“I can think of a few enjoyable ways to burn calories.” Max wiggled his brows.
I laughed. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
“You did. But in all seriousness, that’s right up my alley. I’m always game to try new workouts. I’ll tell you something, but you can’t laugh.”
“What?”
“There’s one of those aerial yoga places on my block—the kind where people hang from what looks like sheets suspended from the ceiling. I secretly think about trying it whenever I see them doing it in the window.”
“So why don’t you?”
Max shrugged. “Because I’ll probably make a fool of myself. I’m strong, but I’m not the most limber guy. Plus, all I’d need is for the guys on my team to get wind of it. I’d never live it down. One of the players has a daughter who takes mommy-and-me ballet classes. His wife got the flu right before a dress rehearsal for their recital. Yuri filled in for his wife so his daughter could practice being on stage. Some pictures got leaked, and the entire team came in dressed in tutus the following Monday, including me. We’re a bunch of ball-busting assholes. To this day, Yuri Volkov is nicknamed Twinkle Toes.”
I laughed. “I guess Pretty Boy is better than Twinkle Toes.”
Over the next few hours, we polished off the bottle of wine and shared a dessert. Max was signing the credit card slip when my phone vibrated in my purse. I’d missed a call from Maggie, but I also noticed a few texts from her, so I swiped to make sure everything was okay.
The first one must have been sent a few minutes before I arrived at seven.
Maggie: Just making sure you didn’t back out.
An hour later, another one came in.
Maggie: You better be enjoying yourself on your date and not just ignoring me while watching some dumb, old black-and-white movie and eating a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey.
Maggie: Mmmm…now I really want Chunky Monkey. Thanks a lot.
The next text read:
Maggie: Okay, now I’m starting to get worried. It’s been almost three hours and no response. The only time you don’t check your phone for that long is when you’re sleeping. You better not be sleeping. I had such high hopes for tonight! Should I be worried? What if Mr. Hot Skates turned out to be an axe murderer and you’re lying with your head chopped off somewhere? That would suck. For me. I don’t want to make a new friend. So text me and let me know you still have a pulse when you read this.
The last text had come in ten minutes ago.
Maggie: Earth to Georgia…come in, girl.
“Shoot,” I mumbled.
“Everything okay?” Max asked.
“Yeah. I just need to text Maggie back. She was checking on me, and I didn’t respond right away, so she started to get worried.” I shook my head. “I had no idea we’d been sitting here for almost three-and-a-half hours. It’s rare that I don’t check my phone for that long.”
Max smiled. “That’s good. You said you wanted to disconnect more.”
“Yeah. I guess that will take a while for some people to get used to.”
I shot off a text to Maggie, letting her know I was fine and still on my date with Max.
She responded ten seconds after I pressed send.
Maggie: Oh good! Climb that man like a tree.
I smiled and tossed my phone into my purse.
“Whatever she said, you should listen to her.”
I hadn’t thought he could see my screen. “What makes you say that?”
He pointed to my mouth. “Your smile had a dirty edge to it when you read that last text.”
I laughed. “You’re very perceptive, and my best friend has a dirty mind.”
“I knew I liked her. You ready to get out of here?”
“Sure.”
Max stood and offered his hand to help me up. He didn’t let go once I was standing. Instead, he maneuvered my hand behind my back, and used it to draw me close. “I’m not ready for the night to be over. But I have to stop back at my apartment to let the boys out. I was running late and came here straight from the shoot. We could hang out there, or I could just walk them quick, and we could go somewhere for a drink. Whatever you want. Just don’t leave me yet.”
I was definitely not ready for the night to be over, either, and I’d spent enough time with Max to be comfortable going to his apartment. So I nodded. “I’m good with your apartment. I just…would still like to take it slow.”
He kissed my forehead. “Understood. I’ll be a perfect gentleman until you’re ready. Then all bets are off.”
• • •
If I’d had any doubts that Max was lying about the dogs needing to go out in order to lure me up to his place, that thought was put to rest the minute the elevator doors opened—directly into his apartment. The moment we stepped off, Four bolted into the waiting car. And the bigger dog, who I assumed had to be Fred, kept running in circles right outside of it.
“You want to wait here?” Max looked at my shoes. “Those don’t seem like they’re made for dog walking. And I have to do once around the block or they’ll be maniacs all night. I won’t be more than fifteen minutes.” He walked to a round table in the entryway and opened a drawer, pulling out two leashes.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll snoop if you leave me here all alone?”
Max smiled. “Have at it. I keep the whips and chains in the drawer next to my bed, if you want to check them out.”
He was kidding. Wasn’t he?
Max chuckled. He leaned down and brushed his lips with mine, then spoke against them. “I’m kidding. But you’re welcome to look around. I don’t mind. Make yourself at home.”
“Thank you.”
After the doors slid closed behind Max and the dogs, I turned around to check out the apartment. A few steps down from the marble entryway was a ginormous living room.
“Holy crap,” I mumbled as I walked in. I didn’t live in a typical, small New York apartment, yet my entire place could fit in this living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows acted as artwork, showcasing the city illuminated outside. I headed to check out the view first. Max lived on West 57th, so in front of me was the twinkling city, but to the left was the river. It was a clear night, and a full moon glittered a straight path across the water. Absolutely stunning. I could’ve stayed here all evening staring, but I tore myself away so I could sneak a peek at the rest of the place before Max got back. Of course I wanted to snoop a bit.
The living room was open to the kitchen, which was equipped with state-of-the-art appliances, a built-in coffeemaker, and a glass-front wine refrigerator. On the opposite side of the room, a long hall opened to a few doors, including a large bathroom and an office. At the very end was the master bedroom. I flicked on the light and found a beautiful, masculine, carved-wood bed elevated on a platform to take full advantage of yet another wall of windows—this time with a view of Central Park. I stood at the edge of the doorway, not wanting to invade his privacy, even though he’d invited me to look. But I did note a stack of books on his nightstand. All in all, his apartment was nothing like I’d expected. It had a mature vibe, not the bachelor pad I’d envisioned.