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Set to Love

Page 92

by Tomi Tabb

Max

That’s my stubborn tennis player.

Katie

At least one of us is having a good day. How’s the last day of your workshop going?

Max

So far, so good. There are some new killer dance combinations we’re working on this morning.

Katie

Killer good? Or killer bad?

Max

Good. The choreographer has done a cracking job with the show. Every sequence is intense, but I’m loving it.

That brings a smile to my face. At least one of us is having a good day.

Katie

You can show me the new stuff on Sunday.

Max

About that . . .

I wait for his reply, watching the three gray typing dots appear, vanish, and reappear at the bottom of the screen.

Max

It sounds like we’ll be wrapping up a little early today.

Max

Would you like to grab dinner tonight? I can pick something up and bring it to your place. Or we can meet somewhere central. I wasn’t sure if you’d be up for more walking.

The tension in my neck, coiled tight since Drew started the stopwatch at 7:03 a.m., loosens.

Katie

As long as you don’t mind the smell of muscle rub and the sight of me in my sweatpants, you’re welcome to come over to my humble abode.

Max

I was thinking Thai food, but if you’re craving something else, let me know and I’ll pick it up.

Katie

Thai’s perfect.

Max

Done. Text me your address when you can and I’ll see you tonight.

Knowing I have dinner with Max is the only thing that gets me through my second hitting session and a lifting circuit. By the time I crawl back to my flat, I don’t just need an ice pack—I need a whole walk-in freezer. Since I don’t have one of those, I stop at the corner shop and clear out their frozen-veggies section because they’re cheaper than ice. Go figure.