“So,” he said again, his voice a bit more in control this time, “a master’s in organic chemistry. Does that mean you’ll be creating new foods, like mashed-potato-flavored soda and veggies that taste like Doritos?”
Lana laughed. “Unfortunately, while I could do that with an organic chemistry degree, it’s not the particular discipline I’m involved with.”
“No cool nacho cheese–flavored green beans then?”
She shook her head. “Sorry. My background is in pharmaceutical R&D. I’ll be developing new medications and drug-testing protocols.”
He nodded. “That’s pretty cool, too. I mean, if you can’t put mashed potatoes in a bottle, saving lives is a good backup plan.”
“I know. I was bummed, too.” She smiled. “But we can’t all make snack-flavored veggies for a living.”
“Too bad. More kids would eat their vegetables if they tasted like Doritos,” he pointed out. “Hell, the vending machine possibilities alone are staggering.”
As they ate, they discussed the best veggie-chip combinations for a while, with Max suggesting he might even try the vegetarian lifestyle if someone could make broccoli taste like Fritos.
By the time Max had polished off his entire pizza, they’d talked about her classes at the university, the long nights studying in her apartment, the stress of wanting to get good grades for both herself and her parents. He listened to all of it, asking serious questions and showing more interest in her college experience than any guy she’d ever talked to, and that included the guys she’d dated at the university. She’d be the first to admit that organic chemistry wasn’t exactly thrilling to anyone other than another organic chemistry major, but Max seemed to be genuinely interested.
“You could study for three days straight without sleep?” he asked, apparently impressed. “Seriously?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I don’t seem to need as much sleep as other people. After seeing me pull all-nighters for the whole five years we went to school together, my roommate, Denise, is convinced I must be from another planet.”
He frowned. “You lived with the same roommate the entire time you were in school? You two must be really good friends.”
She nodded as she sipped her iced tea. “We are. Normally, roomies start to get on each other’s nerves at some point, but Denise is an organic chemistry major who came in the same semester I did. We hit it off right away, so when we were lucky enough to get into off-campus housing together, we jumped at the chance. I don’t think either of us would have done as well in school if we hadn’t had each other to lean on.”
Lana set down her glass, then looked longingly at her empty plate. She should have ordered three slices instead of two. She was still hungry. Max must have seen the way she was gazing unhappily at her plate, because he laughed and asked if she wanted dessert.
“I smelled some killer cheesecake when we walked in.”
She laughed, marveling at him and his super-sniffer as she considered dessert. “I probably shouldn’t.”
He regarded her thoughtfully. “I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but you don’t strike me as someone who’s prone to putting on weight.”
Lana opened her mouth to tell him that was only because she worked out so much, but then decided simply to be honest. “I’m not. In fact, I weigh the same thing I did in high school, and I hardly ever work out. It drives Denise crazy. I can eat anything I want and never gain a pound. She stands too close to a bowl of ice cream and has to go straight to the gym.”
Max smiled. “It’s probably in your DNA. Fast metabolism, you know?”
She pushed back her plate and rested her forearms on the table, returning his smile. “Any chance that you have a fast metabolism like that, too?”
He nodded, his grin broadening. “As a matter of fact, I do. So, how about that cheesecake?”
“Definitely,” she said with a laugh as he caught their server’s eye.
After the cheesecake showed up, Lana decided they’d done enough talking about her. It was time to find out a little about this amazing guy across the table from her.
“Now that you know everything there is to know about me,” she said, licking cheesecake off her fork with a little show of tongue simply because she liked Max watching her do it, “let’s talk about you.”
His smile wilted a little, much to her disappointment. “My life isn’t nearly as interesting as yours. Definitely nothing worth talking about.”
“That’s silly,” she scolded. “I bet you have a lot of fascinating stuff to talk about. I mean, for starters, did you grow up in a cop family here in Dallas?”
Max didn’t say anything, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure he’d heard her. Instead, he focused on his slice of cheesecake, like he was more interested in that than her. Finally, he looked up and gave another smile—only this time, it lacked humor.
“No, I didn’t grow up in Texas. I was born in Las Vegas and lived there until I was eighteen,” he said quietly. “My family was…well, let’s just say it was about as far as you can get from a cop family. To put things in proper perspective, if one or two events in my life had gone slightly different, you’d be sitting at the table with a guy who works at a Gas-and-Go.”
With his looks, confidence, and knee-weakening charm, Lana had a hard time believing Max could ever be anything but amazing. “But growing up in Vegas must have been cool, with all the lights and excitement?”
Max shook his head, though, turning his attention back to his cheesecake, taking a small bite. “I didn’t grow up on that side of Vegas.” He lifted his head to look at her again. “I lived in what you might call the projects—the low-rent housing section of North Vegas.”
