Anddefinitelynot with Max.
He blinked. His mouth opened, then shut. No sound. Nothing. Not one damn word. Just a low, soft grunt that told me everything I needed to know.
I could see the red blush forming under his skin as the color crept up his neck. His fingers curled against the table like he needed something to hold onto. His jaw flexed, and his knee bounced hard under the table, like his whole body was wound too tight, and the only thing that would cure the ache was me.
“Christ,” he muttered, almost a growl. His voice was thick with heat. “You’re gonna make it real hard to finish breakfast.”
10
MAX
Iwas going to combust. Right there in that stupid vinyl booth, in the middle of a half-dead diner with peeling wallpaper and sticky syrup bottles. The universe had planned the worst possible stage for my downfall.
One second, she was talking about milkshakes, and the next, my brain was busy undressing her, flipping through a highlight reel of every way I wanted her. I had already thought about it all night and all goddamn morning.
Maybe I just haven’t decided what I want to do with you yet.
What the fuck was I supposed to do with that? How did I fucking respond to that?
My jaw locked. My fingers flexed against the table like I could crush the wood if I just squeezed hard enough. I needed a stress ball because she was giving me high blood pressure. Tension coiled low in my stomach, hot and mean, like a fuse waiting for a spark. My knee bounced like I was sixteen again, not a guy two months shy of nineteen who was supposed to have a handle on himself.
The problem was, I didn’t want to control myself. I didn’t want to play the good guy. Ever since that kiss, I was losing it. Iwanted her. Every look. Every touch. Every laugh that ended with her shoulder brushing mine made me feel like I was drowning. And she had no fucking clue.
“Something wrong?” she asked sweetly, batting her lashes like she wasn’t about to dismantle me, piece by piece.
I gripped the table’s edge like it could ground me. Holding onto something was good for me. It kept me from flying straight out of my body.
“You’re dangerous,” I said, because it was either that or groan her name across the damn diner.
She smiled. “You know, I was thinking of giving you that nickname.”
Yep, I was about to groan.
She licked her lips. “You kind of like it, right?”
Like? Like?!
No, no, I was addicted. I was trying to be a good boy. But she was fucking flirting with me, and I wanted to bend her over this table and make her feel how addicted I was.
“I love danger,” I quipped back, smirking.
“Good, because I’m just getting started.”
“Careful,” I warned, “I don’t like being messed with.”
I’d let her mess with me, though, only her.
She tilted her head, smiled, and then decided to go full nuclear.
“Yeah? Then what are you going to do about it, sweet boy?”
My elbow slid off the table, and I nearly cracked my skull like an idiot. She couldn’t be serious.
She twirled a loose piece of hair around her finger. She was serious. Drop dead, crazy in the head, serious. I mean, damn, she could pick up the knife off the table right now and carve my heart out, and I’d let her feed it to me on a platter.
I let out a low laugh and leaned closer to her.
“Oh, baby…” The word slipped out before I could stop it. “Keep teasing me, and we won’t make it to the tattoo shop.”
