The light from above Max shined directly onto his face, making his eyes appear brighter—the same eyes that trailed the length of my body. He didn’t look too happy.
I realized now that I wasn’t wearing my usual makeup and dress. This time, it was my rumpled shorts—which rode halfway up my ass—and a tank top that made boob-slips easy.
Poor guy.
His jaw hardened. “You ...” he began with a nervous huff. “You’re not dressed.” He looked for as long as he could before pulling his gaze away from me.
“Well, no. It’s six in the morning,” I stated, matter-of-fact. “I just woke up.”
He looked at his watch. “It’s eight-thirty.”
“That’s still too early.”
He lifted his hand and ran it down his face in disbelief. Then he looked at Johnny, who was looking at me. If anyone knew Max, they’d know not to look at me at all.
“Would you like to keep your sight, Johnny?”
Johnny looked away.
Figures.
Max scratched his head, returning his gaze to me. He couldn’t seem to go ten seconds without looking at me. That, of course, made me smile—a tiny, smug little thing.
“Rosalie,” he urged, “if you could get dressed so I can look at you while I speak, that would be great.”
Max took the opportunity to scan the room, his gaze lingering on the new shower curtain I’d desperately needed and the blinds I’d wrestled with for an afternoon, cursing left and right as I struggled to put them on the wall. Anyway, I’d done it. Sure, Max was overreacting, and he was often overbearing, but I couldn’t help but listen to his worries.
“I will once I’ve had my coffee,” I muttered, taking a sip. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” I asked, referring to the security.
“No.” His eyes drifted, and I watched his jaw clench before he cleared his throat. “Not if you keep your door unlocked.”
“How long will this take?” I asked, blowing against the surface of my coffee. I liked the smell and the taste, but it did little to calm my patience.
“However long it takes,” he said.
My eyes rolled. I hated his vague answers.
“Are you in a rush?” He narrowed his eyes.
“I have a lunch at noon, so hopefully, you’ll be done by then.”
“A lunch?” he asked. “Who’ll be joining you?”
He was nosy. Insufferably nosy. Jealous too, if I had to guess. It was a tiny crack in that oh-so-serious,stoicfaçade of his.
Truth was, I was going to lunch with a woman named Alex. She often forgot about our lunches, which always made it a gamble, but this was for her birthday. She was a Leo. She was also seventy-two years old. For obvious reasons, we weren’t romantic, but Max didn’t need to know that.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I said, smiling coyly. I liked to tease him.
“Yeah, I would,” he admitted.
My cheeks heated beneath his gaze. I didn’t expect such a direct answer. The man wanted to know everything about me, but he never shared anything about himself.
“Alex,” I said.
“Alex,” he mocked. “Who is Alex?”
“The person I’m meeting for lunch,” I said mischievously.
