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I wiped tears from my cheeks and took a deep breath. We talked for a few minutes after that, but couldn’t move past the heaviness of the conversation we’d just had. We left off saying we’d talk soon, but neither of us committed to when that might be. After, I jumped in the shower, hoping to clear my head and change my mood. But I couldn’t shake the melancholy feeling that had set in.
Max came back just as I was getting dressed. My back was to the door as I clipped on my bra, and he came up behind me and wrapped his hands around my waist.
“You have the sexiest bras and underwear, you know that?”
I smiled. “It makes me feel good to have something lacy on, even when it’s hidden under sweatpants at home. How did your meeting go?”
Max turned me around, and his face fell. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
His brows pulled together. “Bullshit. It looks like you were crying.”
I was so damn emotional, and I knew if I talked about it I’d break down. And I didn’t want to cry to Max about Gabriel. So I took a deep breath and steadied myself, hoping he would let it go if I gave him something. “I spoke to Gabriel.”
Max’s jaw tightened. “Did he upset you?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Well, yes. But he didn’t do anything. It was just…a hard conversation to have. He knows I’ve been seeing someone.”
Max looked into my eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I smiled sadly. “No. But thank you for asking. I’d really just like to enjoy our last day here.”
He looked down for a minute before nodding.
“Tell me about your meeting with your agent,” I pressed. “Were you happy with what he had to say?”
He nodded. “It went well. Hockey contract negotiations aren’t just agreeing on a number. The structure of payments can take longer to finalize than coming to the total because of the team’s salary-cap limits.”
“I didn’t realize they couldn’t just pay people what they want.”
“They also want me to fly out to California next week—meet with the owner and general manager.”
“Are you going to?”
He brushed his hand over my hair. “Why don’t you come with me?”
“I wish I could,” I sighed. “But I need to go back to work. I have a lot of things waiting for me.”
Max tilted his head. “Are you sure it’s not because of the conversation that upset you earlier?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s really not.”
He nodded. “So what do you want to do for our last day?”
“Honestly, I’d love to just go to the park for a little while and then come back here and snuggle.”
Max smiled. “Done.”
• • •
The next morning I woke to find Max staring at me.
“What are you doing?” I asked groggily.
He stroked my cheek with his knuckles. “Looking at you.”
“While I sleep? That’s creepy, Pretty Boy.”
“You were snoring pretty good.”
“I do not snore.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot.” He smiled. “Can I ask you something about…him?”
“Gabriel?”
Max nodded.
“Of course.”
“What if he hadn’t broken things off, but still went to go teach in London for the year or however long he signed up for?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you think it would’ve worked out? Him being in London and you being in New York for that long?”
“And him not sleeping with anyone else? He would be faithful?”
“Yeah.”
I shrugged. “I guess so. I can’t think of a reason it wouldn’t have. But I didn’t know he was planning on going to London until a few days before he broke things off. I suppose we could have worked out a travel schedule and taken turns visiting on weekends and stuff. I mean, we didn’t see each other most weekdays anyway because I worked late.”
Max nodded.
“Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Just thinking, I guess.”
He was talking about Gabriel, but I felt a flutter of hope in my belly that maybe, just maybe, he was asking because the flying time to London was about the same as a trip to California.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“It’s almost ten.”
“Oh wow. Is checkout at eleven?”
Max nodded.
“I guess I should get my lazy ass out of bed and shower.”
“I have a better idea.”
“What’s that?”
He slid his hand down my body and dipped between my legs with a grin. “Let’s get you wet. But you can shower later.”
CHAPTER 18
* * *
Georgia
“Alright, that’s it. We’re leaving.” Maggie stood from the guest chair on the other side of my desk.
My forehead wrinkled. “What? Where are we going?”
“To get some answers.”
I laughed. “What are you talking about, crazy lady?”
“We’re going to that cute wine bar two blocks down, the one next to the questionable foot-massage place that only ever has men walk in and the massages are in private rooms.”
“I still have work to do.”
I’d been back in the office for four days but had barely dug out of the backlog of emails to answer, reports to review, and calls to return.
