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“I love you.” He’s now sitting up, his back against the sofa, staring at the massive stone fireplace that’s the focal point of the room. It’s as if his eyes can’t tear themselves from the damned fireplace.
I can barely breathe. “Why aren’t you looking at me?”
He swallows. “Because I’m kind of freaked out. I’ve never said that, to anyone. But that’s the way I feel.”
Now I’m frozen on the sofa, staring at him. We’re two bundles of awkward. “You do?”
He finally turns to look at me. I expect him to grab me in a clench, like in a romance novel or a romantic movie. Instead, his pinkie finger finds mine while we stare into each other’s eyes.
“I was miserable when we broke up.”
“Not too miserable to sleep around, though.”
The side of his mouth quirks up. “I thought you weren’t jealous.”
“I’m not. Just making an observation.”
His pinkie hooks into mine. “I had some pretty wild times starting about six months after we broke up. I won’t deny it. I was looking for what we had. I didn’t find it, because there’s only one you, one us. I love being with you. Talking to you. Laughing with you. I feel comfortable around you. Like you’re my family, but better, because I’m also so attracted to you. It’s always been you, Lily. No one else.”
I lick my lips, unsure of how to feel about this. Part of me is soaring, thrilled that he’s finally expressed his feelings. Another part of me is scared as hell. I think about his weird slot machine metaphor and the tattoo on his thigh and it all makes sense now.
“I got caught up in the scene, the Formula World party circuit crap. That’s also why I slept around. Because I could. Because I was trying to block out the loneliness I felt. I’m not blaming you at all, it’s on me.”
“You think you’re over that, ah, phase?”
Now his entire hand covers mine. “I know I’m over it. I’ve been over it for the past couple of years. Ask anyone. I haven’t even been in the tabloids for anything more than racing. I haven’t had sex with anyone for months, until you.”
The part about the tabloids was true, even if I hadn’t wanted to admit it to myself. “I figured that you got better at hiding your activities from the press.”
“No. I’ve changed. Matured. Whatever you want to call it.”
It’s difficult to believe this is happening. Hard to fathom that he loves me, and I think I should say it back. I gulp in a deep breath, then another, then a third, and when it seems like I’m on the verge of hyperventilating, I feel Max’s strong arms around me.
“What are we going to do?” I murmur into his neck as we collapse together on the sofa. We end up lying down, with me half on top of him.
“What do you mean?” He brushes my hair back from my face.
“With the team. Me being in charge.”
“That’s not for long, you said so yourself. Your dad plans to return soon, you said.”
“Yes, but eventually we’ll have to go public, and that will raise so many eyebrows and cause scandal and . . .” I heave a sigh.
“Mausbär, we can get through this. There are ways. We’ll keep things quiet for the rest of the season, then once your father’s back I’ll talk to him.”
I lift my head. “Why? What do you mean?”
“I want to tell Adrian, man-to-man. He should hear my feelings and my intentions from me.”
“What are your intentions, anyway?”
He hums and slides his hands under my white fuzzy robe, cupping my ass. “My intentions right now are to get you naked again.”
I’m laughing as I sit up and shrug off my robe, but my laughter dissolves as he flips me onto my back and parts my legs. He kisses his way down my body, pausing to nibble at the crease of my thigh.
Then all at once he dives in with his mouth and his fingers, simultaneously filling me and tasting me. It’s like the man’s sole mission is to worship me, something I’m not used to with the men I’ve been with.
“You’re way more delicious than the apple cake,” he mutters against my skin.
