CHAPTER EIGHT
I didn’t mind Vella interrupting us at all. Three minutes ago I would have told her to scram, but now that I knew Max pitied me? I wanted nothing more than to make my escape.
“Vella, this is Max. He’s from Monterra. Max, this is Vella. My best friend and roommate.”
“The one who made her come out tonight. I’m grateful that you did.” He gave her a heart-stopping smile and I saw the effect it had on her.
Despite her protestations that we weren’t attracted to the same kind of guy, Vella melted when he shook her hand.
Of course in the moment when I needed her to be strong, she was just as whipped as the rest of us. I’d never seen her with that goofy-looking expression on her face. She was going to start twirling the ends of her hair in a minute.
“Hi,” she said, drawing out the I in a long exhale. “So nice to meet you. You’re from Monterra? How long have you been in New York?”
He answered her questions, and all I could think about was that he’d come over here because he’d seen me cry. My ears started to ring as I was crushed by the memory of one of the worst things that had happened to me in high school. My mom’s best friend was the mother of the most popular boy in school, and without my knowledge, she forced him to ask me to the spring formal our senior year.
My mother and I weren’t well off, and I was stuck with a dress that didn’t fit me very well and shoes that were way too tight. I’d had hopes of feeling like a princess, but instead I was dressed up like an ugly stepsister.
My so-called date didn’t say a word to me during our drive to the school and then ditched me entirely once we got to the dance. It was humiliating, knowing he and his friends were making fun of me while I stood there in a too-short dress, feeling gangly and awkward, my shoulders hunched forward in an attempt to make myself smaller. I’d had to call a rideshare to get back home.
And Max’s confession that he’d only approached me because he’d felt sorry for me was making me feel like that gawky teenage girl all over again.
Someone else approached the table, and it was Otis. I scowled at him, but he didn’t take any notice of me. He kissed Vella on the cheek and said, “I’ll meet you outside, babe.”
Why did she let him call her that? She hated that kind of thing.
“Be right there,” she said, and then directed her words at me. “I’m leaving with Otis. Will you be okay getting home by yourself?”
“Really? Otis?”
“He’s hot and I’m bored. You can do the math,” she said. “See you later.”
She walked off before I could object further, and my phone beeped. I looked down to see a message from her.
I’m taking your coat. Borrow Max the Monterran’s and have him take you home. The apartment will be empty! Or you can go back to his place and let him warm you up.
She added an emoji with suggestive eyebrows and some other explicit symbols that I couldn’t think about because Max was sure to notice my embarrassment.
Did she not realize that there was no possibility of either one of her suggestions happening? Not to mention that she had officially abandoned me to freeze to death—she and I had walked here and I didn’t currently have enough money in my checking account to pay for an Uber.
Now that I knew Vella was gone, it was like this built-in security to keep me in line and behaving had disappeared. With her here, I wasn’t going to do something like make out with a random stranger, because she would have teased me endlessly about it.
But with her leaving ... all bets were off.
Which made me a danger to myself.
“I should probably get going,” I said to Max, alarmed at the direction of my thoughts.
“Really?” I couldn’t read his reaction. Was he disappointed that I was leaving? Or relieved, glad that his duty of keeping an eye on the crying girl was over? It was hard to tell. He added, “No one’s here to watch you, so it’s time to duck out?”
That, and I was concerned that despite how pathetic I currently felt, I still wanted to ravage his mouth or else spontaneously combust because he was sitting next to me. There was no in-between that I could see, so staying was not an option. “Something like that.”
“You strike me as the kind of kid who stayed put in her seat if the teacher left the classroom.”
“Guilty. I’ve always been a big rule follower.”
“That’s too bad,” he said in a low, raspy voice, and all of my desire to leave instantly evaporated as his words made me desperately regret all of my life choices up to this point.
If I were bolder, more sure of myself, maybe I would have made a move and I wouldn’t care about why he’d come over. It was what Vella would have done. But despite how I might look on the outside, I was still that teenage girl who’d been abandoned at the dance.
