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“I asked if she wanted to say goodbye to you, and she said no because you had promised it was only for the weekend, and that’s all you’d wanted.”
I let out a soft curse. Things had changed since we’d made our promises.
“Then she said an NDA was mentioned, and if you wanted her to sign one, you could email her or something.”
I shook my head. “I never talked to her about an NDA. Unless she overheard Shane and me arguing about me not having one— Shit.” I cursed, wincing at what else she must have overheard.
Shane got defensive under his wife’s glare. “Wasn’t as if I knew she meant something to him.”
A moment of insecurity hit me. Oakley might not want what my sister did, but that didn’t mean she wanted a boyfriend who worked every weekend in its entirety—at a sex club of all places. “It doesn’t matter.”
They both turned toward me. Daniella spoke first. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’d make a terrible boyfriend.”
Dani’s eyes narrowed. “Bullshit. You’re in your head again, Max. Don’t make assumptions. If you want to see her again, then do so. If you want to try to make it work, then do it. At the very least, ask her what she wants before pretending you know what’s best for her.”
Shane spoke next. “Sounds familiar. Pretty sure you said something similar to me, telling me to pull my head out of my ass. I never thought I’d be the guy who took a night off or a honeymoon, but we made it work. And you can too. Don’t you think this thing might be worth a chance? At least to talk to her.”
“Don’t you think if Oakley wanted a chance with me, she wouldn’t have taken off?”
“I think if she heard you call her a weekend fling and you planning to start performing again, you might need to be the one who makes the first move.” Shane obviously remembered as well as I did the damning things I’d said earlier in the morning.
Shit. “I meant performing again with her.”
“Not what you said, though. And if she overheard you—?”
Then she would have assumed I meant with other women. Shit, shit, shit. “I have her address.” Thank goodness I had it in the GPS.
Daniella smiled. “Well, then, what are you waiting for?”
I returned her grin. Good question. I’d go home, take a shower, and practice what I wanted to say to win the girl.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Oakley
My Uber ride of heartbreak home was without incident. I went inside my little apartment, locked the door, and flopped on my bed. My four-hundred-and-fifty-square-foot studio wasn’t much, but at least it was home. And everyone knew home was where you could cry your sorrows into a pint of ice cream. Or two. The nice part of living alone was I could wallow without interruption.
But unfortunately, I had no ice cream. Or food, for that matter—at least not the kind you wanted to drown your sorrows in. ’Cause let’s face it, a frozen Lean Cuisine never made anyone feel better about anything. I closed the freezer door, dreading the idea of going to the store. But tomorrow was the start of the work week. If I didn’t do the task today, I’d regret it all week.
First, I needed a shower. A long, hot shower where I tried not to think about Max’s hands on my body. Afterwards, it was tempting to slink back into bed, but I needed empty carbs to fortify me through the night to come.
An hour later, armed with bags of chips, ice cream, two boxes of cereal and a gallon of milk, I returned home from the store. It wasn’t long before I was sitting on my bed in my comfy clothes, staring at my phone and wishing for a text I knew would never come. Max didn’t even have my phone number.
When Kate’s number flashed, I hit ignore. I wasn’t ready to speak with her.
She’d decided to judge me and then shame me. Nope, if I had learned one thing from Max, it was never to be ashamed again.
Thinking about Max made my chest ache. After last night, it seemed so strange to return to my mundane apartment and boring life. I’d been exposed to the neon sparkle in life, and now I was stuck with the matte, muted colors of mere existence. It wasn’t just the sex. It was his humor, his boyish grin, and the way he made me feel like I was the most beautiful woman in the room.
So much for keeping my promises. I’d broken both by establishing feelings and wanting something beyond the weekend.
I exhaled and poured myself a monster bowl of Lucky Charms.
My phone rang again, this time from an unknown number. Hoping for Max, I picked up.
“It’s me. Please don’t hang up.”
