by Keeland, Vi
“That’s a really cool idea.”
Max nodded. “Austin was smart. He was a dual major in architecture and architectural engineering. I have his prototypes and illustrations. He never got to see his ideas become more, so I’m hoping maybe I can finish things for him.”
“Wow. I think it’s pretty amazing that you want to honor his memory by bringing his ideas to life.”
The waiter came with our meals. We’d ordered the pan-seared sea bass and the risotto Milanese with asparagus and shrimp. I salivated as the plates were arranged on the table. Max split up the dishes and passed one over to me.
“This looks delicious,” I said. “Though it also reminds me of another thing on my list. I need to find some sort of hobby that incorporates exercise I enjoy, because I hate going to the gym. I run so I can keep in shape and eat what I want, but I’d love to find something I actually like to do. Maggie’s gotten into rock climbing, mostly indoors, but she loves it. I’m not sure that’s for me, but there has to be something I can find that will burn calories and be more fun than running.”
“I can think of a few enjoyable ways to burn calories.” Max wiggled his brows.
I laughed. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
“You did. But in all seriousness, that’s right up my alley. I’m always game to try new workouts. I’ll tell you something, but you can’t laugh.”
“What?”
“There’s one of those aerial yoga places on my block—the kind where people hang from what looks like sheets suspended from the ceiling. I secretly think about trying it whenever I see them doing it in the window.”
“So why don’t you?”
Max shrugged. “Because I’ll probably make a fool of myself. I’m strong, but I’m not the most limber guy. Plus, all I’d need is for the guys on my team to get wind of it. I’d never live it down. One of the players has a daughter who takes mommy-and-me ballet classes. His wife got the flu right before a dress rehearsal for their recital. Yuri filled in for his wife so his daughter could practice being on stage. Some pictures got leaked, and the entire team came in dressed in tutus the following Monday, including me. We’re a bunch of ball-busting assholes. To this day, Yuri Volkov is nicknamed Twinkle Toes.”
I laughed. “I guess Pretty Boy is better than Twinkle Toes.”
Over the next few hours, we polished off the bottle of wine and shared a dessert. Max was signing the credit card slip when my phone vibrated in my purse. I’d missed a call from Maggie, but I also noticed a few texts from her, so I swiped to make sure everything was okay.
The first one must have been sent a few minutes before I arrived at seven.
Maggie: Just making sure you didn’t back out.
An hour later, another one came in.
Maggie: You better be enjoying yourself on your date and not just ignoring me while watching some dumb, old black-and-white movie and eating a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey.
Maggie: Mmmm…now I really want Chunky Monkey. Thanks a lot.
The next text read:
Maggie: Okay, now I’m starting to get worried. It’s been almost three hours and no response. The only time you don’t check your phone for that long is when you’re sleeping. You better not be sleeping. I had such high hopes for tonight! Should I be worried? What if Mr. Hot Skates turned out to be an axe murderer and you’re lying with your head chopped off somewhere? That would suck. For me. I don’t want to make a new friend. So text me and let me know you still have a pulse when you read this.
The last text had come in ten minutes ago.
Maggie: Earth to Georgia…come in, girl.
“Shoot,” I mumbled.
“Everything okay?” Max asked.
“Yeah. I just need to text Maggie back. She was checking on me, and I didn’t respond right away, so she started to get worried.” I shook my head. “I had no idea we’d been sitting here for almost three-and-a-half hours. It’s rare that I don’t check my phone for that long.”
Max smiled. “That’s good. You said you wanted to disconnect more.”
“Yeah. I guess that will take a while for some people to get used to.”
I shot off a text to Maggie, letting her know I was fine and still on my date with Max.
She responded ten seconds after I pressed send.
Maggie: Oh good! Climb that man like a tree.
I smiled and tossed my phone into my purse.
“Whatever she said, you should listen to her.”
I hadn’t thought he could see my screen. “What makes you say that?”
He pointed to my mouth. “Your smile had a dirty edge to it when you read that last text.”
I laughed. “You’re very perceptive, and my best friend has a dirty mind.”
“I knew I liked her. You ready to get out of here?”
“Sure.”
Max stood and offered his hand to help me up. He didn’t let go once I was standing. Instead, he maneuvered my hand behind my back, and used it to draw me close. “I’m not ready for the night to be over. But I have to stop back at my apartment to let the boys out. I was running late and came here straight from the shoot. We could hang out there, or I could just walk them quick, and we could go somewhere for a drink. Whatever you want. Just don’t leave me yet.”
I was definitely not ready for the night to be over, either, and I’d spent enough time with Max to be comfortable going to his apartment. So I nodded. “I’m good with your apartment. I just…would still like to take it slow.”
He kissed my forehead. “Understood. I’ll be a perfect gentleman until you’re ready. Then all bets are off.”
• • •
If I’d had any doubts that Max was lying about the dogs needing to go out in order to lure me up to his place, that thought was put to rest the minute the elevator doors opened—directly into his apartment. The moment we stepped off, Four bolted into the waiting car. And the bigger dog, who I assumed had to be Fred, kept running in circles right outside of it.
