“What color do you dye your hair?” Connor asked, trying to soundas casual as possible.
“It’s calledBad Boy Blue.” Max smiled wryly. “I didn’tpick it for the name.”
“I could see you on a motorbike with a leather jacket,” Connorsaid. “Could be a good look.”
Max blushed, looking down at his coffee. “Yeah, well. I just likethe color, and it goes over my natural hair without needing to bleach first.”
“You’re a natural blond, huh?” Connor asked, smiling at thethought.
“All over.” Max smirked.
Connor tried not to picture anywhere else Max might have hair.
He immediately failed, licking his lips automatically at thethought. Max was probablygorgeousnaked, even if that was somethingConnor was never likely to find out.
“Well, it’s a good color on you. I was thinking we should re-dyeyour roots before the photographer comes.”
Max looked up at him. “I, uh… I’m not… sure…” he said, scratchingthe back of his neck.
“It could be fun. I’ll pick up the dye later, and you could comeover tonight and I’ll do it for you,” Connor offered.
Max shifted in his chair. “I… guess that’d be okay,” he said.
Connor smiled warmly at him, thrilled that Max had agreed. “Good.I’ll even throw in dinner to seal the deal. You’re not working tonight, areyou?”
“No, uh, I don’t work Monday nights. It’s not busy enough to needan extra pair of hands.”
“Then I’ll see you… whenever you wanna come over, I guess?”
“Maybe around six?” Max asked. “I wanna go home first, make sureZoe doesn’t need anything.”
“Of course,” Connor said, his heart sinking at the thought thatMax had so much on his mind. “Six works. I’ll be in all night, so don’t worryif you’re late. And you have my address, it’s on the envelope.”
Max opened his mouth to respond, but a customer came through thedoor before he could say whatever he’d been about to. He stood, heading for thecounter to serve Rusty, another regular Connor had sort of gotten to know.
“Six,” he said on his way over. “I’ll be there.”
Connor smiled to himself, excited about the prospect of getting tospend a little extra time with Max.
Chapter Eight
A knot of nerves sat heavy in Max’s stomach as he stood in frontof the door to Connor’s apartment. He didn’t really have anyreasontobe nervous, exactly, but Connor was…
A little intimidating.
Not intentionally. He was one of the nicest people Max had evermet, and he’d been nothing but kind, but Max had never been alone with himbefore, and he wanted Connor to keep liking him.
That was what was making him nervous. The thought that maybeConnor wouldn’t like him so much when they were alone scared him, especiallysince he was relying on the guy now.
Maybe that was stupid, but he was stuck with the feeling anyway.
He took a deep breath and knocked, tugging on the hem of hist-shirt and fighting the urge to run his hand through his still-damp hair.
Connor opened the door faster than Max had expected him to. He wasdressed down to sweatpants and a t-shirt, both of which looked a littlerumpled, his hair sticking up at odd angles.
“Did I wake you?” Max asked, frowning. He was only five minuteslate.
“I uh…” Connor scratched the back of his neck, stepping away fromthe door to give Max space to go inside. “Might’ve had an impromptu nap. I’mglad you turned up, or it would’ve turned into one of those naps that leavesyou even more exhausted than you started out.”
