Chapter 4
Max had never moved so fast in his life.
One moment, he’d been sitting there dumbstruck, watching with increasing bemusement as the gorgeous mystery woman had become more and more flustered with each word she spoke.
The next moment, the gorgeous mystery woman had been in his arms, mere inches away from a painful collision with the floor.
He honestly didn’t know how he’d managed it – the only comparable thing he’d ever seen was his mom’s shifter speed when he’d almost wandered into traffic one time when he was a kid, when she’d even managed to kick off her white patent leather high heels first before dashing out to grab him unharmed.
But he wasn’t a shifter, so where the hell had that come from? !
Somehow, the act of catching her had flipped her around, so he was now looking directly into her stunning hazel eyes, framed perfectly by her messy, curly blonde hair.
She was a little blurry from up this close without his glasses, but maybe that was for the best. She was so stunningly beautiful that it took his breath away, even when he couldn’t quite see her properly.
If he’d been able to see her perfectly, he would’ve lost all of his higher functions and motor control and just dropped her onto the floor, which would’ve probably not been very gallant.
Silently, he cursed the fact that she’d seen him with his glasses on. He’d gotten enough grief about them from other kids at school that he usually wore contacts these days, but when there was no one else around, he preferred the relative comfort of the glasses.
Don’t kid yourself, he muttered to himself, even as his eyes roved over the woman’s strong nose, her pink cheeks, her perfect lips. The real reason you hate them is because they’re a constant reminder that you’re not a shifter.
If he’d been a full shifter, he would’ve had perfect vision.
He’d kept his blurry eyesight a secret from his mom for years, because he’d known that it would be one more reminder of his father, one more hint at the unlikelihood of Max ever being able to shift.
One more hint at the unlikelihood of him having a mate out there, waiting for him.
The woman in his arms blinked her eyes, her mouth opening as if she wanted to say something, but wasn’t quite sure what.
Max waited, anticipation and apprehension doing battle within him.
She really was more than within her rights to demand that he let her go immediately, given how long he’d just been holding on to her and staring at her face.
After several moments, she seemed to finally find what she wanted to say.
“… Are the olives okay?”
A startled laugh escaped from him. It was a feeling he wasn’t very used to.
Checking the floor, he saw that somehow the open jar, with its low center of gravity, had merely skidded across the floor, leaving only the tiniest of streaks of olive oil in its wake.
The eggs, on the other hand…
“The olives are safe,” he said solemnly. “However, the eggs didn’t make it. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, that’s a shame,” she said, a little breathlessly. Max noted that she was still clutching the boxes from Sylvie’s bakery close to her chest, having apparently prioritized their safety.
A woman after my own heart, he thought, a little dreamily... before confusion took over.
Why am I thinking these thoughts about a woman I just met? This isn’t like me at all. Two minutes ago I was annoyed that my peace had been disturbed, and now I’m acting all lovesick? I don’t even know why she’s in my kitchen!
If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought that this was what his mom had been talking about when she said that every shifter had a mate – a person who was made just for them. That you just knew they were your mate as soon as you touched them.
But no, it wasn’t the case at all in this instance.
Because he’d been told that there was a physical feeling that accompanied the touch of your mate that was like a mild electrical buzz, and there had been none of that.
And he almost certainly didn’t have a mate, given that he couldn’t shift, so there was no point in wondering about it, anyway.
Mate or not, he’d been pretty enamored of her even before they’d touched.
Confused and surprised, yes, but definitely also intrigued.
Who wouldn’t be, when a gorgeous woman entered the room, started stuttering adorably, grabbed an armful of food, and quoted Catch-22 for no reason?
She was fascinating, beautiful, and just a little nerdy – the perfect combination.
And then there was the fact that she was apparently completely immune to his powers. He’d tried to make himself forgettable at first, in the hope that he could just slip out of the room without her really noticing him.
But she’d just kept on going with her nervous ramble, not even batting an eye at his attempts.
