunette's hand grasping his undersuit, his chest burning with anger underneath. "What if I did?" Max provoked, meeting Charles' intense gaze. "What are you going to do about it, Charles? Are you going to hit me?" He raised an eyebrow, then glanced down at their hands again, silence falling in between them.

It seemed like in their silence Charles fantasized the idea, letting his anger take the best out of him, but he did not pull through with it.

"Yes, I let you through, Charles," Max finally confessed, cutting through the silence with a surge of anger over what he had originally thought was a gesture of goodwill. It seemed to him that nothing he ever did would put him on good terms with the Ferrari driver. "And I'd do it again," he frowned, abruptly pushing Charles away.

"You wouldn't have managed to take it away from me if I didn't let you," Max added.

The confession had stung Charles more than the denial. Max truly didn't believe he had what it took to win the championship on his own merit and talent. In anger, Charles slapped Max across his face, ready to give another speech about how offensive his lack of belief in him was but when he tried to form the words, his mind came up blank. Filled with only the regret of having hit him and caved into his feelings. He couldn't understand why Max would throw away his own championship for him and despite the offensive insinuation that Charles couldn't do it alone, he still chose to help him— he wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean.

"You're so-" Charles began a sentence, cutting himself off and attempting to start a new one. "I can't believe-," the frustration at his own lack of coherent thoughts was obvious. "I know what you think of me," he practically spat, unsure if he was referring to Max having no faith in him or that Max had done what he did as an act of love. Regardless, he gave Max no chance to respond before crashing his mouth into his.

There was no thought process behind his actions, only anger and confusion, and the kiss displayed just that. It was rash and messy, his mouth frantically seeking Max's as if he were the antidote to whatever was plaguing him. Charles pressed his chest tightly against Max's, his hand clutching the material of his undersuit so tightly that he could feel his skin underneath. They hadn't touched since the night Max had accused him the second time, and now, his mouth felt like his lungs were filled with air for the first time in ages.