He might not even be home,Bo realized.He might have heard you come in and gone out. For all you know he did join the local gym to use their showers, which makes him both richer and far more sensible than you.
Or maybe he’d gone somewhere else entirely. A whisky or piano bar. Somewhere brooding men with messy hair, oddly mesmerizing eyes and unresolved family trauma went to recharge. Quietly, Bo tiptoed towards the kitchen, and the sliding doors which promised freedom from both this awkwardness and the cold floor under her still-bare feet. She’d just reached the doors, her fingers on the handle, when a voice spoke out from behind her.
“What on earth are you doing?” Max asked, and Bo felt both her stomach sink and heart quicken.
She turned, finding Max leaning against the fridge, watching her with curious eyes. He was drinking a cup of tea, his glassesperched on his nose, hair in his eyes, and oh God, it was awful, why was he wearing chino shorts? And oh God, worse, why did she find them so unbearably sexy on him?
“Oh, I just, umm, had a shower. Hope you don’t mind,” she stammered, and Max looked at her quizzically.
“Yeah, I figured. I heard the water running from down here. I didn’t mean that though. I meant, why are you walking on tiptoes through the place looking furtive and mysterious like a terry-clothed Mata Hari?”
“No reason.” She must have answered a beat too quickly, because Max frowned at her.
“Are you trying to avoid me?” he asked bluntly, and she flushed, heat and colour stealing to her face. “That pink to your cheeks is a ‘yes’,” Max decided. “Why are you trying to avoid me?”
If anything, Bo blushed harder. “No reason.”
“Please don’t be vague with me. I’m not good with vague. I prefer the hard truth.”
“Well,” Bo began, swallowing hard. “I, umm, guess I thought things might be awkward between us.”
“Awkward? Why?”
“Well, because of our talk yesterday,” she answered.
“Okay.” Max seemed to think for a moment. “We talked a lot yesterday. Which conversation in particular bothered you?”
Bo chewed on her lip. “It didn’t bother me, not as such.”
“You’re trying to avoid me today, so clearly it did,” Max pointed out, and Bo had to admit he had her there. “Be honest with me; which conversation yesterday made you think things between us might be awkward?”
She took a deep breath. “The one about sex.”
Max stared at her for a moment before putting down his tea, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. “Bo,” he said slowly, “at no point yesterday did either one of us mentionsex.”
“Well, no,” Bo conceded. “Not out loud.”
Max crossed his arms over his chest. “Explain what you mean by that.”
“Do I really need to?”
“Yes. Eton prepared me for many things, but not this conversation, sadly.”
Bo blinked. “You went to Eton?”
“Not the time. Explain what you meant. About sex.”
Bo bit on her bottom lip. “Well, yesterday, you said you, umm,lost yourselfin other things after performing. You meant sex.”
Now it was Max’s turn to blink. “Bo . . .”
“You meant sex,” Bo said again, more firmly now, and she watched as Max took a step towards her.
“Yeah,” he finally conceded, his voice soft. “I did.”
“So, you can see why I thought things might be awkward between us today.”
“There’s no reason for you to feel awkward,” Max replied. “I didn’t reference you at all in that conversation.”