Time to get back to real life. “I should head out. Thanks for everything. I really appreciate all your help.”
“Any time.”
I packed up my notebook, put it away, and slid my purse onto my arm. I was trapped in place, a sleeping Basta on my left and Max on my right.
“Oh, right,” he said. “Sorry. Let me get out of your way.”
He scooted along the bench and stood up. I gave Basta one final pet and then scooched over to the end of the booth.
Max offered me his hand just as I was about to stand up, and I had a serious internal debate as to what I should do. Take it one final time to experience that delicious electricity again? Or be strong, ignore his hand, and leave with some of my dignity intact?
I opted for the weaker option and let him assist me even though I didn’t need it. The surging warmth and tingling sensations were there, just as sharp and strong as they had been the first time.
“You’re really tall,” he said.
“Am I? I never noticed.” I let my hand fall. What I did notice was the fact that he was a good two inches taller than me, and I had heels on.
That made him even yummier.
“I’m guessing people say that to you a lot,” Max said with a smile.
“Pretty much every time I get up from behind a desk or a table.”
We stood there and I felt so awkward and didn’t know what to do with my hands. I clasped them in front of me. “Well, I’m going to go pay for my drink.”
He had put his hands into his front pockets. “It was very nice to have met you, Everly Aprile.”
“And you, Max Colby.”
“If you have any other questions about Monterra, you should text me.”
He was just being nice, I told my lady bits. Someone had raised him to be a gentleman. I hadn’t encountered a lot of his peculiar species since moving to the city, so I needed to be sure not to read too much into it. “Sure. Good night.”
Despite everything, I’d had fun. I was glad for that, at least. I went over to the bar and waved my hand for the bartender. He was busy mixing a drink and flirting with the cute redhead he was creating it for.
This might take a while. I wondered if Max was still here or if he’d left. I wished I’d thought to bring cash with me—then I could have just left some money on the table and made a dignified exit.
I refused to turn around and check, though. I was going to keep some of my pride tonight.
“How are you?”
A man on my right was slumped against the bar, obviously drunk. He wore an expensive suit that was going to cost an arm and a leg to dry-clean when he inevitably vomited all over it. I realized that he was addressing his question to me.
My creep radar immediately went off. It was one thing to try to see the good in people—it was another entirely to be a lamb walking into a lion’s den.
I might have been nice and optimistic, but I wasn’t stupid.
I ignored him.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he slurred with his thick British accent.
“No, thanks.” I didn’t make eye contact with him.
“Come on, just one pint.” Alcohol fumes radiated off him. “My name’s TC. What’s yours?”
If Vella were here, she’d use some colorful language as her response, but I didn’t want to engage him. I leaned against the bar, trying to see if I could catch the bartender’s attention. He was still busy.
I looked behind me, wondering if I could find my waitress. Or any waitress.
“Oi, I asked you a question. You’re being very rude.”
“I was just leaving,” I said, worried about escalating the situation with this very inebriated and possibly unstable person.
“I’m here from England. I work on Wall Street. I have a lot of money.”
A finance guy being gross? What a shock. “I’ll bet your mom is very proud.” I had a slight hint of some of Vella’s sarcasm in it, but I figured he was too drunk to tell.
“If you want to get out of here, you can come home with me. You’re not really pretty enough to date, but if you want to shag, I’m game.”
A sickly taste entered my mouth and my heart started to beat erratically. “No, thank you. I’m not interested.”
“What, do you think you’re too good for me? You’re not. You’re lucky I’m willing to lower my standards.”
Adrenaline coursed through me and I reached into my bag, ready to get my pepper spray. But then I felt an arm going around my shoulders, and even though I shouldn’t have, I instantly relaxed.
It was Max, and it was like my body knew it was him before my brain registered it.
“Are you ready to go, la mia lei? I paid for the drinks.” He was holding on to Basta with his free hand and she let out a low growl, staring at TC.
