“That you’re better at Ping-Pong than you are at dominoes?”
“Hey!” I push out of my chair, pointing an unpolished nail at him. “That’s not fair. I’d never played before, and I’m pretty sure that TK was sabotaging me!”
Last summer, TK had a barbecue, and some might say I was a bit of a sore loser when he tried to teach me to play dominoes. I’m not proud of it, but it happened.
“Whoa there, killer.” He raises his hands in surrender.
“Sorry.” I sit back down. “I’m a little competitive.”
“You don’t say.” His voice—and body—shakes with laughter.
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes and look to the computer that I still haven’t turned on. I click my mouse and type “Aceisthegreatest” into the password field. Ace obviously was here the day my new computer was delivered, and I couldn’t say no to him. I did however draw the line at “#Wheresthelie.” It was just too long, and who uses hashtags anymore? “What I was going to say”—I glance at him as the files open on my screen—“was that you have a brother you never told me about!” There’s a little too much pep in my voice and my smile feels too large.
In fact, I’m working so hard at looking unbothered that I nearly miss the instant change in Maxwell. His back shoots straight up and his hands ball into fists on his thighs.
“Did you google me?” he asks, trying—and failing—to joke.
“Um, no.” I choose my words carefully. “He came in last night right before I closed.”
“You’re talking about Theo, right?” he asks.
“Yeah, tall, matching eyes, police officer?” I tick off, leaving out that he’s not quite as good looking as the Lewis brother who’s in front of me, practically vibrating with something I’m not sure I understand.
“Did he say where he’s staying?”
I shake my head. “No, he just said he’d come back soon if he didn’t hear from you.”
“Fuck.” Maxwell scrubs his hand over his face. “Listen, if he comes back, call me.”
“Okay . . .” I drag out the word.
“No, Brynn.” He stands and walks around the desk until he’s standing over me. “I mean it. Do not talk to him. Do not engage. If you see him, call me and get away from him.”
My eyebrows furrow, and fear snakes down my spine. “You’re freaking me out.”
He places his hands on my armrests. “I don’t trust my brother, so being freaked isn’t a bad thing.”
“I mean, he’s a cop though,” I say, mainly trying to make myself feel better. “He can’t be that bad, Max.”
“That little bit of power makes it easier for him to be the worst kind of person. And, Brynn.” He’s so close that I see his jaw twitch and every emotion fighting for dominance across his flawless face. “You call me Maxwell.”
And then I don’t see what emotion wins because his lips are on mine and my eyes close as the world around me explodes.
I have kissed a lot of guys—and I mean a lot of guys—but I have never, not ever, had a kiss like this.
Admittedly, most of the kissing I have done in my life was me rushing them to get to the meat of the event or sloppy and in a bar as I bid farewell to my acquaintance of the night.
So I’m not one hundred percent sure whether my mind is being blown to smithereens because I’m kissing a man whom I actually care about—I have heard that actually liking the person you’re kissing can make a difference—or because of his skillful, full, soft lips.
Maybe both.
Because holy shit. His mouth is perfection. The way he gradually increases pressure, not trying to thrust his tongue into my mouth. How he tugs my bottom lip with his teeth, then lets go and closes his mouth over mine again. I’m not in charge of my body anymore. My hands move to the back of his head of their own accord, pulling him closer to me, wanting everything he’s willing to give me. His hands trace the outline of my body, gliding over the small curve of my waist, one hand slipping beneath my T-shirt, his rough, calloused hands a stark contrast to the silky pillows that are his lips.
I open my mouth, sliding my tongue into his mouth, but that’s as far as I get before he takes over, setting the tempo, the rhythm of this sensual dance.
My skin is supercharged, sensitive enough that even the slight breeze from the heater sets my skin on fire, the loose strands of hair against my neck cause shivers to race down my spine, and the feel of Maxwell’s hands against my back makes me wonder if it’s physically possible to orgasm from kissing and gentle caressing alone.
The way my stomach tightens and my thighs clench together leads me to believe that not only is it possible, it’s probable.
“Poppy texted me to come take over and—oh! Sorry!” My dad bursts into my office, effectively extinguishing any and all embers of lust floating around the room. “I . . . um . . . hey, Max.” He nods to Maxwell, not leaving like I assume most normal people would do in this situation.
“Mr. Sterling.” Maxwell straightens, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Um, sorry about that.”
Sorry!
“Don’t be sorry.” My dad waves him off. “You two are adults, don’t mind me.”
“It’s hard not to mind you when you’re still standing here, Dad.” I push to my feet, grabbing Maxwell’s arm and tugging him past my cock-blocking dad. “We’re going to play Ping-Pong now.”
I don’t wave to Abby or Paisley or anybody as I stomp to the front door, yanking Maxwell along with me.
Screw Ping-Pong. I’d much rather try my hand at tonsil hockey.
Twenty-one
Death.
I feel like death has come for me. I am going to die all alone in my empty apartment with pictures of strangers still in my frames.
Ping-Pong was—begrudgingly—a really good time. I had a bad attitude at the beginning but once we split into women versus the men and made full-on brackets, my competitive side couldn’t help but be all the way in.
We ordered a disgusting amount of food. I drank drinks with far too much sugar content, and I laughed as the professional athletes got their asses so handed to them that Shawn actually threw a tantrum and left.
When it was all over, I almost gave in and went to my dad’s, but after the earlier events of the night, I didn’t want to deal with his questions.
If only I had the emotional maturity of an actual adult woman, I would’ve dealt with the minor discomfort of discussing my love life with my dad and moved on. Then I wouldn’t be in my apartment, facing death all alone.