“Really?”
Max nodded. “You can bring Maggie or someone, if you want. That way you won’t feel like it’s a date, if you haven’t decided on us yet.”
“That’s very nice of you.”
He opened my apartment building door and walked me to the elevator.
“Thank you for drinks and the ride home,” I told him.
After I pressed the up button, Max reached out and took my hand. He stared down at our joined hands for a long while before his eyes worked their way up. They stopped at my mouth, and he shook his head. “This is the second time I’m leaving you, and each time it gets harder not to kiss you goodbye.” His eyes met mine. The intensity radiating from them took my breath away. “I want to kiss you so fucking bad.”
I couldn’t say anything, though it seemed like he was waiting for a response. My brain was too busy sending electric currents racing through my body.
Our eyes stayed locked as Max took a pensive step forward.
Through my peripheral vision, I saw the elevator doors slide open. It was right next to us, so we both clearly heard it, too. Yet our gazes remained steady. Max took another step toward me.
I think I might’ve stopped breathing at that point.
Then he took another step, and our feet were toe to toe. Slowly, Max reached out and lifted one finger to my mouth. He traced my bottom lip from one side to the other, then his finger slid down over my chin, over the length of my throat, and stopped at the hollow of my neck. He spoke directly to the spot as he traced a circle. “I’m not even going to ask to kiss you. Because I won’t be able to control myself if you let me.” He shook his head. “I want to leave marks.”
Oh my.
Max swallowed. Watching his Adam’s apple work made me feel woozy. But it was nothing compared to how the way he was looking at me made me feel. Or maybe the lightheadedness came from the fact that I still hadn’t remembered to breathe.
My mouth grew dry, and my tongue peeked out to run wetness along my lips. Max’s eyes followed, and he groaned. Somewhere in the distance, I heard a bell ding, but the meaning didn’t register until Max held out his hand to stop the elevator doors from closing. He tilted his head toward the open car.
“You better go,” he growled. “I’m not ruining my chance before I’m even given one. But I hope you’ll give my summer proposal some thought.”
“I will.” I had to force myself to step into the empty elevator car. “Goodnight, Max.”
“Sweet dreams, sweetheart.” He grinned. “I know I’ll be having them.”
CHAPTER 5
* * *
Max
“What’s up, old man? You have kids doing all the work for you again?”
Otto Wolfman turned. He smiled but tried to hide it as he waved me off. “Who you calling old? If you take a look in the mirror, you won’t see the left wing who scored three goals the other night. I believe that man is enjoying a Philly cheesesteak back home in sunny Philadelphia.”
Oof. That one hurt. We got our asses kicked in Philly the other day. But this ball-busting with Otto was all in good fun. It always had been. I walked over to where he sat on the penalty bench, and we slapped hands before I passed him a coffee. For the last seven years I’d been playing at the Garden, Otto Wolfman had tended to the ice, but he’d also been here thirty-one years before that. The ornery old bastard reminded me so much of my dad, though I’d never told him that. Every Saturday morning, I came an hour or so before practice and brought him the sludge he preferred from the street cart down the block. I’d made the mistake of bringing him Starbucks once. Once.
He pointed to the young guy driving his Zamboni. “This idiot paid ten-thousand dollars to do this. Can you believe that? Some sort of an auction where a bunch of rich, Wall Street types bid on shit. What’s he, twenty-three?” Otto shook his head. “At least it’s for charity.”
I looked over at the ice. The guy navigating the Zamboni around the rink wore a giant smile. He was definitely enjoying himself. I shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat, I guess.”
“Got the weekend off after practice this morning, don’t cha?”
“Yep.” I sipped my coffee.
“Any big plans?”
I shook my head and chuckled. “Apparently, I’m throwing myself a birthday party.”
Otto’s bushy brows pulled together. “Apparently? You sound like you’re not sure.”
“Well, I wasn’t planning on it. But then I told a woman I was so I could get her to spend time with me.”