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Sloane still stood in the doorway of her apartment, her gaze glued to his. Her phone, temporarily forgotten in her hand, hung by her side. Did she know it was still ringing?
Chapter Three
Sloane
Barely able to breathe, Sloane slipped inside and closed the door. She looked down at the phone that kept ringing in her hand. Brody. Shesowasn’t in the mood to speak to him. Not only had he blown her off again, but after those scorching kisses from Max, there was no way she was in the right frame of mind to deal with him. Hitting the Ignore button, she quickly sent a text to Mirabella. She let her know that she had arrived home safely and would be by tomorrow to get her car.
Without waiting for her reply, Sloane grabbed a t-shirt to sleep in. Once it was on, she smelled Brody. Eyeing herself in the mirror, the oversized t-shirt mocked her. No way was she wearing his shirt while Max invaded her every thought. She wondered what consequences he could be talking about. Her body involuntarily shivered. She pulled off the t-shirt and threw it into the hamper before she climbed into bed.
The next morning came way too soon. Sloane needed a carafe of coffee and half a bottle of aspirin, at the very least. She fetched a clean t-shirt—one of her own—and a pair of yoga pants. She needed to go find deliverance from the polka band playing in her head. Ugh, why oh why did she drink so much last night?
After making it slowly to the living room, she decided coffee was in order first. She veered to the left, entering her kitchen nook, and fumbled to set the coffee up. The smell teased her senses. A long gong tore her attention away from the little miracle machine percolating in front of her. She hurried to get to the front hall before the doorbell rang again. Too late—the sound pulled a groan from her and she covered her ears like a toddler. The clock on the microwave showed it was just after eight. Who could that be this early on a Sunday? Peeking through the peephole suspiciously, she almost started to drool. Standing on the other side of her door, looking like a god, was Max. She took a moment to appreciate him this way, rather than to gawk openly where he could see.
His sunglasses were perched on top of his head. He still hadn’t shaved. Normally she went for the clean-cut, boy-next-door look, but for some reason the shaggy hair and stubble turned her insides into putty. His gaze landed right on the small glass circle she was looking out of. The corner of his lip pulled up into a small smirk. The sight caused her pulse to speed up.
“I’m not leaving, so you might as well open the door, Sloane.”
Oh. My. God! Sloane quickly backed away from the door. How did he…? Taking a deep cleansing breath, she reached forward, unlocked the door, and pulled it open. Max drank her in openly. Every place his eyes landed ignited as if he had actually touched her.
“How did you know I was there?”
“I could see your shadow under the door. I figured you were watching for me to give up and leave. Not likely.”
“Oh. What are you doing here?”
“I thought you could use a lift back to Foster’s to get your car. I was heading there anyway.”
“Thank you for thinking of me. I still need to get dressed; I don’t want to hold you up.”
“We have plenty of time. I can wait…that is, unless you take as long as Bella to get ready.” He laughed.
“Good grief, no! I love her and all, but that girl makes getting ready look like an Olympic event. It’ll only take me about twenty minutes. Come on inside and make yourself comfortable.”
Sloane opened the door wider to allow Max to enter her apartment. She tried not to sniff him. She really did.
“Okay. Thanks.”
She led him into the kitchen area where the smell of brewed coffee made her salivate.
“Would you mind if I finished my coffee first, though? I don’t think it would be wise for anyone to be around me if I didn’t get my caffeine fix.”
“Not at all.”
“Thanks, would you like some?”
“Sure. Just black, please.”
Sloane filled another mug with coffee and placed it in front of Max. She stood on one side of the little kitchen island as he sat on a stool across from her. She watched him sip from his mug. She loved the way his large hand wrapped around it, instead of using the handle. He glanced around the room, taking in her apartment. No other men had been in her apartment other than Brody or Foster in ages, and she didn’t know what to say to Max. Luckily he saved her from stumbling through an icebreaker.
“Nice place. Lived here long?”
“Almost five years.”
“Have you worked for Detlef long?”
“I’ve been his assistant for three years now. How about you—how long have you been a bodyguard?”
Bodyguard. She devoured him with her eyes. His t-shirt hugged his shoulders and chest in the most delicious way. She wanted to see more of the tattoos that disappeared under his shirt. Her mind started to wander.He can guard my body whenever he wa—Oh God.Where hadthatthought come from? She shouldn’t be picturing him pressed up against her, but now all she could think about was him pinning her against the fridge, that stubbled jaw grazing against her neck…Heat crawled up her face. Hopefully Max didn’t notice. The way he was currently studying her however, there was no way he didn’t notice. He tried to hide a smirk. She was totally busted. Ugh.
