“What’s the worst one?” The question escaped before I could rein it in. I couldn’t help but look away from his stare. I’d never felt someone’s eyes burn into mine the way Max’s did. They gazed over my body, not missing a single inch of me. I felt judged and admired at the same time—a feeling I couldn’t possibly know how to decipher. It was the exact feeling that twisted my stomach.
Max didn’t respond—at least not with words. Instead he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a cigarette and his lighter. He held the cigarette between his fingers, the lighter’sflame sparking to life with a soft flick. I watched as he took a slow drag.
The smell of tobacco drifted toward me. Normally, the scent of cigarettes would make my nose wrinkle or my stomach churn. It was a smell that clung to clothes and hair, making it impossible to escape.
But here, with him, it was different—different in a way I couldn’t explain, even to myself. Somehow, I didn’t mind it. It suited him. I found myself liking the smell even as I tried to pretend otherwise.
In the distance, I saw Sean holding his key up in the air—a silent signal he was ready to take me home whenever I gave him the word. Max noticed. He lifted his hand to my elbow, tightening his grip reluctantly before leaving my side.
He never answered my question.
CHAPTER 13
MAX
It was Friday.
Poker night.
I tapped my index fingers against the worn green felt, feeling it catch slightly on the calluses I’d built up over the months.Four men sat across from me. Most were Liam’s men I knew by face, not by name. They sat hunched over the table, with eyes darting from their cards to each other.
Then the door creaked open, letting a sliver of light in.
“Hi,” came a soft voice.
I froze. I knew that voice all too well. It was the one I couldn’t escape no matter how hard I tried.
All eyes turned to the door except mine. I didn’t need to look to know Rosalie was standing there. But that didn’t stop me from doing so anyway.
“Is everything all right?” Liam asked.
She lifted her hand absently, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. I caught sight of her nails. They were painted a shade darker than last time, now a deep burgundy. I liked them.
“Yeah. Daisy needed Sean’s help with a bunny in the yard.”
“A bunny?”
Rosalie shrugged. “Something about its leg,” she explained, her brow furrowing slightly in concern. “Anyway, Daisy got Sean involved, and he asked me to sub for him.”
Liam’s scowl deepened. He sighed. “Of course, of course. Take a seat next to Max. We were just about to start.”
There was a lump in my throat.These tests ...I was doomed to fail.
Much to my dismay, Rosalie strode up behind me, pulling out the chair directly beside mine. Liam started to ramble on and on about things that no longer mattered to me now his daughter was here.
“Hi, Max,” she whispered as she sat down in the chair. I could hardly hear her over the men surrounding us. They were loud. It must be an Irish thing.
I took in a deep breath. I let it out. “Hi ... Rosalie,” I murmured.
Her cheeks went pink.
Cute.
I could smell her perfume—the one that smelled like cherries. It drove me crazy.
Her slim fingers rested on the arm of the chair. Her rings were gold, a few with red gems. Her attention drifted from my eyes, then to the cigarette placed between my fingers. Her eyes rolled. Of course.
Then she did something that shocked me. She moved her arm on top of mine, which was on my chair, and took the cigarette between her fingers. Rosalie hated smoking. I’d heard her rant about it more than once. Yet here she was, taking a drag frommycigarette with her full, perfectly lined red lips wrapped around the bud like she didn’t give a damn.
