“Things were left… unfinished,” I say, irritated.
His eyes light up.
I release a huff. “Max—”
“Were you thinking about me, Gemma?” he asks, his voice dangerously low.
I’m determined not to let him see how much he affects me. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
He leans in. “You really are a terrible liar.”
“And you’re unbearable.”
His eyebrows lift. “Unbearable? Is that why you’re flushed? Why your chest is red and the pulse in your…” He reaches to brush a finger against my neck, and my breath hitches. “Right here, is fluttering? Because I’munbearable?”
I swallow hard, fighting the rush his touch sends through me. This close, I can see the flecks of darker blue in his eyes, the slight stubble along his jaw that would be rough against my skin.
“Anna already lost a friend because of you. I have no interest in jeopardizing our friendship,” I say.
“That was different. Nicole and I were just two twenty-somethings having fun, it was never a serious relationship. I chose to move to the States for further study. Nicole took it badly because I didn’t ask her to join me, so she made Anna pay for it. You and I are nothing like that situation, Clarke,” he says.
I grind my teeth together, fighting the urge to give in.
“Will it be easier for you to admit that you want me if I tell you I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind?”
His admission hangs in the silence. This thing between us defies all logic and sensible boundaries. I’ve never had a man challenge me the way Max does, and honestly, it’s thrilling. But I don’t know what to do with it.
“We work together. You’re Anna’s brother,” I whisper, but my words lack conviction.
“Is that why you said no at Ruby Lounge?” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear, softly trailing his fingertipsdown the side of my throat. “Or is it because you knew if you stayed, we wouldn’t have been able to stop?”
His words hit me like a physical blow. I feel defenseless. My body reacts as if it’s been waiting for his touch—as if he’s a drug I’m already addicted to. Anna’s face flashes in my mind, and a cloud of guilt forms over me for entertaining any thoughts of Max.
“This isn’t appropriate,” I say, glancing around, as if an excuse to leave will materialize, but I’m rooted to the spot.
“Very little about what I want to do to you is appropriate, Gemma.”
Christ. The way he says my name—like he’s tasting it—tightens my stomach.
I should move away. I should leave. I should do anything except sit here and drown in his eyes, because right now, I’m imagining exactly what those inappropriate things might be.
“When I look at you, I have one thing on my mind. And I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve tried to control myself when it comes to you, but I can’t. And I don’t think I can fight it anymore,” he says.
I’m not sure I can hold out much longer either.
“So, tell me, Gemma. Have. You. Thought. About. Me?”
I exhale a long breath. “Fine. If it’ll make you stop, yes. I have thought about you.”
A Cheshire cat smile stretches across his perfect face. He knows he’s won.
“I suppose the question now, smart-arse, is what do you propose we do about it?” I ask.
“Come home with me.”
Four words. Fourteen letters. That’s all it takes for MaxFuckingBrowne to eviscerate my resolve.
Chapter Twenty