It wasn’t even like with Kieran earlier, where he’d just seemed a bit confused upon meeting Max – the woman had just kept on keeping on, despite his attempts to make her forget him.
If anything, it felt like she noticed him more, rather than less.
He’d never locked eyes with anyone like that in his life.
It was almost embarrassing on his part. His ability to make himself blend in with the furniture seemed to have taken a definite hit since he’d arrived in Girdwood Springs, which absolutely had not happened the last time he was here.
However, while it was worrying, it was also a little intriguing. It had been a long time since anything this interesting had happened in his life.
But in the meantime…
“I should… probably clean up those eggs before they get between the floorboards,” he said awkwardly.
And they say romance is dead! Bravo.
“What?” the woman said, her brow furrowing cutely, before comprehension dawned on her face. “Oh. Yes.” She juggled the boxes into her left hand, before sticking out her right. “I’m Poppy, by the way.”
Max went to shake her hand, before realizing that it wouldn’t be possible without dropping her. Poppy seemed to have the same realization, because her nose wrinkled in obvious embarrassment and frustration at herself.
Feeling oddly disturbed at her obvious distress, Max straightened up, easing her back onto her feet, before proffering his own hand.
“Max,” he said, and she shook his hand firmly. Her palm was a little sweaty, but he couldn’t say he blamed her, given everything.
They stared at each other some more, the handshake going on a little too long, until Max broke it off reluctantly and took a half step back.
He was feeling more than a little self-conscious.
Given his loner tendencies, he didn’t tend to get half-naked in front of other people that often…
and especially not when other people equaled the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
He crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to make it too obvious that he was trying to cover up.
All too late he noticed that he had ink stains on his fingers from his earlier writing spree.
If ever there was a situation in my life where I needed my powers to be working, he thought morosely… though if they were working, he supposed, then he wouldn’t be talking to Poppy. He thought that it was worth the embarrassment.
Mostly.
“Ah,” he said, a little lost for words. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this.
” He untucked one arm briefly and gestured at the mess of food on the table, the open bottle of milk that he’d been drinking directly out of, the chicken drumstick – which had finally ended up on the table when he’d made his mad dash to catch Poppy before she hit the floor – and his general shirtless state.
“I’m not,” Poppy murmured, apparently answering on autopilot, before she startled. “I mean… oh God, I’m sorry. Did you want to go… get dressed? I’d offer you my jacket, but I don’t think it would fit you.”
Max knew that some other guys in this situation would play it cool and lounge around shirtless for a bit, maybe put on a display, but he just wasn’t built that way. Besides, taking a minute away from the whole situation to regroup would probably do him a world of good.
“I think that’s a great idea,” he said. “I’ll be back in just a minute. Help yourself to the food.”
He hurried from the room before she could say anything else, slamming the door a bit too hard behind him.
Grabbing a t-shirt, he threw it on, examining himself critically in the mirror.
The pajamas were a bit ridiculous and he regretted them intensely, but if he took them off now, it would be like admitting that he wasn’t confident enough to wear them in front of other people. Besides, they were really comfortable.
Leaning forward to check his face more closely, he noticed with a feeling of mild humiliation that he’d apparently had a piece of chicken stuck to his mouth this whole time.
Taking a deep breath, he exhaled it slowly and leaned against the wall, before closing his eyes. The past few minutes had been an absolute whirlwind, and his brain hadn’t quite caught up with everything that had happened yet.
The thought occurred to him that he could just not go back into the kitchen, and avoid the whole situation – and normally, that would be the kind of thing he would do.
It wasn’t that different from using his powers to make himself unnoticeable, really, and usually the thought of being stuck in an excruciatingly awkward situation with a stranger was his own personal definition of hell.
But there was just something about Poppy that made him insanely curious to know more about her. And it wasn’t just the fact that she seemed to be immune to his powers, or how beautiful she was – although both of those things had piqued his interest, of course.
Lost in his thoughts, he stared at the bedside table, not paying much attention to what he was looking at – and then he noticed that his phone’s notification light was flashing.