Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
In the morning, Lana waited until Max had left the apartment. Then she snuck out of her room and into the kitchen. She felt bad about avoiding him. But she wasn’t ready to face him yet after last night.
She’d skipped dinner, and she was starving. She opened the fridge, happy to see the lasagna pan there with foil over the top.
Then she noticed the half-full coffee pot, still heated. And the note.
L,
I hope you slept well. There’s coffee, plus chocolate muffins in the pantry, which I think Aurora said once were your favorite? I’ll be in the gym if you need to find me.
M
Well, that was perfectly friendly. If she didn’t remember every agonizing detail of their conversation last night—and that explosive kiss—she might’ve thought everything was normal between them.
She was still shocked she’d said it. That she didn’t want him. Because obviously, that was an out-and-out lie. She wanted Max more than ever. Her whole body ached with wanting. But her confusion had only grown.
Everything she’d thought was true about their “fling” had gotten flipped on its head. All this time, he’d wanted more. He hadn’t been able to forget about those nights any more than she had.
Max felt something for her. It was a huge relief to know that, the kind of relief that could’ve made her younger self cry tears of joy.
And at first, that small glimmer of emotion from him had seemed like enough.
He’d kissed her, and she’d melted right into his arms. The chemistry between them hadn’t abated one bit.
How many times had she fantasized about that exact scene playing out? Max saying he still wanted her, essentially throwing himself at her feet?
But then she’d stopped herself just in time, before potentially making a far bigger mistake than losing her virginity to a guy who didn’t care.
For one, Wayfair was going to ask Max about their relationship again during his cross-examination at trial. She didn’t need that awkwardness or the distraction from her case.
But far worse? She’d been about to have sex with a man she was in love with. She had no clue if his feelings for her were anywhere near that deep. She didn’t even know if he wanted a relationship.
And when she’d tried to get clarity, he’d offered her nothing of the kind. Because Max didn’t know how he really felt.
He was willing to go against his made-up “rule” about three nights. Yeah. She hadn’t quite unpacked that baggage. But setting aside the absurdity of his “rule” in the first place, it was clearly a big step for him to break free of it.
As his friend, she admired that he was taking a chance. Going after something he’d been afraid of before.
But as a grown woman who might get her heart broken in the process? She wasn’t a teenager, blinded by lust anymore. She had to be more careful. She wasn’t willing to be his test case.
Max had said, over and over, that she deserved better than him. Well, she was listening. And maybe he was right.
She cut a piece of lasagna and ate it cold. She closed her eyes and moaned at the flavor. A perfect balance of acid, creaminess, and richness. Damn, the man was a good cook. So perhaps that was one stroke in his favor.
After breakfast, she changed into some gym clothes, determined to at least go talk to him. If not to sort out all their issues, then at least to show there were no hard feelings. His note had been a gesture, a peace offering. The least she could do was extend her hand right back.
But she didn’t know where the gym was.
Lana took the elevator downstairs to the main floor. She stepped out into a bustling space. She said hello to the people she knew, making a beeline for the far corner, where Sylvie had set up her alcove of computer screens.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Sylvie gave her a hug. “How’s the trial? It must be intense. I haven’t even seen you since it started.”
“A first-degree murder trial is always demanding. And a cold case can be really tough, since a lot of the witnesses are no longer around. But I’m feeling good about it. Fingers crossed.” She held them up, making the gesture.
“That’s great news. And speaking of news, I may have a lead on that burner phone the calls to you came from.
I put out feelers on the serial number and got a hit.
The phone is tied to a big seizure of property made by federal agents in downtown Los Angeles.
I’m hoping to get more information on that soon.
With luck, we might be able to put together some kind of chain of ownership for the phone.
Or at least, get us a few degrees closer to the guy who’s using it now. ”
“Excellent. Let me know.”
Lana was so grateful for the effort Sylvie was making on her behalf. But between the Hearst case and Max, she’d been too busy to devote much brain power to the stalker. Thank goodness for that. If the guy fell off the face of the earth and she never heard from him again, so much the better.
“Have you seen Max this morning?” Lana asked. “I think he said he was going to the gym.”
Sylvie nodded. “That would make sense. He’s been spending a lot of time in there lately.
I always know when he’s stressed because he starts training like an Olympic athlete.
