Ginger-Keep Mother Pure
you are hysterical--I love it!
Kris-Glad you enjoyed it! We're not at the lake yet, but lots of M/L interaction today.
Alien614-Thanks so much!
Carolyn-Hee hee! I actually have Diane's tee shirt-bought it at cafepress.com You can search roswell max liz or crashdown cafe.
Alien_Friend-Max and Liz will go through those fears of crossing the line with each other for a little while longer. They have become each other's confidantes but are also trying to supress some of those sexual feelings out of fear of their parents' developing relationship.
Thanks so much for the birthday greetings!
Eve-Yes, Max may get used to the notion of his mother getting on with her life--but he will definitely run into trouble when it starts to impact his relationship with Liz.
Yes, the whole lake discussion did start to take on sensuous implications.
POM-of course the development of these two relationship will surely hit a crossroads on down the line.
behr_able-naughty fun time? Hell yeah!
Jan-Well you can hardly blame them for their *ahem* sorting, now can you?
***
ch 8
Wednesday evening-
“Would you like some more mashed potatoes, Liz, dear?” Diane Evans stirred the buttery contents of the bowl, scooping up a healthy portion in case anyone wanted seconds.
“Oh, no thank you, Mrs. Evans,” Liz smiled politely across the table at Max’s mother, dabbing at the corners of her mouth, indicating she was through.
“Now, remember, it’s ‘Diane,’” Mrs. Evans gently reminded.
“Sorry…Diane,” Liz looked everywhere but at her father and his new girlfriend, sitting opposite her and Max, the chair at the head of the table notably empty.
“Max…more potatoes?” Diane asked hopefully.
“Sure, Mom,” Max acquiesced, knowing that this line of questioning would continue until the contents of the dining table were consumed.
“The meatloaf was great, Diane,—just the right amount of ketchup,” Liz nodded lamely, trying to keep up her end of the conversation.
“In fact, I think I’ll have another piece of meatloaf, myself,” Jeff declared reaching for the serving fork, shooting Max a look of obligatory encouragement as he did so.
“Yeah, Mom, I’ll have some more meatloaf to go with these potatoes…,” Max went along with refilling his plate, even though he was already quite full.
Liz picked at bits of green beans, trying to make her meal last as long as everyone else’s. She was rather relieved when Diane once again broached a new topic of conversation.
“Max, did I see the jeep parked at the elementary yesterday? I meant to ask, but you had to take off so early this morning,” Diane queried.
“Mm,” Max covered his mouth with his fist as he swallowed a bite, “Liz and I are volunteering there during lunch and study hall for our National Honor Society hours.”
“I pack us lunch, Max drives us there,” Liz chimed in.
“We’re volunteering during school, so we won’t have to miss work,” Max explained.
“Good thinking—good thinking,” Jeff gestured with his fork and a hearty nod.
“Well, what do you two do over there?” Diane asked solicitously.
“Um, we’ve made some copies, answered the phones, delivered messages…,” Max listed some of their more mundane duties.
“But yesterday,” Liz added, “one of the teachers got called away on an emergency, so we had to teach P.E.”
“Yeah, we played soccer—Liz coached one team, I coached the other,” Max smiled mischievously, glancing sideways at Liz.
“And my team kicked your team’s
bu-hut…,” Liz crooned softly at Max, breaking out in fits of laughter as he rolled his eyes.
“That’s because you had all those rowdy boys on your team,” Max responded with a raised eyebrow.
“Hey, I let you choose your team captain first, and you picked some giggly little girl,” Liz playfully chastised.
“Misty was the one with her hand up first,” Max defended good-naturedly.
“Yes, and she, of course, was going to pick all her giggly little friends,” Liz wisely explained.
“Well, at least she picked one boy,” Max grudgingly reminded.
“Brandon? Misty picked Brandon because she has a crush on him,” Liz interpreted for the men in the room.
“We’ve been there three days, how could you possibly have figured that out?” Max queried with playful sarcasm.
“A girl knows these things,” Liz laughed at Max’s cluelessness. “And then Brandon wouldn’t play because he was embarrassed that Misty picked him,” Liz noted with haughty teasing and a wicked smile.
“Liz Parker and her insight to the 4th grade psyche, ladies and gentlemen,” Max conceded to Liz’s prowess, nodding his head in defeat as he grinned.
