A corner of her mouth curls into a reluctant smile.
“Here’s to a new start,” I say.
She clinks her glass with mine, then downs the entire champagne in one long swig.
I pour her more before continuing with my clumsy attempt at consolation. “Could’ve been worse. You could’ve found out what kind of man he wasaftermarriage.”
“Or after I gotpregnant.” She shudders, then chugs half the glass.
“Exactly. Besides, it’s not much of a loss. He doesn’t seem to have much going for him.” I place the chocolate in her lap. “Here. Have some.”
She looks down, then gives me a wan smile that reaches into my chest and squeezes something vital and helpless inside me. “Thanks. You thought of everything.”
I clear my throat. “Came with the champagne.”
She takes a small bite of the dark truffle and washes it down with her sparkling wine. “You know what’s really weird, though? When he said I take too long, my first reaction was ‘Is it me?’”
I shake my head, wishing Slick were here right now so I could punch him. If Max were mine, she’d never doubt how hot she was. Even with slightly red eyes and sagging shoulders, she’s gorgeous. “Don’t waste emotion on a man who was never worthy. Write him off.”
“He’s probably getting laid right now.” She glares at nothing in particular, probably imagining the scene.Why does she torture herself like this?
I pop another truffle into her mouth to distract her.
“I thought he was the best I could do,” she says quietly.
“What?” I stare at her—from the vulnerability lurking in her green eyes, to the soft trembling of her lips, to those cute freckles peeking out from under the makeup she must’ve smudged against the pillow. “Max,you’rethe besthecould ever aspire to, and he fucked it up.”
She frowns at me for a bit. “Is that a compliment?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” Her forehead relaxes. “Well…still. My life goals are ruined.”
I laugh at her dramatic tone. “You aren’t even thirty.”
“Butwhy?” she moans, obviously not paying attention. “I’ve been so careful.”
“Goals don’t always work out.”
“No. They don’t.” She shakes her head. “All my effort…” Her eyes darken with determination and something else.
A feeling of danger—or a warning—crackles in the air between us. My gut says I’m standing on a precipice, about to fall.Be careful.
Tension winds around me. I reach for the chocolate, and so does she.
Our fingers brush. An electric jolt shoots through me. I manage to pull away without looking like I’m avoiding her touch. Awareness flares in her eyes as she takes another piece and bites into it.
My mouth dries. I sip the champagne, my eyes tracing her wet lips. She pushes her empty flute at me, and I pour her another and raise my gaze. Her eyes on mine, she finishes it in one go, albeit slower this time. Her throat works as she swallows, and an abrupt urge to press my lips to her neck rips through me.
I clear my throat. “More?”
She considers for a moment, then shifts and stretches past me to place her flute next to the champagne on the nightstand. This close, her soft, feminine scent teases, heating my blood. Her leg glides over me as she braces herself over me, the gesture arousing all my senses until every nerve ending in my body prickles with anticipation.
I look up at her, taking in the soft flush of her cheek and the deep pools of her eyes. A small tendril escapes her bun, fallingdown on her face. I reach out slowly, then curl the silky strand around my finger. Her eyes follow, her breathing shallow.
I let the hair unfurl and tuck it behind her ear. My fingertips trace the gentle curve of her earlobe. Heat flickers in her eyes and a sizzling charge runs between us. Something solidifies on her face and then she slowly pulls my glasses off my nose and drops them in the empty glass.
My heartbeat picks up. I can’t look away. She cradles my face firmly, the touch a searing shock. Her mouth gently descends over mine.