He’s got a computer down there so he can keep up with work and run at the same time.
He used to have a treadmill desk up in his office, but it drove us all crazy with the pounding on the ceiling. ”
Lana smiled at Sylvie’s description. “What’s he like to work for, anyway?”
“Max? He’s a great boss, usually. When he can keep things balanced. He’s always reminding us of the importance of our work, and he takes care of his employees. I’ve had plenty of bosses who didn’t do that.”
“Same here, during summers in law school. It stinks.”
“That’s an understatement. But Max isn’t always the best at taking care of himself.
” Sylvie had lowered her voice to a murmur, glancing around to make sure none of her coworkers were close enough to hear.
“I’m only saying that because I know you’re close to him.
For heaven’s sake, convince the man to take a vacation. If only for my sanity.”
“I don’t think I have that much pull with him. But I’ll see what I can do.”
Sylvie told her how to find the gym, and Lana headed down to the lower level.
Max was working on the punching bag when she walked into the room. He didn’t notice her at first. She just watched his back muscles moving beneath his T-shirt. The prominent shape of his triceps.
She was struck with longing. If anything, the man was even more gorgeous than he’d been in his twenties. Why did he have to be so enticing?
He noticed her and turned. The bag kept swinging. But he didn’t say a word. Max’s tongue darted out, licking a bead of sweat as it trickled past his chin. His shirt had patches of dark wetness under the arms and at his chest.
He lifted the thin fabric of his shirt to wipe his face, and oh holy—his stomach was a broad expanse of smooth skin, a thin trail of dark hair, and flexed muscle. Not quite as lean as his army days, but somehow even sexier. Manlier.
When his tee dropped back down, he met her gaze with undisguised desire in his eyes. She struggled not to react.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey.”
He walked over to a bench, unwrapping the fabric from his knuckles. “You got some breakfast?”
“I did. And coffee, thank you.”
“Sleep well?”
“Yep. You?”
“Better than I have in a long time.”
“You do look less tired.”
He grinned, wiping his neck with a small towel. “Maybe rejection suits me.”
She closed her eyes, dropping her head. “Max, I’m…”
“No, it’s good. My ego needed a check.”
She searched his tone for sarcasm, but there wasn’t any. He was being sincere.
“What’s your agenda for the day?” he asked.
“Not much. I checked in with Trevor this morning about some research, and he’d found the cases I needed. I spoke to Sylvie on my way down here. She might have a lead on the stalker.”
“Indeed? She hadn’t mentioned that to me yet.”
“She’s still working on it.” Lana crossed her arms, looking at the rubber matting on the floor.
“We haven’t talked about the stalker in a while. How are you feeling about that subject?”
He’d asked the question gently. He claimed to be an asshole, but he didn’t know the meaning of the word.
“Afraid,” she admitted. “When I really think about it. I hate that he’s out there somewhere.”
“Do you know how to throw a punch?”
She lifted her eyes. “What?”
He was striding toward her. “I’m talking about self-defense. Have you taken any classes?”
“Um, a time or two, through work. I didn’t get that much out of it. Why?”
“Then let’s have a lesson. Right now.”
“Do you think it’ll help me feel less afraid?”
Max stood in front of her and dropped his chin. “Fear can be a very powerful thing. The first thing it tells you is to run, like you and Aurora did a few days ago. That was exactly the right call. But let’s say you can’t run.”
She blinked, thinking of the voice on the phone. The driver in the car behind her.
I’m going to make you mine.
Lana shuddered. “I’d be terrified. I don’t know what I would do. If I’d freeze up, or be able to fight back, or what.”
“Lana, fear is natural. It’s a given. You can’t fight it. The key is to transform that fear into action.”
Of course Max could do that. But Lana wasn’t sure if she was up to the task. “How?”
“Some practice. It takes less training than you’d think to throw a well-aimed blow. But the key is to move explosively. He’ll probably think you’re weaker than him, so he won’t expect that. You have to lash out before your attacker knows what’s hit him.”
He took her hand and pulled her into an open space, where mats lined the floor. Max circled her until he was behind her back. Close, but not touching. Lana felt his body there, as if his presence alone had a physical weight. A gravity. She tried to glance over her shoulder.
“Keep looking forward.”
She kept her head straight, facing the wall.