Chapter Sixteen
Sutton
It’s not the fact that Max insists on crouching beside me while we eat that has me on edge, sweating even inside the air-conditioned dining room.
It’s not even the fact that he stares at me far more than he acknowledges the other people at our table.
It’s the fact that with him beside me, I can think of little else.
Conversations happen. People laugh. Stories are told.
And I couldn’t tell you one thing that has been said since we sat down and Max mentioned love.
It’s absurd. Obviously. But the way he said it, so nonchalantly… as if it was true…
Well, my heart hasn’t stopped palpitating since.
I’ve barely touched my Monte Christo sandwich.
Of course, the fact that it’s not breaded and deep fried doesn’t help. Or worse, the fact that the restaurant added eggs to it. I shiver as I poke at it with my fork.
“Sutton,” Max says, making me jump. For a brief moment, I forgot he was right there.
“Hm?”
“Trade me.”
I blink, looking over at him. “What?”
“You haven’t touched your breakfast.”
I frown. “Well. Don’t call it a Monte Christo if it’s just a breakfast sandwich.”
“Noted.” Max smiles at me in that way that always seems to disarm me. “You know what? I happen to love breakfast sandwiches.”
Without my permission, he grabs my plate, then places a heaping plate of eggs benedict in front of me. “Eat, darlin’.”
I scowl at the food, confused by the fact that it’s untouched. And steaming. Looking over at Max, I ask, “Did you just order this?”
He winks. “Perhaps.”
“My second favorite brunch order.” Flicking my gaze to my cousin beside him, I roll my eyes. Anderson won’t even look at me. “Guilty.”
“Hey, don’t be hard on him,” Max says, “I can be a pretty intimidating guy when I want to be.”
“Just ask Bumper Garrison,” Grayson says, and everyone laughs.
I try to keep my smile hidden, but it’s no use, so I grin and cut into my new breakfast. “He had that coming.” I shove a bite into my mouth and catch Max watching me. Turning toward him, I ask, “Happy?” around a mouthful of food.
“More than you know.”
“Did you know that guy before today?”
I swivel my head to look at the young woman sitting beside Grayson. She gave me her name—they both did—but like I said, I’ve been a bit distracted by the protective brute who refuses to get a chair and still squats beside me.
“Ugh, he was all over you,” the other says, and they both shudder.
“I met him this morning,” I say once I’ve swallowed my bite. “He made quite the impression.”
The woman beside me snorts. “Well, props to you, girl. I wouldn't have been able to keep my cool for that long.”
I grimace, wiping my mouth with my napkin. “I’m not sure what that says about me.”
Beside me, Max grunts. “It says you’re polite, even when people don’t deserve your kindness.”
I look at him and I’m instantly locked in the intensity of those dark eyes. My stomach swoops like it often does when he looks at me like that, the reverence in his eyes threatening to steal my breath.
Swallowing hard, I offer him a small smile, then focus on my breakfast.
What is he doing to me?
One chivalrous act and I’m suddenly forgetting that he’s Maxwell freaking Cruz? Not only is he the biggest regret from my past—hello!—but he’s my direct competition. He doesn’t get to be the man who wakes up the butterflies in my stomach after years of hibernation.
Conversation resumes around us, and I try to focus on my meal, all the while painfully aware of Max’s attention. His gaze never leaves me.
Every time I chance a glance at him, our eyes meet, and he smirks in that arrogant way of his.
Maybe I should just give in, let him get it out of his system so I can move on with my damn life.
I snort and all eyes turn toward me.
Blinking, I look up, and it’s obvious that I’ve made a sound at the absolute wrong time. I look at Anderson and his eyes are wide, his lips twitching on a smile.
I’ve missed something important in the conversation.
“Sorry, I…” I clear my throat and leave the sentence unfinished.
“So,” the woman beside me continues, “the vet said we couldn’t save her…”
Oh my god.
I close my eyes shut, trying with all my might not to laugh.
Max squeezes my leg and I swivel my head to meet his gaze. He winks and I can hold it back no longer. I burst into laughter, then quickly excuse myself, leaving the table as swiftly as possible.
Poor girl’s telling a story about her dead cat—dog?—and I’m laughing. I’m a monster.
This only makes me laugh harder.
I don’t stop until I’m in the bathroom alone, leaning over the counter as I stare at myself in the mirror. Wild eyes and flushed cheeks.
That man has me all out of sorts. The pressure building throughout brunch has me ready to burst like a shaken can of soda.
Shaking my head, I slip into a stall—might as well take this opportunity to empty my bladder—and when I’m finished, I wash my hands, give myself one more pointed look in the mirror, then pull the door open and step out into the hallway.
Right into Max’s broad chest.
“Whoa,” he says, gripping my upper arms to steady me.
I huff, looking up into his amused brown eyes. “What are you doing?”
His brows furrow. “Waiting for you.”
I pure my lips even as my heart stumbles over itself. “Why?”
He shrugs. “No reason, really. Just thought you might want to know that they’ve moved on to talking about dead grandmas now, if you feel like getting a head start on your comedy routine.”
“Oh my god.” With a groan, I squeeze my eyes shut and drop my head, then instantly freeze as I realize what I’ve done. My forehead rests against his too-big chest.
His fingers flex on my biceps.
I breathe in, stupidly drawing in that signature scent of his, then I lick my lips and lift my head. When our eyes meet, the heated look in his steals my breath.
I reach out, settling my hands onto his waist.
He pulls me closer and I tilt my head back.
His chest rises and falls on a deep breath.
He licks his lips.
My heart slams against my ribs.
Max leans down—
And I panic, pulling quickly away from him and pressing my back against the opposite wall. Shaking my head, I say, “I’m sorry. I can’t,” even though I’m not even sure why I’m saying that. It’s just that I’ve pushed him away for so long that anything else feels wrong.
Dangerous.
I don’t have time for the mindfuck that is Maxwell Cruz.
He closes his eyes on a long blink, then gives a curt nod and leaves me breathless and kicking myself in the hallway.