“Well, it sounds like you two are getting along very well,” Diane smiled graciously.
Max and Liz looked at each other nervously, wary at the sudden change in conversation, wondering if there was more to Diane’s question than met the eye.
“Um..,” Max and Liz kept trading glances, each making sure they weren’t over-sharing with their parents. “We’ve known each other for years, Mom,” Max’s face scrunched as he sought to satisfy his mother’s question.
“Yeah, we have all of our classes together… we’re lab partners…,” Liz continued, searching for an adequate explanation to explain their ease with each other.
“We did that experiment with mold and fungus in 5th grade,” Max suddenly recalled, pointing as he made the out-of-the-blue declaration.
“That’s right…we did,” Liz concurred, nodding. “It won second place that year at the science fair.”
“And the only reason we didn’t win first was because one of the judges was allergic and had an asthma attack,” Max sighed, remembering how first place was so cruelly denied them.
Jeff and Diane chuckled at the interchange, having always been impressed with their children’s academic eagerness.
“So you guys are going to go to the lake this weekend?” Jeff questioned, looking at both teenagers.
Max and Liz instantly flushed at the memory of their phone call from several nights ago.
“Yeah, Dad…Sunday,” Liz smiled, reminding Jeff of what she’d already told him.
“You know, I don’t know why they had to go and call it Bottomless Lake—it just sounds so suggestive,” Diane complained.
Max groaned inwardly at his mother’s comment, trying to hide his mortification behind the hand he slid to his forehead, “It’s a reference to how deep the lake is, Mom, not—what you’re thinking,” he grimaced.
“Still--,” Diane waved away her son’s explanation and chose not to press the issue any further, instead bringing up the subject of dessert, “Jeff and Liz brought this lovely coconut cream pie,” redirecting the conversation, Diane got up to fetch the dessert plates and the boxed pie. “And by the way, I made some chamomile tea to have with our dessert—everyone should sleep well tonight…,” she called from the kitchen.
Liz shot Max a questioning raised eyebrow. Max shook his head subtly and mouthed a small ‘no,’ indicating that he had not betrayed Liz’s confidence to his mother. Liz took a deep resigned breath and looked toward the living room, instead of her father who had obviously told his girlfriend of Liz’s troubled nights. Liz bristled a little at the thought of Diane, her new co-worker, Max’s mother and Jeff’s new love interest rolled into one, trying to cure Liz’s very private difficulties with tea.
Liz’s glance traveled across the living room, looking over the furnishings and curios it contained, but something odd about the arrangement caught her attention—on the shelves and mantelpiece, there were some family photos and such, but as far as the figurines, clocks and crystal were concerned, the items seemed…spread too thin, or an inexpensive bauble lay in place of something finer. Diane obviously had sold some of her collectables to help make ends meet, and Liz sympathized with her difficulties. Even though the financial losses due to her mother’s illness and death were great ,at least Liz’s dad owned the restaurant, so she couldn’t fault Diane for trying to keep her family’s head above water, even if it did mean working with her at the Crashdown.
Liz’s musings were cut short as Diane delivered the pie and tea, Liz grinning as Diane placed delicate teacups in front of Max and her father.
Checking his watch, Jeff noted, “We’ll have to finish up quickly, Diane, our meeting starts in twenty minutes,” he dug in quickly to his pie and followed that with a swig of the pale yellow tea contained in a dainty cup.
“Oh, that’s right,” Diane cut a bite with purposeful grace. “Max can you take Liz home later? I don’t know exactly when we’ll be finished.”
“Sure, Mom—no problem,” Max obligingly sipped his mother’s tea, a little disconcerted by the flowery flavor.
“And, Liz, would you help with the dishes since Diane and I have to leave right away?” Jeff asked his daughter as he tried to finish his dessert quickly.
Liz opened her mouth to speak but Diane jumped in, “Now, Jeff, that’s really not necessary, you and Liz are our guests,” she insisted.
“Really, it’s no problem,” Liz assured, not minding to clear the table and fill the dishwasher.
