Read A Bleu Streak Summer (The Bleu Series Book 3) for Free Online Page A

His hand began easing over the long expanse of seat between them.
    “And you look like you just rolled out of bed.” Her words were delivered with no bite, just stating the obvious, but they successfully halted the progression of his hand.
    Max moved back to his side, knowing it’s what he deserved.
    Scrubbing his hands over the stubble shadowing his jaw, he admitted, “I didn’t feel like buttoning up in pretenses tonight.”
    “How ironic?” She huffed out a forced laugh.
    “I know. Stupid choice of words.” He grunted in discomfort. “I am who I am.” He wasn’t referring to his lackluster wardrobe for the evening. His composure began to slip and that starving kid screamed and begged for help. The haunted man knew if the layers of his defense were peeled back, it would reveal him bleeding profusely with regret so debilitating he felt his demise would surely follow.
    “You are who you are,” Mona echoed, eyes focused on her hands grasping a gold clutch in her lap as if it were a lifeline.
    Max felt things slipping, so he demanded the shadows to retreat as he carefully resurrected his goofball façade, the lopsided grin guiding him into character. He knew he had no right to pull Mona down any farther than he already did.
    “I’ll have you know, sweetness, I did wash and put on deodorant.” Max lifted his collar and sniffed dramatically. “And I’m pretty sure this is clean.” The white V-neck tee was in stark contrast to his tanned arms and the black music notes of his only visible tattoo. The sheet music swirled up his right arm and disappeared underneath the short sleeve, but peeked slightly out at the base of his neck. He flexed his lean bicep when noticing Mona’s focus was there. He ran his hand over his short hair, mussing it to stick every which-a-way. “Brushed my hair, too.”
    He received his desired effect, pulling a faint laugh from her coral glossed lips. Being able to offer her even the frivolous laugh empowered him to push a little more.
    Leaning into her personal space, so close her stuttered breath touched his lips, Max whispered, “Glad I wore my boots, ’cause you looking so killer leaves no doubt I’m gonna have to kick the men away from you tonight.” He licked his lips and winked. When her bronzed cheeks warmed with even more color, he couldn’t help but reach over and brush his fingertips there to capture some of her warmth.
    “Max…” Mona released his name on a lingering sigh.
    The estranged couple overlooked the angst of their reality for a moment, both heartbeats fluttering under the other’s touch and scrutiny. The tension pulled in another, more appealing, direction. Max cupped his hands gently under Mona’s chin as his gaze drifted along her feminine features—high cheekbones, thick eyelashes, heart-shaped lips…
    Something shifted between them, maybe a reality check out of the flirty delusional spell he tried weaving around them, as the lusty haze cleared from her eyes and left a watery sheen in its departure.
    “Mona—”
    “Please don’t do this… I’m here because you asked. I’ve agreed to whatever you’ve asked… I just… I can’t keep this up anymore. It’s confusing… It hurts…” Her voice broke on a tremble, instantly cooling the heat between them.
    The anger he had deliberately provoked in Mona months ago had evidently receded in his absence, leaving something in its wake that Max despised—pity. He saw it in her light-aqua eyes in that moment, knowing he deserved her wrath more so. She said it hurt, but the reflection only held pity…
    He moved back over and said through gritted teeth, “I know. I’m a selfish bas—”
    “Max!” Her eyes now held shock over his unusual outburst.
    “I’m just stating the truth. A fatherless, self-centered punk is all I am. You deserve better.” He kept his glare aimed at the guitar case across from him, knowing she wouldn’t deny his claim of her deserving better. She did in the beginning, but