“Yes, I’m ready. Let’s go home.”
“Why didn’t you say you had a boyfriend, you stupid cow?” TC called behind us, and Max’s arm tightened slightly around me.
Max kept his arm around me until we reached the coat check. I was trembling slightly and didn’t know if it was because I was coming down from the rush of adrenaline from being afraid that TC guy was going to hurt me, or because Max was touching me.
Maybe both.
“Are you all right?” he asked, and I realized it was the third time he’d done so that evening. I felt silly that he had to keep coming to my rescue.
“I’m fine.”
“Do you have your ticket for your coat? I can grab it for you.” He handed over his own ticket, and the checker returned quickly with his black coat. Max put it on.
“Vella stole it because she was cold.” I didn’t tell him the part about her suggesting I go back to his place to warm up.
“You should borrow mine.”
“Oh, I can’t do that.”
“I insist,” he said, taking it off and handing it to me. “I’m wearing a sweater and you’re ...”
His voice trailed off, and was it my imagination or had Max just given me a thorough once-over? And was that an appreciative gleam in his eyes, as if he liked what he saw?
It was then that I realized I hadn’t even paid attention to what he was wearing, as I’d been so fixated on his gorgeous face all night. He had on jeans, casual shoes, and a light blue sweater that I was willing to bet was probably the exact same shade as his eyes.
He could have sat down next to me naked earlier and I probably wouldn’t have noticed.
Okay, that was a lie. If he’d sat down next to me naked, I wouldn’t have wasted my time looking at his face.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, and I snapped out of my not-safe-for-work thoughts to take his coat. “Do you have a car coming?”
“No, I was going to walk.”
His eyes narrowed at me and he said, “Is it okay if Basta and I walk you home? I don’t want you to walk home by yourself when ...” He gestured toward the bar, where TC was in a loud fight with the bartender and probably about to get thrown out. I shivered at the possibility of having to walk home with him following me.
“Yes,” I said gratefully. I slid his coat on, and it smelled like Max. I wondered if it would be weird if I sniffed it. It was too big for me, but I liked having it on.
Definitely sad. I really needed to fix my life.
He went to the door and shoved it open for me, and it creaked loudly again. Basta surged out onto the street, but with a couple of words in Italian, she relaxed and stopped straining against her leash.
“I would have enjoyed punching that man in the face,” he said as we went outside.
“Me too.”
“I was more concerned with getting you out of there.”
His concern was touching and it was nice to feel protected and safe. Given his broad shoulders and the big biceps visible through his sleeves, I was pretty sure Max could have destroyed that TC guy if he’d wanted to.
“Which way?” he asked. I pointed south and we started walking in that direction. I noticed when Max moved positions so that he was closest to the curb. Most women probably wouldn’t have picked up on a detail like that, but my meemaw had told me once that it was a sign of a good guy—one who put himself between you and potential danger.
And it was the second instance where Max had been protective in the short time I’d known him.
“You don’t have to walk me home,” I said after we’d walked for a bit in silence while Basta sniffed every available surface. I thought I should give him an out. He had done his princely duties for the evening and could go home. There were plenty of people out and about. I would be safe.
But I found myself holding my breath, waiting for his response. I realized that I wanted him to stay with me and was actually worried about what he might say.
He came to a stop and considered my words before responding, “I know I don’t have to walk you. I want to.”
I tried pressing my lips together and couldn’t help but smile at his words. I wondered if being gallant like this was a Monterran thing. Even if he was one of those guys whose moms had taught him to be chivalrous and polite and that was the only reason he was still hanging around me, I would take it. I wanted the opportunity to spend more time with him.
Obviously I wasn’t ever going to see him again after tonight, so I realized I should probably enjoy it while I could.
“Shall we?” he asked, and he offered me his arm.
It was so old-fashioned and romantic that I had to swallow back the nervous but excited lump in my throat. “We shall.”