“Mom, don’t worry…we can clean this up in no time. Liz and I have a bit of school work, and then I’ll take her home,” Max dutifully recited, a little relieved at being able to do his part. With Jeff taking Diane out-of-town, buying the cappuccino machine, and making a job for his mother, Max felt his own watchful attentions to the lawn and kitchen plumbing a little overshadowed.
Noticing that Diane had finished her pie and tea, Jeff asked, “Are you ready?”
“Mm,” Diane replied, her napkins touching up her lips before being discarded on her plate, “Just let me get my purse.”
Jeff rose to help Diane from her seat, then she quickly slipped back to her bedroom to retrieve her bag. Placing his hand at the small of Diane’s back to escort her out the door, Jeff turned back to the kids who had risen from the table, reminding them, “Don’t stay up too late you two—remember-- it’s a school night.”
Max and Liz watched through the slight opening in the living room sheers, seeing Jeff hold Diane’s hand as they walked to the curb where his truck was parked. Jeff opened the door for Diane and helped her into the cab before walking around to the driver’s side. The two teens inside seemed to hold their breath until their parents pulled away, heading off to their grief support meeting where they had met several weeks ago.
Watching the headlights fade from view, Max and Liz’s shoulders dropped in relief as they sighed in unison, finally released from their respective duties as proper host and guest, knowing that nosy questions from parents were finished for another night.
“Dishes?” Liz inquired cheerfully as she turned toward Max.
“Yeah, let’s finish the kitchen, then we can relax for a minute,” Max replied, both of them heading back to the table to start to clear, making fast work of the chore as Liz was well-versed at such a task and Max knew where everything was supposed to go. After loading most of the items into the dishwasher, the two set about to wash the serving platters in the sink.
“Max, where does this plate go?” Liz inquired, staring up into the cabinet, trying to figure out where the large piece was usually kept.
Drying his hands on a kitchen towel, Max went to Liz’s side.
“Third shelf, behind the plates,” he responded. He watched for a moment as Liz stood on her tip-toes, straining to return the platter to its normal spot.
Max stifled a chuckle, covering it with a smile when he said, “Here, let me,” moving in behind Liz, his left hand grazing her side as his right extended to meet hers which still held the heavy plate. Liz had to catch her breath in the moment when Max’s strong body sidled in behind hers to take the patter from her hand and slide it in behind the plates. Max’s eyes inadvertently closed as he came back down, the sweetness of Liz’s hair filling his senses. He held her there just for a moment before they noticed their close proximity and broke away with nervous smiles.
Having put away the last of the hand-washed items and starting the dishwasher which had begun its noisy churning, Max suggested, “I’ve got those notes I borrowed in my room if you want to get them.”
“Oh sure,” Liz responded brightly, their ease with each other returning as they turned to the topic of school work.
Max led Liz back to his bedroom, turning on the overhead light as they entered.
“I think they’re on my desk,” Max pointed as he bent to move his backpack and stray clothes out of the way.
“Jeez, Max, what is with the marker smell?” Liz laughed, noticing the black pens on the desk and the oppressive odor in the air. Liz picked up the notes, finding an open photo album underneath, noting that there were large black blotches covering someone in the photos.
“Oh, sorry, just doing a little photo editing, I guess. Let me open the window,” Max slid the glass pane to the side, the sheers covering the screen waving gently in the breeze. Max sat back down against his headboard to stow away any bedside items that might prove embarrassing.
Picking up the heavy album, Liz studied the photos, trying to discern the identity of the person blotted out. Straining, she moved around to the far side of the bed, plopping down next to Max to inquire further about the vandalism to the family photos, when she noticed a stray blonde curl that had been missed by the marker.
“Oh that’s--,” Liz started.
“Ah, ah, ah--,” Max interrupted, “Don’t say her name—you can refer to her as ‘the gerbil’ or ‘the bitch from hell,’ but you can’t actually say her name for fear that she might show up at the door,” Max replied in all seriousness.
Liz couldn’t help but chuckle at the jinx, flipping back through the few previous pages to see them all similarly marked.
“Ok, explain please,” Liz settled back against the pillow as she perused the pictures.
Max heaved a sigh and began his explanation, “Alright, now, granted, we were kind of young, but…you know, the gerbil and I started ‘going together’ in middle school…,” Max grimaced.
“Mm-hmm, I remember—go on,” Liz encouraged with an amused smile.
