Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 135831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Max runs his hand along my bare arm. His touch is gentle this time, reassuring. “How did you feel when you did the tricks?”
I don’t fight off a smile now. “Pretty damn badass.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “You are badass. And beautiful.” He pulls back, pinning me with his strong gaze. “And today, out like this…you’ve never looked sexier.”
I run one hand over my shoulder. I’d almost forgotten my skin was on display, but none of the waitstaff have looked at my shoulder with a poor you look in their eyes. No one has noticed the scars except this beautiful man sitting across from me, and all he’s done is praise them.
“You don’t have to show them to me until you’re ready, but you need to know this, Everly—I’m not that guy.”
It’s my turn to reassure him. “I know you’re not. And it means a lot to me to know that. Truly, it does.”
“Good.” That one word has more passion than anything I’ve ever heard. “Like I said, we can take everything at your pace. But I’m not going to freak out. You have to trust me.”
I want to trust him. But trust is a blade that could cut me all over again. “I’ll try. I promise.”
“I promise to always earn it.”
My chest tingles and a warm, heady pull tugs low in my belly. His eyes say he does too. For a second, I’m convinced he’ll risk a kiss and that I’ll say yes and melt into his arms. But the moment is broken when a server comes out and brings us our food. Maybe we needed this levity. This break.
When he’s gone, Max says, “Thank you for telling me.”
I tug on the neckline of the kind of a shirt I’ve only had the guts to wear with him. “Thank you for giving me a chance to wear a shirt like this.”
His eyes fill with warmth. And a tenderness that says he understands exactly what that means. “You can have all your chances with me.”
The thing is, I think I know that.
But I wish that I hadn’t found all these chances in a man I’m not supposed to be with. A man I can’t figure out how to fit into the rest of my life.
I made a promise three years ago to live my best life. I don’t know how to fit all these wild feelings for him into that promise. I don’t know how wanting him so deeply aligns with my career. With my need to support myself.
This job pays for my life. I don’t have any fallbacks. I can’t rely on my family. I can’t take the risk especially when I’m lucky to be alive.
But right now, I have to hold on to that luck for exactly what it means—today. This moment. I look around, soak up the sun, and tilt my face to the sky. I’m not trapped in a car that’s starting to burn. I look at Max once more. “At least there is this beautiful day.”
We eat.
When we’re done, Max says like it’s a dare, “Say yes to dessert.”
“That’s easy. You know I like cake.”
“Then say yes.” He’s so bossy.
“Yes.”
A few minutes later, a coconut cake with mango filling arrives, and we share it. When we’re done, the sun dips lower in the sky. Max looks to the nearby gravel lot, then me. “Say yes to coming to my place now.”
As if I would say anything else. “Yes.”
Then he flashes me an I’ve got a secret smile. “Good. Because there’s someone I want you to meet.”
I blink. What? Who the hell could that be?
38
A STRIPTEASE
Max
As Athena curls her furry, little body around my hand, trying to kill my fingers and bring them home to me to prove she thinks of me as part of her clan, Everly declares, “You’re a cat person.”
She says it like it makes all the sense in the world.
“Does that surprise you?” I ask, sinking deeper into the couch in my living room.
She’s right next to me, shaking her head. “The cat fits you.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I say.
“Of course you would.”
“Of course you meant it that way,” I say as I hand wrestle the huntress I live with. “You’re a dog person, aren’t you?”
“Um, yes. But you,” Everly says, and she’s too delighted. “You foster kittens and you’ve been keeping that a secret.”
I shrug. “Can you blame me? If I’d told you I fostered kittens, you would’ve had a field day with it.”
“You’re right. I would.” Her lips twitch with amusement. “Imagine if people knew what you’re really like.”
“What am I really like?”
She raises a hand. Counts off on her fingers. “A guy who fosters kittens. Who coaches underprivileged kids in hockey. Who asks his dad for help planning a date. Who cannot stop romancing me. You’re too sw—”