Werewolf Boyfriend: Max Part Three (special preview)

There’s a morning where I wake up and I realize it’s cold. I sit up in bed to see that, beyond my window, the world is white. It has never occurred to me how long I had been in Hearthway Hollow, only that I am here at all. 

I step out onto the porch to see winter, gazing in childlike bewilderment as the snow falls. I step closer to the screen, breathing out puffs of thick, white steam into the air. The world is quiet and tranquil, time has stopped, I can feel magic in the air.

“You’re going to catch a cold if you’re not careful.”

I look up as Max approaches and smile at him. “I got so excited, I couldn’t hold back. I wanted to see it.”

“You like the snow?” He asks.

“Very much,” I whisper. “I always preferred the cold to the heat.” I had become aware of my feelings for Max a long time ago, but I ignored them. I pushed them way down inside me and convinced myself he was only my friend. But there are moments where things are quiet and it’s just the two of us, that those feelings being to wiggle their fingers from the locked box I shoved them in. Right now, in the cold and snow, they’ve reached out enough I want to hold his hand, or worse.

Max’s soft laugh adds to the magic of the world. “You’re only in pajamas, Elisa. You best go get dressed in something warm. Or at least put on some slippers.”

Recently, Max’s daughter, Helene, had set him up with a friend of hers, some glamorous older woman who had four sons. She had come over a couple of times, the two looked well together. It would be best for him to go for someone his age rather than, well, me. I try to convince myself I was happy for him, but being dumb hurts sometimes.

“I’ll get the fireplace started for you,” Max says. “So the living room will be warm while you work today.”

Since I got here I had cleaned, restored, and repaired more than a dozen paintings from his collection. Some he had donated, others he had sold. The stack of paintings marked off by Carlotta are still in the basement. I want to do those together, so that way, the girls can get them all at once. 

“Working by the fire, how romantic,” I sigh.

Max turns and arches a brow. “Romantic?”

I nod as I turn to go back into my room. “The snow, the fire, it all makes me think of a much more romantic time.” I sigh dreamily then clear my throat. “Like a Christmas song or something. If you wanted me to clear out the living room, it would be a perfect setting for a date with June.”

Max clicks his tongue. “It would be if we were still seeing one another.”

I turn around, nearly hitting my elbow against the doorway. “You broke up?”

“To break up would mean we were ever dating. I merely saw June as a friend, she wanted something more, so she called it off.” Max shrugs like it is the most casual thing to happen. “No hurt feelings.”

“I thought things were going well,” I murmur. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. It was an amiable thing. It wasn’t right for either of us.” He turns to go back while I close my door.

The crisp chill in my room and the lingering thoughts on my mind make me hurry to dress. I shove and shove and shove down my feelings which are now a clamoring, excited mess. Stay down, stay away, stay quiet, I would think to myself as a warning to those feelings.

I go into the kitchen to make my green tea, but the kettle is already done, and my cup is prepared on the table. As I pick up my cup, Max walks in, dusting his hands off on his pants. His hair has gotten longer since I arrived, it now goes down past his shoulder. The soft waves and curls seem more defined than usual.