“You want to wait here?” Max looked at my shoes. “Those don’t seem like they’re made for dog walking. And I have to do once around the block or they’ll be maniacs all night. I won’t be more than fifteen minutes.” He walked to a round table in the entryway and opened a drawer, pulling out two leashes.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll snoop if you leave me here all alone?”
Max smiled. “Have at it. I keep the whips and chains in the drawer next to my bed, if you want to check them out.”
He was kidding. Wasn’t he?
Max chuckled. He leaned down and brushed his lips with mine, then spoke against them. “I’m kidding. But you’re welcome to look around. I don’t mind. Make yourself at home.”
“Thank you.”
After the doors slid closed behind Max and the dogs, I turned around to check out the apartment. A few steps down from the marble entryway was a ginormous living room.
“Holy crap,” I mumbled as I walked in. I didn’t live in a typical, small New York apartment, yet my entire place could fit in this living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows acted as artwork, showcasing the city illuminated outside. I headed to check out the view first. Max lived on West 57th, so in front of me was the twinkling city, but to the left was the river. It was a clear night, and a full moon glittered a straight path across the water. Absolutely stunning. I could’ve stayed here all evening staring, but I tore myself away so I could sneak a peek at the rest of the place before Max got back. Of course I wanted to snoop a bit.
The living room was open to the kitchen, which was equipped with state-of-the-art appliances, a built-in coffeemaker, and a glass-front wine refrigerator. On the opposite side of the room, a long hall opened to a few doors, including a large bathroom and an office. At the very end was the master bedroom. I flicked on the light and found a beautiful, masculine, carved-wood bed elevated on a platform to take full advantage of yet another wall of windows—this time with a view of Central Park. I stood at the edg
e of the doorway, not wanting to invade his privacy, even though he’d invited me to look. But I did note a stack of books on his nightstand. All in all, his apartment was nothing like I’d expected. It had a mature vibe, not the bachelor pad I’d envisioned.
When Max returned, I was back in the living room enjoying the view. The dogs ran right to their water bowls while he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, dropping a kiss on my shoulder. “Did you check out my nightstand to make sure there weren’t any whips?”
I turned around in his arms and ran my fingers through his hair. “Who says I’m not into that? Maybe I’m disappointed I didn’t find any.”
Max’s eyes sparkled. “Then I guess you didn’t look in my closet.”
My eyes widened, and he chuckled. “I’m kidding.”
Four and Fred finished their drinks and came to sit at our feet. Four nuzzled his wet face against my bare leg, like a cat.
“They weren’t interested in me when we walked in, so I didn’t get to say hello.” I bent down and lifted Four, scratching the top of his head with my nails while using my other hand to pet Fred. “Hi, Fred. I’m Georgia. It’s nice to meet you.”
Fred leaned in and licked my cheek. I laughed. “Ah, I see you take after your father with the ladies.”
Max smiled. “What can I get you to drink?”
“I’ll take a glass of wine, if you’re having one.”
While Max opened a bottle, I spent a little time with the dogs. After he poured two glasses, he tossed a ball down the hall, and Fred took off running.
I stood with Four in my arms. “Boy, and here I thought I was winning him over. All it takes is a ball and he loses interest.”
I walked into the kitchen, and Max held out his arms. “Come on, puffball, you too. It’s my turn.” He set Four on the floor and bribed him with a biscuit before passing me wine.
“I’m glad I didn’t walk them with you.” I lifted my foot into a flamingo stance and rubbed at my toes. “The strap on this shoe has a sharp edge and feels like it’s trying to cut into my toe.”
Max set down his wine and took mine from my hand, placing it on the counter. “Let me take them off for you.” He gripped my waist and lifted me up onto the kitchen counter, then raised my foot and unbuckled the strap to my sandal. “These are sexy as shit. But I’d rather you be comfortable here.”
I really loved watching him take my shoes off for some reason. It was a sweet gesture, but perhaps also a prelude to him removing other articles of clothing sometime in the near future.
I took a deep breath to focus. “Your apartment is nothing like I thought it would be.”
“No? What did you expect?”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure. You’re an athlete, so I guess a big-screen TV and maybe a room with a workbench and exercise equipment. I think I was expecting more of a bachelor pad.”
Max lifted the foot he’d freed from the angry buckle and kissed the red welt running across the top before going to work on the other. “Two years ago you would’ve been right. I had an apartment in Chelsea that was basically a nicer version of a frat house. Two other players lived in the building, and if I didn’t answer my door, they would knock it down. I had to replace the front door four times.”
I laughed. “What made you make the change?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I grew up. I wanted to be able to come home and relax. I play hard all day long. Coming home to a place that was peaceful became important. Though…I do still have the big-screen TV. Stay put. I’ll show you.”
