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Max reaches his hand out to me, placing it over my fingers, which are spread on the floor.
“Well, I’ll say it in simple words. You’ve had bad luck. Your dad was an asshole, and you lost your mother. You also haven’t had much luck with men. I could be cocky and say that it’s a sign you had to wait for me, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”
I burst out laughing, and he laughs with me. God, I could listen
to this sound the entire day.
“Told you I could make you laugh.” Without warning, he cups my cheeks in his hands. “I have known who you are for fifteen years, Jonesie. All your fears, all your insecurities were there when I met you, in one form or another.” With a smirk, he adds, “And you know my fears too.”
“You hate small spaces.” I claw myself out from his grip because his lips are far too close to mine. “That makes you so undesirable.”
“Well, it does mean we could never have sex in an elevator or a broom closet.”
“Two places which are very high on my list,” I deadpan, though I break out in a sweat imagining the two of us doing the deed in a broom closet.
“Look, it’s not like I have a great record with dating,” Max continues. “Can’t promise this will work. Maybe I’ll screw up. Maybe you’ll screw up. Maybe we both will. We’ll never know if we don’t try.”
I hug my knees to my chest, resting my chin on them and looking at the beautiful man in front of me.
“Let’s grab dinner tonight,” he suggests, glancing at the clock to our right. The session is almost up. “We don’t have any sessions left, and we need to sort this out, Emilia.”
“Okay, but I have a seminar I can’t skip. I finish at nine.”
“I’ll pick you up when you’re done. Text me the address.”
“Okay.”
We both rise to our feet, and Max kisses my forehead, placing one hand on the center of my back. I can sense the message behind his gesture, a soft encouragement to trust him. But he lingers with his lips on my skin for a split second too long, and the innocent touch turns into a sinful sensation, his mouth igniting me. Desire zips through me, and I’m suddenly hyperaware of all things Max: the very faint stubble on his chin, his masculine scent of wood and sea, the slight tremor in his chest… and mine. We’re both seconds away from losing control.
When he takes a step back, we’re both panting.
“See you tonight, Emilia.”
Chapter Fourteen
Emilia
The rest of the day passes by in a haze, and by the time I leave the clinic and head to the hotel downtown where the seminar is taking place, I have butterflies in my stomach. On the way, I call my neighbor Mrs. Wilson, thanking her again for agreeing to look after Grams tonight. She offered to sleep at our house, insisting that I stay out for as long as I want.
As I step inside the seminar room, the clock hanging on the wall in the front catches my attention. There are fifty-nine minutes left until Max picks me up. But who’s counting?
I force myself to focus on the seminar, taking notes and already making a mental list of the patients who would benefit from the techniques presented. The second it’s over I burst out the door and walk to the elevator, heading to the underground parking lot of the hotel, where Max texted me that he’s waiting for me.
Just before the elevator doors close, John steps inside.
“Emilia! Just the woman I was looking for.”
“Hi,” I say tiredly.
“How about that third date? It’s Friday night, we can stay up late.” He stands with his feet planted wide, and I have to move around him to push the button for the underground level. After pressing the button, I decide that bluntness is needed, since the man seems incapable of taking a hint.
“Look, John. No offense, but we weren’t on any date. It was just two colleagues grabbing a quick bite.”
His usually friendly expression morphs into a grimace of disbelief.
“Didn’t occur to you to say that before I paid?” he bellows.
“It was cheap pizza. And you were the one who pretended to go to the bathroom but instead paid the bill. Both times.” I can barely contain my anger now.
