I’m hanging on by a thread.
Paul is throwing shit-jobs at me, on top of my holiday ideas. There’s an insidious feeling that I’m in danger. I can’t shake it. I want nothing more than to give every hour to Max and his dream project, but Paul is making sure I’ve got nothing left to give.
Defeated I shrug, “Isn’t being tired a good enough reason? Does there have to be more?” It’s half the truth, and all I’m capable of. “Everything feels hard right now, Max. I’m really tired.”
Gorgeous green eyes soften. “It’s a good enough reason.”
“Thank you.”
“Come here.” Jogging his chin toward the kitchen he heads away. I follow to his refrigerator, wishing I could tell him the idea of them alone here rehearsing is murder. But they need to rehearse and I can’t get away on a Saturday.
He fills up a teapot and puts it on the stove.“I’m going to fix you something warm so you can relax a little. You’re high strung.”
“That sure makes a woman feel better when it’s called out like that.”
He smirks and motions to a bar stool stationed at his kitchen island. “Noted.”
I take a seat, thick coat bunched around me. “I’m just giving you some clues.”
“To how your mind works?”
“How most women’s minds work.” At his cocked eyebrow I add, “Never tell us to calm down either. That’s like touching a match to dynamite.”
Max laughs and opens his cupboard. He’s a fairly tidy guy but there’s no rhyme or reason to his organization of them. “I’ve made that mistake before, actually.” As he sets mismatched coffee cups down his eyes are on a memory. “Once dated this girl in high school who had a temper like nobody I’d ever met. I’d tell her to calm down and you’re right, it never worked. Actually…”
We both say at the same time, “it did the opposite,” which makes him smile.
He bends over the island, leaning on his elbows, one leg back. “You should have given me that advice back then.”
“Let’s go back in time and I’ll help you out.”
“Would you? That’d be awesome.”
“Sure let’s go.” Glancing around I ask, “Where’s your time machine?”
“It’s behind that divider,” he smirks.
“Nice try.”
“We could go back in time to when you were naked in there with me.”
“Not today.”
Max gives me the sexiest, teasing look. “Come on. One for old times?”
My eyes widen and I start laughing. “Now I see how you were so able to write that script about your sexy dad! You’re just like him.”
The teapot starts to hiss. “Thanks,” he winks, and shuts the burner off, pouring into our cups. “Probably should get teabags for these. Pretty boring to drink just hot water.” He flicks smiling green eyes to me and spins around, whipping open a cupboard. Bottles of liquor glint in the light and he snatches Bookers whiskey from a shelf and pours some into the cups. “Hot Toddy time,” he murmurs, strolling from fridge to storage and back to the cups with the cloves, cinnamon sticks, honey, and a fresh lemon. As he slices it into wedges and gives them a squeeze he glances to me. “Now that’s a very different look than the one you gave me before.”
Wanting to run into his arms and disappear for days, I glance down to my tense body. “What can I say? I love a surprise cocktail from the prohibition era.”
He chuckles, “Nice! Welcome to my speakeasy!”
Pleased I made him laugh, I add on a smile, “Hidden bedrooms and all,” and take the offered cup to sniff his handiwork, closing my eyes. “Mmm, that smells delicious.”
“Of course it does.”
“Because you made it.”
“That’s right,” he winks again, charm turned up to eleven as he taps his cup against mine. “To relaxing those shoulders.”
“Yes, please,” I whisper before blowing and venturing a sip. “Mmm, delicious. Why am I just now learning about this?”
“You probably drink martinis.” He leans against the counter, his cup at his command.
Amused I lean against the island, opposite him. “Why is that your guess?”
“Because you’re sleek.”
“Sleek?” I slide a fingernail along the side of my hair, wondering if he’s comparing me to Colleen. I’m about as opposite to her as I can be. But I manage to hide my insecurity with a simple, “Thank you.”
“You look like you could hold a whip pretty well, too.”
A grin flashes from surprise. “Hate to disappoint you, Max, but I’m not into BDSM.”
“Just a little whip?” he teases.
“Don’t talk about your penis that way.”
A guffaw explodes from him, leaving the cutest smile lingering in its wake. “My cock is far from little.”
“Seen a lot of phalluses have you?”
“My fair share.”
I smile from the rim of my steaming cup. “Oh? Do tell,”
“You know urinals are a thing, right? Can’t help but see how you measure up against the next guy.”
“So, when you’re spying on the sizes of your urinal neighbors do they notice?”
“We strike up a conversation so we can pretend we aren’t doing it.”
“That’s hilarious!” I take a small sip, licking the honey from my lips. “I bet they wished they hadn’t looked.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you’re so big!”
“Ah ha!” he bellows, holding the cup high above his head. “Victory is mine! You admitted I’m hung!”
“Stop it, of course you are. You’re spilling your Toddy.”
He rubs the drips off his wrist with the hem of his shirt. “Worth every lost drop. So, you wanna see my cock again right now?”
“What? NO!”
Walking toward me, Max dips an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“Yes,” I laugh, holding out my arm. “Go back to that counter where I can keep an eye on you.”
“Up close you don’t have to strain.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Because you think I want to have sex with Colleen?” My lips part and he smiles, running a finger over my lips. “I know why you were glaring at me. From one jealous fucker to another, I recognized that look.”
“She’s very beautiful.”
“Yes, she is. There are a lot