“And anytime I would tell her that I couldn’t go skating or to the movies or something because my family was going somewhere—she would show up at the door to go with us.”
“You’re kidding,” Liz chuckled.
“No-not at all,” Max laughed, “I would tell her we were going camping—she would show up with her sleeping bag and flashlight—five minutes tops,” Max declared with a shake of his head. “I’d tell her we were going to the lake—there she was, bathing suit and sunscreen in hand.”
“What did your parents say?” Liz asked, incredulous at Tess’s forwardness.
“Oh, you know my mom—she felt sorry for her because Tess was raised by her dad, and Mom couldn’t turn her away. But, Isabel hated her—right from the start. Of course, if we were going camping or had to stay in a motel room overnight—Isabel had to share a bed with her,” Max’s expression conveyed Izzy’s intense dislike of the younger girl. “Yeah, I still don’t think Isabel’s forgiven me for that one.”
“So what happened?” Liz prodded, a baffled look on her face.
“Well, you know, my father died right before I got my driver’s license…”
“Yeah,” Liz replied softly.
“I guess when we started dating, she assumed I would be getting the big, new, shiny car—but, of course, I got the jeep instead. She thought we’d be going to Chez Pierre or at least Senor Chow’s and the movies, but instead, it was dinner at home with mom and a DVD,” Max related grimly.
“Ah…,” Liz understood.
“Then Kyle buys the fancy red Mustang…he’s the star athlete, whereas I had to quit sports, so I could get a job…so—bye bye gerbil,” Max finished sardonically.
“So did you ever…” Liz raised her eyebrows suggestively, causing Max to blush and scratch the back of his neck.
“No...,” Max confessed, “We came close a couple of times…but I kept remembering what my sister told me….”
“What was that?” Liz asked with a chuckle.
“Now, you’ve got to understand, Isabel rarely swears—she thinks it’s tacky—but she told me one time, ‘Never fuck that crazy bitch.’”
Liz was laughing hysterically, visualizing the very proper Isabel Evans saying such a thing. “Oh my God, are you serious?” Liz asked between bouts of laughter.
“I swear—so of course, whenever the opportunity came up,” Max cleared his throat embarrassedly, “All I could hear was Izzy’s voice in the back of my head,” Max laughed along with Liz at the value of his sister’s advice.
Liz flipped the album to the front, keeping her finger on the place where Max had left it open. Liz looked at the early photos of the family, first Isabel and then later Max, scanning over Christmases , birthdays and other milestones.
“Oh, look, you had a cute tushie even then,” Liz teased, noting a baby photo of a bare-bottomed Max laying on his tummy.
“Even then, huh?” Max teased in return, gently elbowing her in the side when he caught Liz’s slip of the tongue.
“Shut up…,” Liz laughed and playfully rolled her eyes, continuing through the book till she arrived back at the pages where Max had concealed the intruding Tess.
“You know, you could probably get Alex to Photoshop these for you—replace the gerbil with a tree or bush or something...he really is quite the artist,” Liz suggested.
“There are a lot of photos, Liz; it would take him hours,” Max reasoned.
“Well, you could take it out in trade or something—like for every photo he fixes, you could tell him some little secret about Isabel—her favorite food, her favorite color, what she loves to do in her free time….”
“Um…she likes long walks on the beach, men who aren’t afraid to cry and puppies?” Max laughed, goofing on the centerfold sentiment.
“Something like that…,” Liz chuckled. Through all their laughter, Max and Liz failed to noticed how they had slouched down together against his pillows, their bodies again at ease with each other.
“Ok…so what about you—I’ve told you my little tale of angst and pathos, now what about you?” Max turned the tables on Liz, his upper body turning to face her. “Whatever happened to old ‘Dog Shallow?’” Max teased.
“Oh him,” Liz’s voice squeaked as she continued to laugh. “Doug is far, far away,” Liz replied with a definitive smile and single nod of her head.
“Details,” Max waved his fingers toward his palm, “Come on, I told you mine—you tell me yours,” he smiled.
“Ok,” Liz smiled wryly as she sighed, “So anyway, you know, I dated Doug when I was a sophomore, and he was a senior….”
“I remember,” Max nodded. “Go on….”
