“God, yes. Please.”
He takes my hand and leads me toward the exit. “Great. And since I sprang for the diamonds, you’re buying.”
SIXTEEN
Pizza and Epiphanies
I laugh as Max stands as far away from me as he can in the elevator, both of us carrying a pizza box.
“Max, come on.”
“No. Keep your disgusting fruit pizza away from me. It’s an abomination that will frighten my pure-blooded pepperoni.”
“It’s a little bit of pineapple, for God’s sake. Not the Pizzapocalypse.”
He glares as if I just insulted his mother. “Fruit on pizzas is unnatural, and those who eat it are monsters.” He looks up at the lit numbers as we climb floors. “God, I was really starting to believe we could have something, Miss Tate. A real connection. But, now that you’ve revealed your true nature, I can barely look at you.”
“Max –”
He holds up his hand. “No. Don’t talk to me. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
I suppress a smile as he grimaces in disgust. This is the most relaxed we’ve ever been with each other, and I have to admit, I like it. His mood from earlier has completely gone, and I wonder if ending the official part of the ‘date’ had something to do with it. Now that he’s not playing a role, he’s a mixture between Kieran, Caleb, and Maxwell, and I wonder if that’s his secret to being so believable – all his roles are just different shades of himself.
“Max, can I –?”
“Stop talking. In fact, don’t even look at me.” He gestures with his head. “Turn around and face the wall. Go on.”
I roll my eyes and humor him, and I hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Good girl. Now, take some time to think about what you’ve done.”
I laugh, surprised that when he lets his guard down, he’s actually a regular guy. I decide that for tonight, I’m going to try to ban all thoughts of mistrusting him. I still need to get answers to my questions, but maybe I can do it while enjoying hanging out and eating pizza.
I peek over my shoulder to find him staring at me. More specifically, at my ass.
I clear my throat, and he looks away.
“So,” I say, feeling smug. “We’re going to Maxwell’s penthouse?”
He nods. “Each character has a different apartment. Maxwell’s is kind of ... impressive.”
“Do you own all of these?”
He snorts. “If I owned that much real estate, I could retire a wealthy man. Most of them I book through Air BnB.”
Now it’s my turn to snort. “Yeah, right.”
He shrugs. “Don’t really care if you don’t believe me. You’re a disgusting lover of fruit pizzas. You’re barely human.”
I’m still snickering when the elevator doors open to reveal the most incredible apartment I’ve ever seen.
“Oh ... my ... God.” I walk into the huge penthouse, mouth gaping. It’s plush and luxurious and has an entire wall of glass that showcases the breathtaking view, including the Empire State Building, front and center.
“What sort of freakazoid puts this up on Air BnB?”
“Someone who’s not here a lot and wants to share the view.” I barely notice when he takes my pizza box and walks into the kitchen. “Now, get your butt in here and eat. I can hear your stomach still growling, and it’s getting louder.”
I gawk at the view for another thirty seconds before turning to see him moving around in the gleaming white kitchen. He places a plate and napkin next to my pizza box then takes up position at the opposite end of the huge granite island.
“You stay down there with your monstrosity,” he says as he opens his lid. “And if you tell me you need utensils to eat pizza, then we’re done. Get the hell out of my presence with that nonsense.” He shoves a giant slice of pizza in his mouth as I walk over and open my box.
God, it smells amazing, but there’s no way I can eat pizza in the most beautiful dress on the planet. I’d ruin it within seconds.
I look at Max, who’s inhaling his slice with impressive speed. “I don’t suppose you have a robe or something. There’s no way I could live with myself if I got pizza-grease on this gown.
He puts down his slice and wipes his hands on a napkin. “No robe, but I might have something that could work. Come with me.”
I follow him across the living room and into the bedroom. The leather duffle bag he used as Caleb is there sitting on the bed, and a few articles of clothing are poking out the top. After throwing his phone and keycard onto the nightstand, he rifles through the bag and pulls out black sweatpants and a gray Led Zeppelin T-shirt and hands them to me. “These should do the trick. They’re clean, in case you’re wondering.”
The shirt is the same one he wore as Kieran when we ‘ran into each other’ at the bar. It seems I’ve come a long way since then, because I no longer have the urge to smack him for that deception.
“Thanks,” I say as I put the clothes on the bed and pull my hair over my shoulder. “Could you unzip me?”
“Uh ... sure.” He steps behind me, and I freeze as he slowly lowers my zipper. When it’s all the way down, I hear him exhale but don’t turn around. I assume he’s just gotten a full view of the expensive underwear he sent me, and if I want to have any chance of resisting my attraction to him, I need to avoid seeing his face right now.
“Thank you. I’ll be out in a minute.”
I feel tension in the air for a few seconds, and then the warmth behind me disappears before the door closes with a quiet click. I blow out a breath as I take off the dress and lay it carefully on the bed. Then I remove my shoes and pull on the soft T-shirt.
Oh, Lord. It smells like him. Well, like Kieran, anyway. Lemongrass. My sense memory makes parts of me pulse uncomfortably. The shirt’s so big it reaches the top of my thighs, and my body registers that Max’s size definitely isn’t a turn-off.
I pull on the pants, but the legs are so long, they cover my feet. Not to mention they fall straight down over my non-existent hips.
I pick them up and fold them neatly on the bed then take a deep breath.
Okay. I’m just going to eat pizza with him. Press him for information about his past. Get the story. Easy.
I pad back out into the kitchen to find Max has already polished off half of his pizza. When he looks over at me, he freezes mid-chew, his eyes wide and his jaw slack.
I go to my end of the bench and attack the largest piece in the box. He wasn’t wrong about this being the best pie in New York. Even with my heathen fruit tainting the flavor, it’s freaking delicious.
“Oh, God. So good.” I moan as try to fill the black hole inside me. Of course, only part of that hunger has to do with food.
When I finally look up from stuffing my face, Max is still frozen, watching me. After he catches me looking at him, he chews and swallows what’s in his mouth, his eyes flashing with something that looks a hell of a lot like irritation.
“Where are the pants?”