When I was finally allowed to go, I looked at my mobile phone. It was just after midnight.
I hadn’t been in the hospital long, but I felt so exhausted. I couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel, have a shower, and go to bed.
The cab ride didn't take long. Max was checking his phone, which gave me a chance to look at him properly. The silly Christmas sweater didn’t do anything to make him any less attractive.
He had light blond hair that was slightly shorter on the sides and left longer on top. I could see his chest and arm muscles straining the wool of the sweater, and holy fuck, the man had nice forearms.
The lines of muscles flexed slightly as he tapped his fingers lightly on his leg. His hands looked strong but soft with long sinewy fingers that seemed as though they were made to do something that required precision, such as playing the piano or performing surgery.
My eyes were still fixed on his hands when he cleared his throat, which made me look up at him, my face heating. He had a smile on his face, almost a smirk, and suddenly I felt like he was privy to something I wasn’t.
“Dorian told me you’re leaving New York the day after tomorrow,” he said, his brown eyes shining bright with mischief.
“Ye…” I croaked, realizing my voice wasn’t back yet. I pulled my phone from my pocket, typed on the notes app, and handed the phone to Max.
Yes, I’m going home. Thank you for saving me last night and staying with me in the hospital. I don’t know how serious the fire was, but I feel like I owe you my life.
He risked his life to come back for me, and I didn’t know how to thank him.
All I knew was that in less than twelve hours, I’d become an uncle and escaped death. In just over twenty-four, I would be leaving New York to go back to Portugal.
“I saw you leave the room. I had to make sure you weren’t left behind. Anyone would have done the same.” Max played it down, but I’d make sure to thank him.
Can I buy you breakfast to thank you?I never had a chance to find out about the work you do for the center,I typed. Of course, spending a bit longer with him would probably fuel my forearm fantasies for months.
“You can do better.” He grinned.
“Oh?” My answer came out as a whisper.
“Spend tomorrow with me.”
My smile answered for me as much as my blush. I was sure of that.
