Page 18 of Without Me (Men of Inked 5)
I stopped and faced her, naked and vulnerable. “What if I want more? Maybe this isn’t good enough for me.” I had pushed the envelope; I knew it when I spoke.
Max had said that there were limits to our relationship, but I’d assumed the more time she spent with me, the more her feelings would change. Once again, I had it all wrong.
I threw up my arms and put them behind my head, giving her a full view of everything I had to offer. If I was only a fuck buddy, that’s what she’d want to see.
“I won’t accept it, Max. I know you want more. I can see it in your eyes when I’m inside you. You can pretend that you don’t feel what we have, but I can see it.” I pulled my hands forward, letting them slide through my hair before resting my palms on top of my head.
“There’s nothing you see, Anthony. You don’t know how I feel. I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
Wait a goddamn minute. It was like déjà vu. I was about to be tossed to the curb again like yesterday’s trash.
“That’s it? You’re ending us?” My anger rose, causing my heart to beat out of rhythm. “What the fuck, Max?”
“It’s best for both of us. You’re getting too attached to me. I like fucking you, but I don’t want to be with you. I’m not your girlfriend, never will be, and can’t give you anything more than this.” She waved her arms, motioning across the bed. “If you can’t accept just fucking me, then it’s best if we end it here.”
“You’ll change your mind,” I said as I grabbed my pants off the floor.
“I won’t.”
“I don’t know who fucked your head up so bad, Max. You really should talk to someone about your issues. We have a good thing going here. No matter what your family thinks of me, we’re meant to be together.”
I closed my eyes as I spoke the words. In all my life, I’d never thought I’d mutter those words, let alone say them with such conviction. The funny thing was, I’d meant it. Fuck her and her bullshit. I dressed without looking at her and headed home.
Max and I were over, and nothing in the world would make me change my mind.
I thought it was hard to say goodbye to him the first time I kicked him out, but that was a cakewalk. I said I’d give us a chance and go on a date with him, but when we did I immediately knew the error of my ways.
The attraction we felt for each other was too great. Not only was the sex amazing, but he was easy to be with. I liked talking with him, surprisingly enough. Telling him about my father had been easy, and he seemed genuinely interested and felt sorry for me. He wasn’t the asshole I’d pegged him to be that night at the Ritz. I’m not saying he’s a saint, because Lord knows he isn’t. He had the perfect mix of cockiness and kindness, which he seemed to hide well.
I had to be brutal with him. When he started talking about meeting his family and possible future plans, I had to put an end to it all. I couldn’t let myself fall deeper for the man. I’d never believed in love at first sight. Never did I think you could know someone was right for you after only a few dates.
Anthony said it himself: we were made to be together. The problem with his statement was me. I couldn’t change my life and there wasn’t a place for him. No matter how badly I wanted to run away with him and forget about everything but us, it wasn’t a luxury I could afford.
Not because I couldn’t get lost in us. No. I didn’t want him to get lost in me.
Saying goodbye to him for a third time was like having my heart ripped out of my chest and watching it beat before my eyes. The sorrow and agony I felt in that moment didn’t compare to anything other than losing my father. Having love in front of me then pushing it away was something I didn’t want to do again.
Sometimes we can’t have what we want. Life has a way of selecting its own course, and there’s nothing we can do to hop off the trail.
No matter how badly I wanted to change my future, I couldn’t.
My heart would heal and so would his. He’d find his happily ever after while I, on the other hand, would surround myself with friends and family and forsake myself of my one true love.
It was more for his sake than mine.
At least, that was the lie I told myself as I cried myself to sleep.
9
Love is a Wicked Game
I lied.
Often, what I said I’d do and what really happened would change along the way without my control. If I were smart, I wouldn’t have gone back to her. But since I was a man and often controlled by my dick, I gave in.
Days later, Max shot me a text asking if I’d give her another shot. She missed me, missed my cock, and wanted to see me again. Like an idiot and a man with a cock, I took her back.
It wasn’t that we didn’t have issues. If we avoided talk of anything that resembled a relationship, everything was smooth sailing. I dropped any thought of taking her to Sunday dinner. We decided that it would be best to keep our visits short, with no wining and dining beforehand. I knew she didn’t want to take a chance of someone seeing us.
