Page 17 of Unbreakable Thread

“It’s unfair how he always wins.” He’s so good that he should join the chess club at school.

“You will need to find a game you’re good at, and he’s not. Max has been playing chess for a long time. He whips us all.” All girls love Drake. Even my friends at school say my foster brother is hot. I roll my eyes at them. “Here.” He shoves his hands in his jeans pocket and pulls out caramel candies. “For the stash.” Max and I reach for them excitedly. “Lynn sent them for you guys.”

His girlfriend is stunning. He always has his hands all over her. “Tell her thanks. She’s so sweet.”

Drake’s dimple indents. “She is. How about we go inside? I’ll find us something to eat. Maybe Jason’s asleep already.”

We climb down the wooden ladder. My smile widens when Max curls his pinky with mine.

Memories like these, I live for. The smile on Max’s face as a kid puts a grin on mine.

“What a smile you have on your beautiful face.”

My hands go to my chest, startled. I was so lost in the memories that I didn’t hear him come in from the back. “You scared me, you sneaky man.”

His sexy smile widens. Max’s gentle hand covers my neck. Our gazes connect as always, and a swarm of butterflies takes flight in my belly. His lips slant on mine with an open kiss, my tongue caressing his. With one hand on my bottom, he lifts me onto the metal table. The kiss is deep and passionate. My body liquefies against his. A moan leaves my lips, followed by a groan from Max.

The way he’s kissing me is bruising with desperation, his teeth catching my bottom lip, his breath hot and ragged against my mouth. My fingers run through his black hair, thick and slightly damp at the nape of his neck, curling around the strands as if I could anchor myself against the storm of his need.

He drinks from my lips as if it were a shot of aged whiskey poured neatly into a crystal glass. His mouth is warm against mine, sending a touch of electric spark down my spine, spreading through my limbs until the initial burn mellows into something smoother, the way good bourbon slides across your tongue. His stubble grazes my chin as he pulls away, leaving my skin tingling like a lingering empty glass. I’m breathless and completely melting. His wicked lips are my addiction.

“Wow, what was that for?” I say, trying to catch my breath. Max’s lips are red and swollen. He’s dressed to the nines in his black slacks and dark blue button-down shirt. He looks incredibly delicious.

“Am I not allowed to kiss my woman?”

My hands rub on his chest. “Oh, you are absolutely allowed to kiss your woman.” My face heats when I peer into his eyes. I think about those times when we would peck at each other’s lips. We were young, innocent kids. He completely flustered me. Of course, I was so straightforward that my mom and dad were probably rolling in their graves. My dad used to say, “No boyfriends until you’re thirty.” Well, Dad, I met a boy who captured my heart.

Max licks his lips to savor every drop. “Now tell me, what has my girl grinning like the sunshine she is?”

For once, I tell him the truth. “You.”

He points at himself playfully. “Me.”

“A memory I had.”

“Ahh, I get it. From last night. I knew it would be good to have you daydream about it.”

I shake my head, laughing. “No, that’s not it.” Although it was spectacular. “It was us as kids… God, you were good at chess. Annoyingly good.”

He wags his dark brows, then peers at me as if lost in time. Max’s fingers wrap around a lock of my hair. “I whooped your ass every time. Didn’t I?”

“I let you.” I roll my eyes, and he laughs even harder. A part of me feels a twinge of relief at admitting something about our childhood. It’s the horrible things that I have a hard time talking to him about—the grief of it all.

“Oh, yeah?”

“You know I was in the chess club in middle school; seventh and eighth grade.”

He bites his lip to stifle his laugh. He doesn’t believe it, but it’s true. I never mentioned this to him because I didn’t know we had a history involving chess.

“I’m not joking, honey. I did. You know, what’s strange? I remember asking Mom for a chess game at the store. She bought it for me, along with a book on how to play. I might not have remembered our fights over chess, but my heart seems to have. I became so good that I entered the chess club. Even ask Lana. She’ll tell you how competitive I became.”

Max folds his arms across his chest, listening to my every word. “Really? It’s hard to believe, baby, but I’d like a rematch.”

“Anytime. I’m ready for you this time.”

“Challenge accepted. How about we play adult chess?” He drops a playful kiss on my neck.

“What the hell is adult chess?”