He chuckled and raised his eyebrows. “I’m sure it is. A gallon of cocktails will do that.” He glanced over at Carla pointedly before fixing Grace with an intense stare. “What exactly do you remember from last night?”
She cleared her throat and pulled at the bottom of her top. “Bits and bobs . . . puking, dancing, being an idiot.” She was hopelessly aware of there being three sets of curious eyes and ears watching and listening to their conversation. She sat up as if to lift herself from the lounger and removed her shades. “Can we talk?”
Max’s face lost some of its playfulness. “Sure. I need a shower anyway.” He looked over at his aunt. “Won’t be long.” He turned and made his way back to the house, Grace following close on his heels. They were halfway up the stairs to their room when he spoke again. “You all right apart from the hangover?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I just wanted to apologize.”
Max stopped short by their bedroom door. “What for?”
Grace moved past him, entering the room with a loud sigh. She felt him follow and heard the door shut. “I’m sorry I did what I did.” She reached the bed and turned to him, fisting her hands together, trying to find the right words. “It was silly and completely inappropriate.”
Max stared at her for a beat and lifted his shoulders. “No problem.”
“And I’m sorry for getting so drunk. It wasn’t fair to you to have to deal with me being a drunken mess, especially with what you’re already dealing with. It was inconsiderate, and I’m sorry.”
That was the foremost concern that had been tearing Grace up as she’d showered. She understood all too well the struggle Max faced every day with his addiction and the last thing he needed was her shoving right into his face the fact that he couldn’t have a drink.
For a brief moment, he looked like he was going to argue, but he seemed to think better of it. He rubbed a hand across his chin and nodded. “I appreciate that, but it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I wasn’t a good friend to you last night. You deserve better and I promise I won’t do it again.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she continued. “I know you’ll say I’m wrong but you know I’m right. Please, just let me grovel?”
He chuckled, his smile relaxed and beautiful. He waved a hand. “Fine. Grovel away.”
She pushed her hands into the pockets of her shorts. Max watched her for a quiet, comfortable moment before he took two steps closer. Grace’s heart stuttered. It was doing that more and more frequently around him and she couldn’t decide whether it was amazing or terrifying.
“I have to admit,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. It was his touching-each-other’s-fun-parts voice and it immediately did crazy things to her body. Her blood seemed to heat at the same time her organs squeezed lusciously. “Seeing you spread out on the bed in nothing but lace is an image that will live with me for a long time.” His eyes lingered down her body while he pressed his tongue to the back of his top teeth. She wanted to know what his tongue tasted like. “You looked hot as fuck, girl.”
Her words floated on a slow breath. “I’m glad you liked it.”
“I did.”
“Maybe I can do it for you again sometime.”
He smirked. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
“How about when we get back home?”
The way the word “home” struck Grace’s chest was altogether too wonderful. “I’m sure I could arrange something.”
He smiled wolfishly. “Outstanding. Now, please excuse me. I have to take another very cold shower.”
She watched him walk away, grumbling to himself about hypothermia, his back muscled, the tattoo exquisite and wet with sweat, making her throat even drier. The bathroom door shut and she heard the water turn on. She fell backward onto the bed and closed her eyes wondering what it would be like to join him in there. The anxiety that rose at the thought was minuscule in comparison to how it had been, but she remained where she was. She knew that she was ready to do more things with Max, not least of all because the electric tension between them was gathering enough voltage to power a small city.
Nevertheless, Grace also knew that her initial friendly intentions toward him were very slowly morphing into something else entirely. Something larger, scarier, something she’d promised herself, promised him that she wouldn’t allow. It sat silent yet growing in a small cavity in her chest, next to the hope of Max one day maybe feeling the same way.
She placed her hands on her face and breathed, knowing deep down that that was never going to happen. Shit, she was in trouble.
“Dude, I can’t do this anymore. Can I come and stay with you? Please?”