“Of course, Dad was pretty nervous with me dating a senior at that age, so he didn’t let me out of his sight too often. But, when Doug went off to college, we were still dating. You know, we’d call, email, text—that kind of thing. We had fooled around a little before he left, but nothing major, you know--,” Liz continued as Max nodded. “So he was supposed to come home for fall break, and I decide that it was time—I should go ahead and sleep with him--,” Liz continued.
“Oh my God, not with Dog,” Max groaned as he chuckled.
“Hang on, hang on—story’s not over with yet,” Liz placed her palm toward Max and grinned. “So anyway, a couple of months before the break, I make up some excuse and go to the gynecologist to get on the Pill; I bought this lacy little outfit—hell, I even got a bikini wax!” Liz recounted through her laughter.
“Seriously?” Max exclaimed, wide-eyed, unable to resist a glance down at Liz’s lap.
“Seriously,” Liz chuckled, “So, fall break rolls around, and Doug calls to tell me he can’t make it—that he’ll come home the next week, then the next week, so on and so forth,” Liz indicated with a knowing nod and roll of her eyes.
“I see,” Max nods in response as he listened intently.
“So, I start to get a little suspicious, you know ‘Why isn’t he coming home? Doesn’t he want to see me?’ and all that. At Alex’s suggestion, I decide to do a little checking. Poor, dumb Doug has forgotten that he asked me to send in a bunch of his scholarship applications, giving me the excuse that he just didn’t have the time to deal with all of them. So, like an idiot, I had emailed all these applications for him during his senior year.”
“Right…,” Max encouraged.
“Well, I had saved all the correspondence in a file on my hard drive just in case he ever needed it again, trying to be the dutiful girlfriend, of course. So, I went to the UNM site and put in his student number and pulled up his account—not really sure what good that would do me, but it was a place to start. Anyway, I go into his health center history and discover that in October he had seen their urologist and received a prescription for an antibiotic and some
ointment,” Liz stressed with meaning.
“Oh my God,” Max’s jaw dropped, then asked.
“But you
never…,” Max hedged.
“Oh
hell no,” Liz insisted. I went on my Facebook page, told everyone what I had uncovered and that Doug was a lying, cheating scumbag, and he never showed his face at the Crashdown again,” Liz said succinctly, smiling as she capped off her story. “So, no, I wasn’t really ready to trust anyone right away after the whole Doug debacle.”
“I never liked that pompous ass anyway,” Max responded. “I’m sorry, but he always had that attitude that smacked of ‘I’m smarter than everybody in this room,’ and I just couldn’t take it,” Max confessed.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Liz playfully swatted Max’s thigh in retaliation.
“What am I going to say—‘Liz I think your boyfriend is a total dick?’ You would’ve hated me….”
“No, I wouldn’t…,” Liz playfully shoved her shoulder into Max’s. “And just for the record, I never understood what you saw in the gerbil,” Liz shook her head in commiseration, “Well…apart from the obvious,” Liz indicated with a laugh, cupping her hands out in front of her.
“Oh God,” Max groaned and winced, “It wasn’t like that,” he stressed in obvious mortification.
“
Really?” Liz scoffed with a smile.
“No…,” Max sighed, “I don’t care about that…I kind of think everything should sort of…be in proportion. Those big boobs on a little, tiny body sort of seemed…out of place,” Max tried to explain.
Liz considered the analysis, “I guess that’s true,” she pondered, “like with Isabel—the big boobs don’t seem so out of place since she’s tall.”
“Can we
not talk about my sister’s boobs, please?” Max entreated with a pained expression on his face.
“Oh, but your ears turn all red when you get embarrassed,” Liz tormented playfully, running her thumb and forefinger at the shell of Max’s flushed ear, throwing her head back in laughter as he squirmed.
“Oh crap,” Liz grabbed the back of her neck, the sudden movement having reminded her of the crick in her neck she woke up to that morning.
“Serves you right,” Max nudged playfully, Liz flashing a humorously wounded expression in return. “What did you do to yourself, anyway?”
“I fell asleep reading
Pride and Prejudice last night—stupid Jane Austen,” Liz grumbled. “I thought if I read long enough it would put me to sleep, and it did,” but I was propped up on all my pillows and woke up with a sore neck,” Liz rolled her neck around in her hand.
