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Chapter 8
Maxi’s foot tapped on the hardwood floor as she scrolled through her vendor confirmation emails for the third time. Triple checking the responses had more to do with her inability to concentrate and less to do with possessing a stellar work ethic. Distracted didn’t begin to describe her mental state. Her mind was focused on one thing and one thing only.
Billy Marshall.
Every attempt to tune out the fact that he was here, in her condo, on her couch—the couch that they’d slept on together last night—was a total fail. She’d try to clear her head but sneaky flashes of waking up snuggled against his chest, his arm wrapped around her body, his hand cupping her hip, kept popping up in her mind.
Last night felt so surreal. She didn’t even remember falling asleep. Her last memory of the night before was hiding her face in Billy’s shoulder during a particularly terrifying scene. The next recollection she had was drifting awake feeling warm, safe, and more than a little turned on.
Then her turned on state got turned up when she’d felt the vibration through his chest on her cheek as he’d said, “Good morning, gorgeous.”
That’s when she’d shot up off the couch like she’d sat on a porcupine. Her momentum resulted in her feet fumbling over each other. She stumbled, tripped, and even did a little spin just to stay on her feet. Normally she needed a cup of coffee before she was able to string two words together much less move like Jagger, but not this morning. Java had nothing on arousal. She was practically tap dancing and she’d barely opened her eyes.
Morning afters had never been something that Maxi had excelled at. She’d always chalked up her inability to gracefully navigate the awkwardness to a lack of experience. This morning wasn’t technically a “morning after” but she’d handled it with about the same amount of smoothness. Instead of saying good morning like a normal person, she’d sprung up from her seat and done her best speed walker impression to her bedroom where she’d changed into running clothes.
When she appeared from her room Billy insisted on going with her, so he changed and accompanied her on her five mile run. She loved running with him. His presence not only made her feel safe it also inspired her to push herself even harder than she normally did. The entire time she’d had to keep reminding herself not to get used to him being there.
After the run they’d returned home where he’d made breakfast while she took a shower. He was a great cook. Much better than her. Her dad always took Billy up on his offers to cook Sunday dinner, her offers…not so much. He’d say he was in the mood for Chinese or pizza, that he enjoyed cooking and it was his time to relax, or that she worked so hard and he wanted her to relax. All of which was code for: your cooking stinks. It was true, it really did.
When breakfast was done Billy took an uncharacteristically speedy shower while she washed the dishes. For as long as she could remember he’d had a reputation for taking long showers. It was a running joke at the gym that he needed the extra time to wash off all the skank. But today he’d been in and out in less than five minutes.
During the short reprieve of alone time she’d tried to build up some emotional protection, but before she could he was back and sexier than ever. The scene was straight out of a movie. The bathroom door opened and he stepped out surrounded by steam. As he walked towards her in slow motion (at least that’s how her brain had seen it) the seductive combination of clean and masculine scent filled the air. His hair was damp causing it to be a shade darker which highlighted his golden brown eyes. But the real show-stopping panty-melter was the five o’clock shadow he was rocking. The light sprinkle of hair peppered on his chin had Maxi’s hands itching to touch it.
One look at him and she’d known that no mere mortal woman could resist his appeal. So she’d grabbed her computer and claimed she needed to work. That was three hours ago. Since then he’d been on the couch watching TV and she’d been at the kitchen table “working.” Or, at least trying to. To her credit, it wasn’t just his presence, though that was more distracting than fresh baked cookies when you’re on a no sugar diet. No, there was another element breaking her concentration as well. His phone was going off every few minutes, or at least that’s what it felt like. The few times she had been able to concentrate and get a flow going the thing would vibrate with either a text or call. Billy would pick it up, check it, type quick responses and put it down.
The first ten times he’d received a call or text Maxi had asked if there was any news on the case. She figured that Detective Grover would call her if there were any breaks on the law enforcement side, but if Seth found anything out chances were he’d contact Billy. So far, every time she’d asked, he’d say no and hadn’t elaborated on who was contacting him. Not that he owed her any explanation. He didn’t. But that didn’t stop her from wanting to know.
Stretching her arms above her head, she inhaled deeply and exhaled audibly before diving back into her inbox. She scanned for anything that needed her attention. When she heard the buzzing of a phone she automatically thought it was Billy’s but when her eyes lifted she noticed the screen on her phone was lighting up.
Grabbing the device from the table she saw that it was Jana texting her. Her friend asked how Maxi was doing. She responded, telling her that she was fine. The next text came through before she’d even set the phone back down. She was asking if Billy had fun last night.
Maxi felt a flitter of excitement at having an excuse to ask him. “Jana wants to know if you had fun last night.”
“Yes and no,” he answered without turning around.
She typed his response, hoping her friend would ask a follow up.
So when Jana asked if he could be more specific Maxi wanted to give her friend a virtual high five.
“She asked if you could be more specific,” Maxi’s tone was intentionally dripping with casual indifference.
There was a silent pause before he turned his head and when his light brown stare met hers her pulse raced like it was in the lead on the last lap of the Indy 500.
“The poetry was worse than getting a root canal but the movie and sleepover were more fun than I’ve had in a while,” he ended with a wink.
“Pffft,” Maxi huffed in disbelief. There was no way he’d actually had fun sleeping sitting up on a couch with her using him as a pillow. She had, but her personal life was nothing to write home about. His, on the other hand, had entire blogs dedicated to it. Or at least it had when he was fighting.
Even though she knew he couldn’t possibly have meant what he’d claimed, she couldn’t help the giddiness that his statement caused to bloom low in her belly.
After typing back a response telling her friend that poetry wasn’t really his thing, she decided to give up on “working” and closed her computer.
“What did you tell her?” Billy’s arm rested over the back of the couch.
“That poetry really isn’t your thing.”
“Why didn’t you tell her what I actually said?”
“I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.”
