To Die For - Davidson King Page 0,31

door. “She’s a mom; it’s sort of a requirement. Come on, she has cake.”

I just hoped my sisters weren’t home, so maybe we’d get out of this alive.

Chapter Eighteen

Lane

When Max and I walked inside the house, the warmth and love that grew there was like a life force. My teeth were chattering, but it was as if my skin tingled…Maybe that was hypothermia, though.

“Oh, my word, you’re both soaked. Max. Take your friend upstairs to change, and then come down. You’ll both catch pneumonia if you stay in those clothes. Go on.” She shooed us away, and Max rolled his eyes.

“Come on and follow me. I have something you can change into. It won’t be high-fashion, but it will at least get you to stop chattering.”

As we climbed the steps, I couldn’t stop myself from looking at all the pictures hung on the wall. There was a huge one at the top of the stairs. Max was the only boy, and he had three sisters. His mother, and who I assumed was his father, smiled brightly. Judging by Max’s age, I guessed this was taken when he was around ten or so.

“I’m on the third floor, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, the movement is keeping the blood flowing.”

When we made it to the top floor, Max opened the door and we went inside. Whatever I thought I’d see when I entered his room, this wasn’t it. It was very clean, bed made, and he had actual art on the walls, not naked men or anything. There was a couch that looked like it was a good fifteen years old. There was a half-full glass of water next to his bed and a book. While Max went through his drawers, I moved closer to the bed to see what he was reading.

“Okay, these sweats actually shrunk in the wash, so they may work for you, and I have a T-shirt and sweat shirt. You gotta be cold.” He handed them to me.

“Thanks. You’re reading Lord of the Flies?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I like the classics.” He shrugged and moved back to the dresser. “I have socks too, here.” When I took everything, he gestured to another door. “Bathroom’s there, take your time.”

“Thanks.”

In the bathroom, everything was in order. Tub, toilet, and sink all sparkled. I wondered if Max was the neat freak or if it was his mother. I took my soaked clothes off and hung them on the bar in the shower. I dried up and got the clothes on quickly. I had no underwear, but mine hadn’t gotten wet, so I was glad I wouldn’t be free-ballin’ it in Max’s sweat pants. As soon as the sweat shirt went on, I felt a million times better.

I opened the door to step into the bedroom and stopped cold. Max was just pulling his own sweats up, and the sight of his ass was in perfect view. Damn, that was an ass someone could write a poem about.

“Everything okay?” he asked, and my eyes lifted to meet his. He wore a smirk, so I knew I was busted.

“Oh, um, yes. I put my wet clothes on the bar in the shower. If you have a bag, I can throw them in there to take home with me.”

“Nah, I can wash them and hold them behind the bar for you to get if you want.”

Did he just offer to wash my clothes? “That’s not neces—”

“Come on, Sparkles, Ma made cake.” He ran out of the room, and I wasn’t sure if it was true excitement for the cake or if he didn’t want to talk about my clothes and him washing them. I let it go and followed him down the stairs and into the dining room, where Max’s mother was just bringing out a pot of coffee.

“You boys look much warmer. Have a seat. I made cannoli cake.” Max’s mom smiled, and I could see the resemblance between them.

“I’ve never had cannoli cake before, so I can’t wait,” I said as she cut a piece and handed it to me. I waited for everyone to have a piece and once we were seated, I didn’t hold back any longer. I scooped a piece in my mouth. “Oh, my heavens! Sweet mother mercy. This is delicious.”

Max chuckled around his coffee mug.

“I love baking. I do it a lot, and every Sunday I take a few pies and such to the shelter on Hallow Street.”

“That’s incredible.” And it was. When I was trying to get by