Chapter 10
Ten
Flynn
I don’t wait five minutes when Max gets up and leaves the dining room. I’m out of my seat and following behind her within thirty seconds, and when I get to the second floor, I see her unlocking her bedroom door. She glances over to see me approaching, offers me a small nod, and steps inside, leaving the door open behind her.
“Hey,” I say softly when I step inside to find her waiting.
“Close the door,” she says, and I can’t stop my heartrate from speeding up at the thought of us being alone in her bedroom.
Clenching my teeth, I force the feeling of excitement away. No chance did she invite me here for something romantic. But if that’s true, then why am I here ?
“I have a proposition for you,” she says, shifting her weight from foot to foot as I walk closer.
“A proposition?”
“Yes. I wanted to talk to you about maybe working together as an alliance, of sorts.”
“Like on those competition reality shows?” I ask, one corner of my mouth shooting upward.
“Exactly,” she says, humor lighting up her amber eyes.
We used to watch shows like that together…with Milo, of course. Survivor. Big Brother. The Amazing Race. Max was always big into analyzing alliances and predicting if they’d make it to the end together, or not.
“If we work together and watch each other’s backs, we can be the last two standing in this thing. I know we can,” she goes on.
“Okay,” I say, my voice quiet as my mind churns with the possible ramifications of doing this.
For one, we could finally put the past and that night behind us. Even though I may not see her again after this week, it would be nice to have the weight of anger and disappointment lifted from my shoulders. And I wouldn’t have to live in dread of possibly seeing her when I get together with Milo. We could be…pleasant acquaintances. Maybe even friends.
Looking back up at her, I see hope etched into her expression. Nodding, I repeat, “Okay.”
“Great,” she says. “Let’s start with today’s interviews. I think if Barnard asks us our opinions on the other writers, we should be complimentary. We don’t want to look bitter or vindictive, and it would make us look unprofessional if we put down another person’s work. But if he asks me about you, or you about me…”
“We should be a little extra complimentary,” I finish for her, and she grins.
“Exactly.”
I honestly couldn’t come up with a single negative thing to say about Max’s abilities as a writer if I wanted to. She’s amazing at what she does.
“In the interest of watching each other’s backs,” I say, my mind going back to that little scene at the table earlier, “I feel like I should warn you about Lars Klein.”
“Oh, you mean that he’s a misogynistic man-whore?” she asks without missing a beat. “Yeah. I read his book, and he’s not exactly subtle.”
“I ran into him last night on the veranda, and he said you were hot and wondered if you might need a good ‘dicking,’” I say, flinching on that last word.
Max’s eyebrows shoot up as she says on a laugh, “Wow.”
My mouth curves upward, and we stand there smiling at each other for several beats. It feels like old times.
Shaking myself out of the trancelike state, I say, “Well, I should go.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
I turn to leave, then spin back, asking, “Hey, so, what are your plans for the rest of the morning?”
She seems a bit startled by the question, then lets out a chuckle. “Oh, I think I’m going to go hang out by the pool. Catch some rays and maybe overhear some conversations. ”
“Eavesdrop, you mean,” I accuse playfully, and she shoots me a devilish grin.
“Why, I would never,” she says in a dramatic southern belle accent, making me laugh.
“Mind if I join you?” I ask before my brain catches up with my mouth, and her smile drops.
Shit. Smooth, asshole. Real smooth.
“That would be great,” she says, surprising me.
And herself, too, I think.
“Meet you in the hall in fifteen?” she goes on before either of us can backtrack.
“Sounds like a plan,” I say.
I give her one last smile and head for the door. I look back to see her still watching me as I pull it open and step out. I hold the smile as I close it, then take a deep breath before heading into my own room next door, my mind reeling.
Could this be a new start for us? Do I want it to be?
I’ve been angry for far too long. And I miss the easy friendship we shared before that night. My body tenses at the thought. I can still feel her lips on mine, and though I would never admit it out loud, I really want to feel them again.
Of course, that can and will never happen, so I try to put the thought out of my mind. Friends is good. We still have a long way to go to get there, but it will be worth the work.
Pulling open a dresser drawer, I pull out my board shorts and an old t-shirt with the sleeves cut out. Undressing quickly, I tug on the pool attire and grab a towel from the bathroom before checking the time on my phone.
I still have ten minutes to kill before meeting Max, so I sit on the edge of my bed to text Milo.
Me: So, big news. Max and I talked, and we kind of cleared the air. We’re going to go hang by the pool together this morning. I think we might be able to fix our friendship.
I send the text, and a second later, I get the “read” receipt. I wait for Milo to text back, watching as the little dots appear and disappear several times. When his reply finally comes through, it’s a simple thumbs-up emoji.
My brow wrinkles as I try to analyze that response. As freaked out as Milo sounded last night that we were in the same place together, a simple emoji seems…anticlimactic. I’d geared myself up to dispute any warnings or negativity he may send my way, and now that he hasn’t said a word, literally, I feel a bit deflated. Disappointed, almost, which is ridiculous.
I hear Max’s door open and click shut, and all thoughts of Milo disappear. Hopping up, I shove my phone into my pocket and rush to the door on light feet. Pausing to take a calming breath, I open the door and step out into the hall as casually as possible. As I pull the door closed behind me, I look over to see Max and freeze.
Only my eyes move as I take her in. She’s wearing a black bikini with nothing but a lace sarong tied around her hips. Black sandals complete the outfit, and I have to swallow quickly before the saliva pooling in my mouth dribbles out.
Holy shit. She looks amazing .
“You ready?” she asks, when I just stand there, rooted to the spot.
“Oh, yeah,” I say, snapping out of the paralysis and locking my door behind me.
She lifts her hand, and I notice the wide-brimmed sunhat she’s clutching for the first time. She plops it on her head and waits for me to join her before turning to head toward the stairs. Her fragrance wafts in my direction as we walk silently, a familiar blend of fresh scents that takes me back to the night she straddled my lap and kissed me.
My dick twitches, and I do everything in my power to tame the damn thing.
God, is this a mistake?
And if it is, do I even care?