“I thought you like Jane Austen,” Max asserted, having heard Liz’s responses to the book in class.
“I’ve been reading it, of course, and I pretend to like it for Mrs. Wynn’s sake, but I really can’t stand all the adherence to social custom…some rich aunt telling you who you can marry…waiting to receive an invitation to a party…having relatives you can’t stand come and stay for months at a time…. Give me the Brontes any day—at least then you’ve got ghosts on the moors, crazy wives locked in the attic—I mean—it’s depressing, sure—but at least something is happening,” Liz insisted.
“So did you finish the reading after all this torture?” Max asked with a grin.
“No, I fell asleep too soon—had to fake my way through discussion this morning,” Liz confessed as she continued to rub her neck.
“Well, I checked out the movie from the library, so we could watch it,” Max suggested.
“The Kiera Knightley version?” Liz perked up.
“No,” sighed Max, “they didn’t have that one. They had some old BBC production, but it should run pretty close to the book.”
“I guess we should watch it then,” Liz conceded.
“After—I get rid of this crick in your neck,” Max smiled. “I owe you a rub down anyway.”
“Yes, you do,” Liz agreed with a smile, shrugging off her cropped cardigan to reveal a spaghetti-strap tank underneath. Scooting down and rolling over on Max’s bed, Liz closed her eyes and lay her head to the side.
Stealthily, Max reached down, just below his bed to retrieve a bottle of baby oil, pouring some out onto his hand. Liz had to restrain a chuckle when she heard the cap snap closed.
With one hand pooled with the powdery-smelling oil and one hand still free, Max looked down at Liz nervously.
“Well I guess I’d better…,” delicately, Max pulled the thin straps down to rest on Liz’s arms to avoid them getting stained from the oil. When she didn’t seem to mind the contact, he proceeded, sitting at Liz’s side while he spread the oil along her tanned shoulders. Max began to rub the sore muscles, though his awkward angle made it difficult to massage the muscles evenly. He tried shifting around to find a better position, but nothing he did seemed to feel quite right.
Liz turned her head toward Max, her voice a little muffled against his sheets.
“Sit where you need to Max—you’re not going to hurt me, I swear,” Liz assured, noting his nervous expression as he looked to her lower back. “It’s ok—I don’t mind.”
After another moment of indecision, Max scooted his left knee against Liz’s hip and swung the right over her body to straddle hers, Liz chuckling to herself when Max’s weight on her bottom caused her to pelvis to grind toward his mattress.
As soon as Max’s weight shifted forward and his hands returned to her stiff shoulders, Liz let out a deep groan that frightened him.
“Did I hurt you?” Max rose up in concern over his weight bearing down on her tiny frame.
“God, no—it felt good…keep going,” Liz insisted, her mouth against his sheets.
Spurred on by the encouragement, Max kneaded the sore muscles in Liz’s neck and shoulders, producing moans, groans and sighs from Liz as his hands worked away the knots. With all of Liz’s verbal encouragement and the sounds that could be mistaken for something other than an innocent backrub, Max’s jeans started to get a little snug, something that Liz didn’t fail to notice as his body pressed against hers, though she kept that knowledge to herself as not to embarrass him.
After a thorough working over of her neck and shoulders, Liz turned her head to face Max.
“Do you mind going a little lower?” she asked, her back muscles also having suffered from the same awkward sleeping position.
“Lower?...sure….,” Max agreed nervously. His fingertips grazed against the edge of her camisole, just barely scooting under the bottom hem.
“Is this ok?” he questioned, not wanting to be too forward in his ministrations.
“It’s ok,” Liz smiled before turning her head back to its original position and closing her eyes once more.
Max’s strong fingers traveled underneath the camisole which also apparently served as a bra, since he didn’t encounter another strap to avoid.
His fingers and palms rubbed soothing strokes against her back, his weight rhythmically pushing against her body with each pass of his hands. Max groaned a little himself as his hands splayed out against her sides, inadvertently touching more rounded flesh as he did so. Swallowing hard at the discomfort in his jeans, Max scooted down a bit to rub Liz’s lower back, now exposed as her top had ridden up. Max tried to concentrate on his task, made more difficult, as now, Liz’s jeans -clad bottom came into full view. He proceed with the massage, even though
his tension was multiplied by his efforts, his hands stroking along the graceful curve of her lower back, his fingers exploring the sexy dip that sank just above her waistband.
