Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 135831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“You’ll have to talk to the press,” I say, reminding him.
Max nods in acceptance. “I’m ready.”
What universe am I living in where Max is being agreeable? I don’t even know.
As the meal nears its end, I push back and excuse myself for the ladies’ room. After I freshen up, I touch up my lipstick in the mirror, then head back into the narrow hallway, stopping short when I spot Max. Hard to miss him. He’s leaning against the brick wall across from the ladies’ room.
Waiting for me. Looking like every sexy mistake I want to make.
“Everly,” he says, like this is important, whatever he’s about to say. “I’m sorry you’re pissed at me, but I’m not sorry I crashed your date.”
I groan. Here he goes again, being infuriating. “Why do you do this?”
“Do what?”
I flap my hand toward the end of the hallway, indicating the table around the corner where we just met with everyone who matters to our jobs. “Do something nice like what you said at the table, then return to saying this stuff? This I know what’s good for you crap.”
“Because it’s true. You and Lucas weren’t even into each other.”
“That’s not really for you to decide,” I say.
He steps closer, his gaze narrowed. “He invited my sister and me to join your date.”
“He was being nice! Ever heard of it?”
Max crowds me, his heated eyes holding mine, his body so dangerously close I catch a hint of the bold and spicy Midnight Flame. Chili pepper and cedar and wild nights. I didn’t smell that at The Spotted Zebra. Did he splash it on while driving over? Did he do it for me? Change for me to look even more tempting? I don’t understand him. I don’t understand myself either and why my body reacts to him. The way he looks at me is unfairly alluring.
I’m aching.
And he’s shaking his head, like he can’t believe I said Lucas was nice. Max lifts a hand, reaches for the collar of my black blouse, and runs a finger gently along the silk, barely touching my skin but lighting me up all at the same time. “For the record, if I took you out, I’d never invite anyone to join my date with you.”
I’m thrown off by that statement, the intensity of it, the passion of it. I don’t have a comeback, but he doesn’t seem to need one since he keeps going. “Besides, drinks is a cop-out. He should take you to dinner. He should drive you home. He should walk you to your door. He should make sure you get inside safely. But before he does that, he should devastate you with a kiss like he can’t fucking breathe if he doesn’t kiss you.”
Forget aching. I’m outrageously aroused. My breath catches. But I say nothing still as he lets go of my shirt, finishing with, “I would never share you.”
I’m so off-kilter, because Max is so close to me, the hallway is so narrow, my boss is in the other room, and yet I’m not walking away from the very bad idea of him. “What if I like nice guys?” I counter.
He pins me with his gaze. “You don’t.”
“You don’t know what I like.”
He smirks. “I think I do though.”
A dish rattles from somewhere in the restaurant, breaking the heated moment. I swirl around and return to the table, putting on a fake front for the rest of the meal.
Fake because it hides this unbridled desire ricocheting through me as those words echo in my mind.
I would never share you.
When the meal ends, I say goodbye to everyone, then head outside to call a Lyft, grateful to put some distance between me and the object of this inappropriate lust.
But my phone is fading fast. The battery’s at one percent right as the car options populate. “C’mon,” I mutter as I try to grab one before the screen of death appears.
I’m too late. But seconds later, the scent of midnight wraps around me. “I’ll drive you home,” Max says, striding up next to me on the street, having just left Kitchen Mosaic.
I wince, not wanting to take him up on it. Not trusting myself to. But having no choice.
I turn around and give in. “Fine.”
He sets his hand on the small of my back as he walks me to his car, like a man who’d never share me.
19
A PIECE OF ME
Max
The car is quiet for several blocks as I zip along Columbus Avenue, catching all the green lights. Normally, I’d be all over this kind of traffic luck. But tonight I’d like to hit every single red.
Something to buy some time. Slow us down. Figure out what to do next.
The silence hangs heavily in the car. I should say something to Everly. But I already apologized. Plus, I don’t want to talk about that guy again. I’m not sure I should talk. I’ve said enough, and I should remember what a bad idea we are.