I knew what it looked like to an outsider. Anthony was pussy-whipped, just like every other Gallo man. There was a bit of truth to the statement, but I would argue my side until the bitter end. I couldn’t allow myself to be seen as weak.
I liked to think of myself like a caveman. Max was my prey and I was just waiting to pounce. Eventually, she’d give in. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, I knew she liked me. I’d bet my fortune that her feelings were closer to love than just mere lust.
I’d wait. Be the patient man I’d never been before and wait for Max to admit what she felt for me. The biggest hurdle would be to overcome the fact that her family didn’t approve of me. I was sure that, if they got to know me, no matter what color I am, they’d fall in love. If I could just get the chance to show her that we could work and I could get her family’s blessing…
But it wouldn’t happen overnight. I’d play the part, be her fuck buddy. Be anything she wanted to be until she felt comfortable enough to utter the words I’d always thought I’d be too big of a pussy to say.
Not too long ago, I’d thought relationships were for the weak. Slowly, I evolved. It’d only taken thirty-something years for it to happen. My luck would be that the one woman I finally wanted to chance something more with shut me out. I’d hang on, take what she had to give, and always leave her wanting more.
But eventually, we each have a breaking point.
We usually met up at night when we could find the time in our busy schedules, and I remained in the shadows. It was the lot I’d resigned myself to when I’d begged her to give me a chance that night in her shop, to give us a shot at happiness.
I thought I could handle it, but over time, I wanted to stake my claim and let the world know she was mine. It didn’t take me long to fall in love with Max. The only thing that rivaled her beauty was her attitude. I saw myself when I looked at her. Her cockiness and ability to take shit as it was thrown at her and fling it back in the face of adversity were astonishing. She didn’t let anything or anybody get in her way.
Except her family. They were in the way of our happiness, her happiness, and a possible happily-ever-after. It had been months since she’d caved in and agreed to see me as we tried to figure out what fate had in store for us.
Not only was our lovemaking epic, our fights could only be classified as nuclear. More times than I’d like to admit, she’d kick me out and put an end to our faux-relationship. She’d cave in, saying that she missed me and had fucked up. Like a dumbass, I’d forgive her and take her back.
I had become the weak one. Roles had reversed, and I’d landed in a position I’d never thought I’d be in. Love can make a person do crazy things. I’d said that I never wanted anything to change me, but without stopping it, I had become someone I barely recognized anymore.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered on my lips as she crawled in my lap.
It was about the fifth time she’d called it off and then begged my forgiveness over
the last two months. I had come to her house with a plan. I’d fuck her like she’d never been fucked and leave.
Being led by the balls and strung along had been exhausting. It had taken a toll on my music, my work, and my sleep. I was done with feeling like shit. Her moods were too much for me to handle. I wouldn’t be a pawn in her life anymore. I was more than a cock and a secret.
“I can’t do this anymore, Max.” I slumped in the chair and held her hips. “I can’t keep taking you back. I won’t do it again.” I shook my head, unable to comprehend how she had changed me.
“I promise it’ll be different. You just don’t understand what I’m going through, Anthony.” She gripped my shirt, rubbing the material between her thumb and index fingers. “It’s so hard having so much love for you and not knowing how to handle it.”
“What’s to handle? Just feel it and let it happen. Stop running away like a scared child. It’s time to grow the fuck up.” I played with the loop on her jeans, focusing my attention away from the squeezing pain in my chest.
She had ruined me. Totally destroyed the man I had been not that long ago at the Ritz. I had been a cocky motherfucker who had life by the balls. Now a woman was holding mine in a vise. I’d never understood what my brothers had gone through when they had met “the one.” I had ridiculed them and thought they were pussies, but now, I knew. Love wasn’t something you could turn off or deny. It became part of you, an ache so deep and full that it had to be filled to feel alive.
I needed to go to an addiction meeting. I needed to admit to someone outside of my family that I was Anthony Gallo and I had lost my way and needed salvation. I needed redemption from a path so cruel that I was a shell of my former self. I hated Max and myself. Her even more for the hell she’d put me through the last couple of months.
Everything in my life was as fake as Kim Kardashian’s ass on the cover of Paper magazine. I pretended not to have a girlfriend, she hid me from everyone but Malia and Nita, and we ignored the future. Actually, we swept it under the rug, pretending it wasn’t something we’d have to face soon.