Coping with the raging erection that he couldn’t help but stroke along Liz’s ass, Max tried to finish the massage as he prayed not to lose control and embarrass himself in front of his friend. When his thumbs dipped inside the waist of Liz’s jeans and her hips rose to meet his touch, a low moan issued from Liz’s throat. Max’s breath became raspy at her sound and response, the fantasy of what he would really like to be doing to his friend (and Jeff Parker’s daughter, for that matter) ratcheted up a notch. Knowing he was at his breaking point, Max slid off the end of the bed, pulling Liz’s camisole back into place gently.
“How was that?” Max questioned nervously.
“Oh God, I am a puddle of goo,” Liz groaned and chuckled simultaneously, still remaining face-down on Max’s bed, “That was freaking fantastic,” she declared finally rolling over. “You have the best hands in the world,” Liz confessed enthusiastically, Max grinning with a shy pride at the complement.
“Um, I’m just gonna’ find the DVD,” Max pointed to the old TV and basic DVD player at the foot of his bed.
“Take your time,” Liz responded lightly, still giddy from the massage.
Max pretended to search for the box, in reality, giving and his body time to relax and a chance for his raging hard-on to subside.
“Here we are,” he finally announced, popping the DVD in the player and turning on the tv. “I’ll just get the light so there won’t be a glare on the screen,” Max explained, the room now dark, save the glow from the television.
“Jane Austen—here we come,” Max settled in against Liz resuming the positions they had as they looked at his photo album earlier in the evening.
The colored but grainy image appeared on the screen, the distant world of Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy slipping slowly into oblivion…
Two and a half hours later the blue light of the DVD player was broken by the flash of headlights playing against the curtains in the bedroom. The sound of closing truck doors helped further bring Max and Liz back to wakefulness.
“Max?” Liz muttered, her eyes still closed as she nestled her sleeping head further into Max’s soft tee and his hard chest.
“Liz?” Max’s arms tightened around her small frame that lay cuddled against him, his hand caressing the bare, warm skin of her back where his fingers had unconsciously traveled once again under the hem of her camisole.
Startled at the voices that now came from the living room, Max and Liz were suddenly awake, flushing against the dark when they saw the positions they had been laying in.
“Max!”
“Liz!” they both whispered again, this time with the distress of having fallen asleep together during the movie.
“What time is it?” Liz whispered.
“Almost midnight,” Max responded in a panic. “What are we going to do? I was supposed to have you home a long time ago!” he spoke in strained but hushed tones.
“Well, we could just tell them the truth—tell them we fell asleep during a movie we were watching for class,” Liz rationalized.
“On my bed, in the dark, at nearly twelve,” Max responded incredulously.
“Ok, well, it sounded a lot better in my head,” Liz reconsidered.
“Listen, we’ll crawl out the window, I’ll drive you home, and hopefully I’ll be back before your dad leaves. If not I’ll tell them, I wanted a midnight snack, forgot to get gas—I’ll make something up,” Max searched frantically for his keys and slipped on his shoes as Liz gathered her sweater from Max’s bedroom floor and slipped on her shoes as well.
“Here, let me help you,” Max whispered as Liz went through the window, landing with reasonable grace on the other side. Max followed moments after.
Liz looked back as Max regained his footing, holding out her hand to him as they made their stealthy escape.
“I’ll roll back down the driveway and put it in neutral that way we can be outta’ sight before I start the engine,” Max explained, making his way to Liz and grasping her hand.
“Sounds like a plan,” Liz spoke, turning back once more to reply, but as she did so, something else caught her eye. “Max,
look,” Liz said shakily, pointing weakly with her free hand back toward the house. Though the curtains in the Evans household were closed, the kitchen light still shone softly from behind, revealing the silhouettes of Jeff Parker and Diane Evans moving together in a kiss.
)
.
. But anyway, we saw Roswell (sadly no alien-themed diner except for the spaceship-shaped McDonalds), Ruidoso, White Sands & Alamagordo, Cloudcroft and Carlsbad Caverns--whew! I spent my 40th b-day Friday trekking around Carlsbad--very cool way to spend a birthday 
