“Don’t even think about the bed,” Max said. “I’ve got dibs. I’m taking a quick shower first. Don’t eat anything while I’m gone, you hear me?”
There was a silence and then the sound of a door shutting and water coming on.
Max in the shower.
A thought that gave Rory a hot flash. The guy went to the gym. He ran. He kicked ass at work. He was all solid, lean muscle, and knowing he was stripping down and stepping into a steamy hot shower had her pulse rate in overdrive.
She tried to remind herself that he didn’t like her very much but she had to admit, his actions toward her didn’t support that theory. He’d given her a ride. He’d looked out for her, finding her an alternate ride when his truck had failed them. He’d gotten her a motel room. He’d been protective, if not exactly the “gentle” that Willa had asked him for, and he’d certainly been kind.
And then there’d been the kiss that had led to a make--out session for the record books. Just thinking about it had her nipples hard again and started that tingle in her thighs.
She liked him, she really liked him.
And she always had.
“Dammit,” she whispered.
Get some sleep, he’d said. But she knew she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.
She’d cost him a scholarship.
She’d ruined his life.
No, she wouldn’t sleep. Not until she knew she’d done her best to make things right.
Chapter Eight
MAX STOOD IN the shower, hands flat on the tile wall, his head bent so that the hot water could beat down on him.
My family and I have a rocky relationship. I’ve flaked on them, a lot. I’m . . . undependable. I wanted to change that this year. . .
It pissed him off that Rory’s family didn’t see her for the incredible woman she was. She deserved support from them. Shaking his head, he turned off the water and grabbed a towel.
I’m still not leaving you out here alone in this storm on the side of the road . . .
He still couldn’t believe how amazingly fierce she’d been, standing there in the crazy storm, teeth chattering and still, refusing to leave him alone.
Not the sign of a flaky woman, one who didn’t care about anyone other than herself. In fact, she was the exact opposite of that.
Running the towel over his wet head, he stepped out of the bathroom and heard a sharp gasp.
Definitely not Carl.
Lifting his head, he met Rory’s shocked gaze as it ran down the length of his nude body.
“Um,” she said.
He arched a brow. “Didn’t hear you knock.”
“Um,” she said again but didn’t, he couldn’t help but notice, look away.
He walked to the duffle bag on the floor, squatted low, and rifled through for a clean pair of jeans. Straightening, he pulled them on and turned back to her.
She blinked. “You’re . . . commando.”
“And you found your words again.”
She rolled her eyes so hard he was surprised they didn’t come out of the sockets. “I’m just discombobulated because we didn’t get home,” she said just defensively enough to make him grin.
“And here I thought it was me naked.”
“Fine,” she said, blushing. “Maybe it was a little bit you naked.”
“Yeah, if you could not use ‘little’ and ‘naked’ in the same sentence about me,” he said and smiled when she found a laugh.
“Okay, I want to start over.” She took a deep breath. “I cost you your college education.”
He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”
“Yes, you should have. I still can’t believe I didn’t know.” She shook her head, looking devastated. “No wonder you hated me all this time, and now you’re stuck with me on Christmas Eve and I don’t even have a present to give you in the morning.”
He choked out a low laugh. “I never hated you, Rory.”
A lot crossed her face at that. Hope. Relief. “No?”
“No.” He hesitated, something he rarely did. “Look, if we’re sharing and all that, then there’s some things you should know.”
Her gaze locked on his and held. “Like?”
He sighed. “It’s true that back then I was pissed off. I was angry at the world, actually, and also going out with girls I wouldn’t look twice at now because I was a first--class ass, but I’m glad it all happened the way it did. I wouldn’t change it.”
“You wouldn’t?” she asked, her fingers tightly entwined together, knuckles white.
Shaking his head, he stepped toward her and took her hands in his, gently applying pressure until she loosened her fingers so he could clasp them in his. “I’d have ended up in Michigan,” he said. “It’s fucking cold in Michigan.”
She snorted. “It’s fucking cold here.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Not in this room it’s not.”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Max—-”
“My point is that I love San Francisco,” he said. “I love my job, my place, my friends. My life there is good. Great, actually.”
She let out a long, shaky breath. “Thanks. You didn’t have to say that.”