“Here, you’ll need to use this for me since I’ll have my hands full,” Max says as he grabs the cage, while I wheel the suitcases. We walk to a small lobby, and he shows me how to use a keycard to gain access to the area. “I’ve got a second keycard upstairs you can have.”
“That’s not necessary,” I say hastily. “I won’t be here long.”
Max chuckles. “How do you think you’ll come and go, Lay?”
“I don’t know. I assume since we’re basically on the same schedule, I’d wait for you,” I answer defiantly. Tipping my chin up, I stare at him, pursing my lips. A wide grin spreads across his face as he laughs.
“We are not on the same schedule, Layla. You start earlier than I do, and I’m there later than you. It’s just a key. Not like it ties you to me forever or anything.”
“Ha!” I shout awkwardly. “Wouldn’t that just be the absolute worst? Can’t imagine anything worse than that.”
As the elevator dings with its arrival, Max’s smile disappears as he studies me. “Damn. Tell me how you really feel.”
“Well, I mean —” I stammer, but he shakes his head.
“Nah. I got it. No need to lay it on any thicker.” He keeps his face impassive as he watches the numbers above the elevator door. When we arrive on the twentieth floor, I silently follow him out. As we arrive at the door, he motions for me to wave the keycard over the lock. When the lock disengages, I push the door open, stepping into quite possibly the most beautiful apartment I’ve ever seen. I barely remember to hold the door for Max as I’m too busy fawning over the space with my jaw on the floor.
Floor-to-ceiling windows cover the far wall. The ceiling heights have to be at least ten feet. A gourmet kitchen sits off to the left, featuring a massive island and six stools. The living room has ahuge L-shaped white leather couch, and two plush chairs that look perfect for reading sit by the windows. Everything is in shades of white and beige, giving it a clean and sophisticated look. It’s all bland, which is not at all how I see Max. I turn to him, my mouth still open, and wait for him to speak.
“What?” he says with a laugh.
Letting go of the luggage I dragged in, I motion across the entire space. “This … this isn’t you. This is weird. How many bedrooms are there?”
“Four.”
“Bathrooms?”
“Five.”
I scoff. “Why are there more bathrooms than bedrooms? And why do you need any of this? It’s so freaking beige and white in here. It’s bland and boring. This isn’t you. Did you pick any of this out? Why isn’t there any color? If I had to pick something for you based on color, I kinda assumed it would be black —”
“Like my soul?” he quips, making me smile.
“Something like that. Although I think this space could look super sleek and seductive with black accents. And you could get some honey-colored items, like the specks in your eyes.”
“Excuse me, my what?” he asks incredulously.
Well, shoot. Embarrassed, I feel shame flood my cheeks. “Nothing.”
“Uh-uh,” Max says, setting the cage down on the island.
“Max! Those counters are probably granite! Don’t put a guinea pig cage on them!” I shout.
“They’re quartz, but that’s beside the point,” Max answers, gesturing nonchalantly at the counters. “What did you say about my eyes?”
“I mean, nothing. Just that you have honey specks in your eyes,” I mumble.
“And you think I should match my interior decorating to that color.”
“It was just a suggestion.” I glance up to find Max staring at me. “What?”
He lets out a long exhale. “You need to pick a lane.”
“Huh?”
“You hold my hand in the car, then you comment that being with me would be the ‘worst,’” he says with air quotes, “and then you comment on matching a shade in my eyes. Pick a lane, Layla. Either you want me, or you don’t. Let me show you to your room.”
Gobsmacked, I follow Max down a hallway. He opens the last door on the left, where a large bed covered in a thick white comforter takes up the majority of the space. A dresser sits on the side of the bed, and two doors are on the opposite wall.