He finished taking off my other shoe and walked into the living room to grab the remote. As he pressed a button, the wall of windows started to disappear as a large shade slid down. Once it finished, Max pushed another button, and a panel I hadn’t noticed in the living room ceiling opened, and a projector dropped down.
“It’s a blackout shade and projection screen in one,” he said. “It’s eighteen feet long. It feels like you’re in the game when I watch on this thing.”
“Wow.” I laughed. “Now that’s more like I thought.”
Max walked back over to where I was still sitting on the counter. He nudged open my knees and stood between them. “There’s a gym in the building, so I got rid of my spare room full of weights, and I have a cleaning lady who stocks the fridge and keeps the place from looking like a bachelor pad. So you weren’t wrong; I just hide it better in my old age.”
With the blackout shades down, the room had gotten dark. The only light came from the entryway, making the moment feel more intimate. Max swept hair from my shoulder and leaned in to kiss my neck.
“Is this okay?” he whispered.
I nodded.
He ran his nose from my chin down to my collarbone, then sucked his way back up with a groan. “You smell so fucking good. We better go sit in the living room before I get myself in trouble.”
I really wanted to stay right here with his lips on my skin, but considering I was the one who’d told him I wanted to go slow, it didn’t seem fair to do that. So I nodded, and Max lifted me from the counter and set me back on my feet. He held my hand and guided me to the couch, where he tossed a throw pillow against one end and gestured for me to sit with my back against it. When I did, he lifted my legs and set my feet on his lap, then began to rub the sole of my foot with his thumbs.
My eyes almost rolled back in my head. “Oh my God. That feels so good.”
“Between all the physical therapists and massage therapists who have worked on me over the years, I might’ve picked up a thing or two.”
He worked his knuckles into the ball of my foot, and I let my head loll back for a few minutes.
When I opened my eyes, Max was watching me. “What?”
He shook his head. “I just like seeing your face when you’re relaxed.”
“You might want to take a picture. Rumor has it that doesn’t happen very often.”
“We’ll fix that this summer. I’ll make sure of it.”
I smiled.
“So this taking-it-slow thing. How slow are we talking?”
I laughed. “Are you asking because you want to push right up against whatever line I draw?”
He grinned. “What if we pretend we’re in ninth grade, studying in your bedroom with the door open because your mom is downstairs?”
I snorted. “What does that even mean?”
“It means I get to make out with you and cop a quick feel, but I can’t push it too far because your mom is right in the other room.”
“I don’t think our ninth-grade experiences were exactly the same.”
Max crooked his finger. “Come here.”
“Where?”
He patted his lap. “Right here. It involves dry humping, too.”
It was absolutely impossible to resist this man’s grin. So when he held out his hand, I took it and followed his lead to straddle his lap.
He smiled. “Scooch your ass up a little.”
I did and felt a prominent bulge press between my legs.
Max closed his eyes. “Oh yeah. Much better.”
“You’re crazy.”
He held one finger to his lips. “Shhh. Your mom might hear.”
For the next half hour, we sat on the couch and made out like two horny teenagers. At one point, he began to move my hips back and forth over what had become a full-fledged erection. I was so worked up, and the friction felt so good, I started to worry I might come, so I pulled back the reins.
Max groaned. “Did you hear Mom coming?”
“No, but I thought I might…you know.”
He raised a brow. “Would that have been so terrible?”
“I’m just trying to play fair.”
“Don’t worry about fair with me. Just take what you want. We won’t be keeping score.”
Things stayed calmer after that. Probably because I shifted off of his lap and was no longer grinding on his dick. We talked for a long time, never having an uncomfortable lull in t
he conversation. Eventually, I said I needed to get going. Max called an Uber and insisted on walking me down and making eye contact with the driver. But he stopped short of threatening harm if he didn’t see me home safely.
Max opened the car door and kissed my forehead. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“And don’t forget to send me your list.”
“List?”
“The things you’ve been putting off that you want to do this summer.”
“Oh, that’s right. I’ll send it to you, but then you should add some things, too.”
He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “No problem. But my list of what I want to do this summer is short—just you.”
CHAPTER 11
* * *
Max
Three days after our date, Georgia finally texted me the list of things she wanted to do this summer. Most of it was stuff she’d talked about:
Unplug more
Be more spontaneous
Red hair
Volunteer
Watch the sunrise from the Highline
Go to an after-hours club
Stay out all night
Take a staycation and see the landmarks I’ve never seen
Leave work by five every day
Take two full weeks of vacation
Then there were a few we hadn’t discussed:
Get over my fear of public speaking
Join 23andMe and learn about my ancestors
The fear of public speaking one surprised me. But everything else was pretty much what I’d expected. Rather than text back, I hit Call.
Georgia answered on the first ring.
“So when do we get to start?”
“Boy, you sound anxious,” she chided. “You must be dying to see the Statue of Liberty.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what it is.”
“I don’t know. I guess we can start whenever.”
“Okay. A week from today then. This week is crazy, but my last game is Saturday afternoon, and then I’m a free man. Can you take off?”
