“So why would me touching you be any different?” Max asked his brow creasing.
Grace smiled. “Because you’re the first guy since my husband that I’ve wanted to get close to. Not like that,” she explained when he fidgeted uncomfortably. “I wanted to get to know you, be your friend. I felt safe being near you, and the urge to run away and lock myself in a room goes away when we hang out.” Grace cleared her throat, awkwardness teasing her neck. “I just thought that . . . because I can handle being with you, I might be able to handle being with you.”
Max’s eyes widened when understanding struck. “I see.”
Grace toed the floor with her bare foot. “You saw what happened when Buck touched me. You think I want that to happen the rest of my life every time someone wants to fool around?” Anger bubbled through her. “I hate that he has power over me, even when we’ve been apart all this time. I hate that he still gets to dictate who I can be with, who I can be friends with. He doesn’t deserve that power. He did nothing to earn it.”
“I agree. You shouldn’t let him control your life.”
“I want to reclaim it.” Her voice raised in volume. “I want to be sexy again. I want to be passionate, and not afraid to be sexual.”
Their eyes met for a brief moment, until Max looked away with a deep inhalation. He rubbed his face. The sound of his whiskers scratching his palm did funny things to Grace’s belly.
“Can I be honest with you?” he asked, his expression sincere but torn.
“Of course you can.”
He paused, opening his mouth a number of times without speaking. He stretched his neck and shifted his weight. “You’re hot, all right,” he said finally. “And you’re sexy as all hell; you really shouldn’t worry about that. And six months ago, I would have fucked you any way you wanted me to.” He stared. “Shit, I’d still fuck you any way you wanted me to.”
Grace swallowed. “Okay.”
“But, like I said, you deserve more than that.”
“I don’t want more than that, Max,” she argued. He appeared doubtful. Grace stepped forward. “All right,” she began. “Hypothetically, if you agreed to this, what would be your terms, your limits?”
“ ‘This’ being us fucking?” Max clarified.
“Yes.”
He lifted his chin, his eyes traveling down her body in a way that caused her skin to heat. “No cuddling, no lovey-dovey talk, no pet names, no kissing.”
Grace cocked her head. “No kissing, period, or . . .”
“On the mouth,” he answered quietly. “It’s too intimate.”
Grace smirked. “How very Pretty Woman of you.”
“Pretty what?”
She waved her hand. “Never mind. Those seem fair terms.”
Even the cuddling. She wasn’t about to tell him how he’d held her all night long. That would be her little secret.
“No promises, no expectations,” he added, firmly counting the limits on his fingers. “We use a condom.” He pointed at her, his expression grave. “That’s a deal breaker for me.”
“Of course. I’d expect nothing less.” She watched Max gather himself. “Anything else?”
He pressed his lips together. “I don’t think so. As long as we’re clear that this is what it is, nothing more. We’re friends. No relationship, no love, no bullshit.”
Bitterness laced every word, but Grace nodded anyway. “Sure. You’re just a friend helping me move forward,” she said as though reading from a textbook. “We try it once and see what happens, right?”
“Right.”
“Okay.” Grace licked her lips, underlying excitement pinging through her veins.
Max cleared his throat and shifted where he stood. “And if you’re not okay the first time?”
Grace lifted a shoulder, praying to everything she adored that she would be. She’d be mortified if she had another attack in front of Max. “Then we can try again,” she offered, her voice lifting as though it was a question. She didn’t want to assume Max would want to sleep with her more than once, despite his words to the contrary. “Until I can handle being touched without freaking out like an idiot and I find someone who can love me, warts, and all, we do this.”
She smiled, but Max didn’t reciprocate. She understood his reticence, of course; this was a big deal; but Grace didn’t allow herself to worry about how their being intimate might throw a wrench into the workings of their friendship. He’d made it abundantly clear where he stood, and Grace would respect that. Plus she trusted herself not to let any nonplatonic feelings creep into the equation. No. She wouldn’t. It was what it was. No more.
She looked Max square in the eye. “It won’t get weird. Promise.”
“Good.” His shoulders dropped slightly; he was apparently relieved. “What about you?” he asked after a beat of silence. “What’re your limits?”
She blinked at him, surprised by his question.
“Grace, I don’t want to touch you and make you panic,” he added steadily. “If this is gonna work, you have to tell me what I can and can’t do.”