He flashed his dimples and pulled down his boxer briefs. “Or you can stay and watch.” He kissed my shoulder. “Better yet, join me.”
Just then, someone knocked on the door to the suite.
“Looks like it’s a shower for one.” I grinned.
Max pouted.
Back in the bedroom, I grabbed my purse to dig out a tip before answering. But the only thing I had was a hundred-dollar bill. So I popped my head back into the bathroom.
“Hey. Do you have any small bills for a tip? I only have a hundred.”
Max was already in the shower. “Yeah, I should. I think my wallet might still be in my pants pocket. Help yourself.”
“Thanks.”
I looked around the bedroom to find his pants, but they weren’t there. Then I remembered they were probably still right near the door—where he’d pulled them down as he held me against the wall about two seconds after I arrived last night. I smiled at the memory as I picked them up and found his wallet. He had a ten, so I slipped it out and answered the door.
Room service wheeled in a cart, and I chuckled at the full-size box of Cheerios and big, glass carafe of milk. I handed the attendant the tip and walked him to the door.
Just before it shut, he turned back. “Miss?”
“Yes?”
He held out a business card. “This was inside the bill you just gave me.”
“Oh. Sorry.” I took the card. “Thank you.”
Back in the room, I went to return the card to Max’s wallet. As I slipped it in, I couldn’t help but notice the words printed on the top: Cedars Sinai Neurology & Neurosurgery. There was an address underneath, and a handwritten date and time on the appointment line for two days ago. Rather than put it back in his wallet, I left it on the room service tray so I wouldn’t forget to ask him about it.
Then Maggie called, and just as Max got out of the shower, his phone rang. So it wasn’t until we were half done with breakfast that I noticed it again.
I lifted the card. “This was tucked into the bill I took out of your wallet to give the room service person. I didn’t notice it, but the guy handed it back to me as he was leaving.”
Max looked down at the card and then up at me. He said nothing.
“Did you go to a neurologist the other day?” I asked.
He took the card and shoved it into his pocket. “Yeah. Just a checkup.”
“A checkup? I’ve never been to a neurologist.”
Max shoveled a heaping spoonful of Cheerios into his mouth and shrugged.
“Is there a reason you get checked?”
I don’t think I’d ever realized Max usually made good eye contact when he spoke—until now, when he avoided making any at all. He pushed the Cheerios in his bowl around with his spoon. “I get migraines. So I get checked once in a while.”
“Oh. You never mentioned migraines.”
He shrugged again. “Guess it never came up.”
“Your doctor is out here, in California?” My forehead wrinkled. “So you come all the way out here to get your checkups?”
“He’s a good doctor.”
Something seemed odd about this exchange… “Did everything at your appointment go okay this time?”
“Yep. You want his number to check for yourself?”
I shook my head. “Sorry. I’m being nosy.”
“Not a problem.” His phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up and read. “You have anything you want to do today?”
I shrugged. “Not really.”
“Would you want to go check out some houses with me?”
“Houses?”
“Yeah. The team operations manager hooked me up with a real estate agent, and she asked if I wanted to see a few houses this afternoon.”
“Oh…I didn’t realize you’d planned to buy a place.”
“I hadn’t. But my finance guy has been pushing me to invest in property for the last year. He says it’s the right time to buy. I figured it couldn’t hurt to get an idea of what you get for your money in different areas. I agreed to it before I knew you were coming, so if you aren’t up for it, it’s no big deal. I can cancel.”
“No, that’s fine. It sounds like fun.”
“Alright. I’ll tell her to give us an hour.”
? ? ?
“What’s going on with you?” Max came up behind me as I stared out at downtown Los Angeles from the third-floor-bedroom balcony of one of the houses we were looking at. He put one hand on either side of me on the railing.