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Sloane
I walk out of the hospital, exhausted, blinking in the bright sunlight. My back is stiff, my hair probably needs a crazy intense wash, and my feet…holy crap. Walking hurts. Every time my foot hits the pavement, I wince. Pins and needles…how did they even have a chance to form since I’ve literally been on my feet for the past twelve hours, other than the few bathroom breaks I took?
I pull out my messy bun, letting my hair fall over my shoulders. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be in the shower soon enough. I tug my coat tighter around me since there’s a biting chill in the air. The more steps I take, the more convinced I am that a hot bath is what I need. Screw standing. I’m tired of standing.
I shade my eyes with a hand and peer into the parking lot. Where the heck did I even park? I can’t remember. I lose all track of time when I work a few days in a row, and truth be told, I’d have to really think about what day it is.
“You look a little lost for someone who practically lives here.”
I swallow a gasp and jump. “Max! What the heck are you doing here?” I squint at him. “Do you even know what time it is?”
He grins. “I do. I’ve been waiting for a long time for you. I thought you got off at seven, but I didn’t realize that meant seven in the morning.”
I furrow my brow. “You’ve been here in the parking lot since last night?” Why won’t the cobwebs clear?
“Not quite. Although, would that impress you?”
I narrow my eyes. “Since sleep is such a commodity for me, I’d say no, that if you waited for me for twelve hours when you could be home in bed, you’d need to have your head examined.”
“You wouldn’t be flattered at all?”
“Was that your plan? To impress me?”
“Not quite.”
“So why are you here?” I need coffee. Massive amounts of coffee. There is something happening here, and dammit, I just can’t figure it out.
“I want to take you to breakfast.”
I run a hand through my hair, and my eyes widen. Holy shit. My hair! My greasy, grimy, frizzy hair! “Shit,” I mutter, my brain finally deciding to wake up. “I’m, um, not exactly presentable enough to eat in public.”
“You look gorgeous. You look like a woman who’s spent the last twelve hours of her life helping people in need. I can’t imagine anything sexier.”
A hot flush creeps up the sides of my face. “Thanks, but I, um, I don’t really think—”
“I don’t want you to think.” He inches closer, his heated stare causing my knees to wobble against each other. “I just want you to join me for breakfast.” He pulls open the passenger side door of his truck, and I slide inside, sinking into the pebbled leather seat.
“You know, I’m not really sure how to take this version of Maximo Oriani.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
Max closes my door and jogs around to the other side, opening the door. “What are you talking about? I’m just being my normal, charming self.” He flops into the seat and guns the engine.
“Your ‘normal, charming self’ is actually kind of moody. And confrontational. And shut down.”
“I’m not allowed to have a bad day? Or month?” A teasing smile lifts his lips. I lock my knees together, fighting the urge to crush my own lips to his right now. In fact, the only thing that stops me is the fact that I need to brush my teeth. Badly.
“You’re entitled.” I shrug. “I know you’re human. Well, at least I think that’s the case. Most of the time.”
He clutches a hand to his heart and puts the car in Drive. “That hurts, Sloane. After I bore my soul to you the other night?”
“Look, don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’re opening up, but like I said, we’ve gone down this path before. Sue me if I’m still a little gun shy.”
“You weren’t shy at all the other night.”
I swallow hard. No. I wasn’t. I should have played a little harder to get, darn it. Instead, I was a complete whore for him, and I’d do it again in a hot second if given the chance. “I just can’t figure you out, Max.” And quite honestly, I’m afraid to even try.
“Sometimes I can’t figure me out either,” he muses, maneuvering the car out of the parking lot.
“Imagine how the rest of us feel.” I comb my fingers through my hair and cringe at the texture. I am so gross right now. How am I sitting here, even thinking about showing my face in public?
