Oh my God, shut up.
He flexes his fingers around my waist. "What do you imagine they're good at?"
My cheeks burn. "Oh mygawd. Stop it."
He grins at me. "So why don't I see you around the District much?"
I try not to get sucked into the vortex of his eyes. "I'm busy."
"Busy doing what?"
"Dancing. That's kinda all I do."
"That's good. Did you take the Panadol?" His voice is even and authoritarian.
I blink at him as we float together. "Um, yes, thanks, and sorry about the whole passing out thing."
"That made my night."
My cheeks feel a pinch as I fight back a giggle. "Care to fill me in on before that?
He leans in a little closer. "Which part?"
"Um, the part where... Well, any part that involved you and me? I don’t remember talking to you much."
"You told me to stop being so hot." His lips part and his white teeth show. "It's the cutest thing I've ever heard."
"Ah..." I stammer. "Your level of, like, self-love, is like, so over-the-top."
"Like, is it?"
"Yes." I nod and lose the fight with my mouth and just let a goofy grin show. "I would have never said that...to your face."
He grins, his lips set in an amused and mischievous curve. "Really?"
"Yes, really."
The corner of his mouth draws out further until his dimple is on display. "So, you don’t think I'm, 'Oh my gawd you're too hot, just stop it' kind of hot?"
Frick.
I pull my arms from his shoulders and shield my face. "Oh no, Max. Go away. I did say that, didn't I?"
"Like I said." His hands move from my waist down to cup my backside and he pulls me into him. My chest touches his, my nipples growing so hard they hurt. "Just helping you stay afloat, Little One," he claims with a smirk.
I drape my arms over his shoulders again even though my heart is racing and my breathing becomes something I have to concentrate on. His eyes move around my face and down my neck as his fingers draw little circles on each of my cheeks. I suppress a moan, and he grins even further when my eyes slowly start to close.
I'm not a fricking asexual pigeon...
"You have a serious girl boner for me, hey?" Max laughs.
My eyes fly open and I glare at him. "Oh, stop it, Max. You're being a jerk."
"Iama jerk," he declares, his tone brazenly unapologetic.
"No, you're not. A jerk doesn't put Panadol out for a girl. A jerk doesn't carry a girl to her room and not even try to sleep with her."
His eyebrows are level and he fixes me with a stare. "You were unconscious. That's not a jerk; that’s a rapist. You keep saying shit like that and it's gonna worry me."
