Beautiful Stranger
Page 66
Just your average godlike f**k buddy, hanging out at the burger place, waiting for you.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and walked over to him.
The lines had blurred. After today, I couldn’t pretend I wanted nothing from him beyond orgasms. I couldn’t pretend that my heart didn’t twist deliciously when I saw him, or twist with discomfort when I left. I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t have feelings for him.
I wondered if it was too late to flee.
It was only when I heard his laugh that I realized I’d been staring, my mouth open slightly, and he’d been watching me for . . . I have no idea how long. A smile tilted up half of his mouth.
“You look pretty excited for this beer.” He pushed a pint across the table and held up his own. “I took the liberty of ordering you a burger the size of your head, and some chips.” He grinned and then clarified, “A.k.a. ‘fries.’ ”
“Perfect. Thanks.” I set my purse on an empty chair and sat across from him. His eyes smiled, and then dipped to look at my lips.
“So,” I said, sipping my beer and assessing him over the rim.
“So.”
He looked positively amused with this turn of events. I wasn’t a control freak, but I was used to having a pretty predictable life, and in the past two months, I hadn’t been able to anticipate anything that had come my way. “Thanks for inviting me to the bar today.”
He nodded, scratching the back of his neck. “Thanks for coming.”
“Your friends are nice.”
“They’re a bunch of arseholes.”
I laughed, feeling my shoulders slowly relax. “That’s funny. That’s what they said about you.”
He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I have a question.”
“Yes?”
“Are we on a date?”
I nearly choked on the sip of beer I’d just taken.
“For the love of God, woman, don’t have a fit. I just wonder if you’d like to reestablish ground rules. Should we review our previous set?”
I nodded, pressing a napkin to my lips and mumbling, “Sure.”
He set his drink down and began ticking my rules off on his long fingers. “One night a week, no other lovers, sex preferably in public—definitely not in my bed—pictures are requested, but no faces, no publicity.” He lifted his glass, took a deep drink, and then leaned forward again, whispering, “And nothing between us other than sex. Scratching an itch and all that. Did I capture it all?”
“Sounds about right.” My heart thundered under my ribs as I realized how far we’d strayed from that in only a day.
A college-age kid brought over two baskets with burgers bigger than any I’d ever seen before and enormous piles of fries.
“Holy crap,” I said, staring at my food. “This is . . .”
“Exactly what you wanted?” he asked in return, reaching for a bottle of vinegar.
“Yes, but way more than I can eat.”
“Let’s make this interesting, shall we?” he said. “Whoever eats more of their burger can set new ground rules.”
With a smile, he screwed the cap back on the vinegar and set it down. We both knew he was almost double my weight. No way could I eat more than him.
But was he hungry? Maybe he’d had enough beer to fill up and knew that I would eat more than he would? Or did he want to make the rules?
“Christ, woman. Stop thinking,” he said, lifting his burger and taking a gigantic bite.
“Fine. Deal,” I said, suddenly dying to know what Max’s rules would be.
I stared at Max as he wiped his hands on a napkin and then balled it up, dropping it into his empty basket.
“That was good,” he mumbled, finally looking up at me. He cracked up at the pathetic progress I’d made. I had managed to polish off only about a quarter of my burger, and it looked like I had barely touched my fries.
Dropping the burger back into the basket, I groaned. “I’m so full.”
“I won.”
“Was there any question?”
“Then why’d you take the deal?” he asked, pushing his chair away from the table. “You could have said no.”
I shrugged, then stood, turning to leave before he pressed me to answer. I could be curious about what he wanted between us, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to admit it.
My beer buzz from earlier in the day was wearing off, and with the weight of the burger in my stomach I could have curled up on the sidewalk and gone to sleep. But it was only half-past eight, and I wasn’t ready for the night to end. The idea of waiting until Friday to see him felt impossible . . . unless he changed that rule.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and walked over to him.
The lines had blurred. After today, I couldn’t pretend I wanted nothing from him beyond orgasms. I couldn’t pretend that my heart didn’t twist deliciously when I saw him, or twist with discomfort when I left. I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t have feelings for him.
I wondered if it was too late to flee.
It was only when I heard his laugh that I realized I’d been staring, my mouth open slightly, and he’d been watching me for . . . I have no idea how long. A smile tilted up half of his mouth.
“You look pretty excited for this beer.” He pushed a pint across the table and held up his own. “I took the liberty of ordering you a burger the size of your head, and some chips.” He grinned and then clarified, “A.k.a. ‘fries.’ ”
“Perfect. Thanks.” I set my purse on an empty chair and sat across from him. His eyes smiled, and then dipped to look at my lips.
“So,” I said, sipping my beer and assessing him over the rim.
“So.”
He looked positively amused with this turn of events. I wasn’t a control freak, but I was used to having a pretty predictable life, and in the past two months, I hadn’t been able to anticipate anything that had come my way. “Thanks for inviting me to the bar today.”
He nodded, scratching the back of his neck. “Thanks for coming.”
“Your friends are nice.”
“They’re a bunch of arseholes.”
I laughed, feeling my shoulders slowly relax. “That’s funny. That’s what they said about you.”
He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I have a question.”
“Yes?”
“Are we on a date?”
I nearly choked on the sip of beer I’d just taken.
“For the love of God, woman, don’t have a fit. I just wonder if you’d like to reestablish ground rules. Should we review our previous set?”
I nodded, pressing a napkin to my lips and mumbling, “Sure.”
He set his drink down and began ticking my rules off on his long fingers. “One night a week, no other lovers, sex preferably in public—definitely not in my bed—pictures are requested, but no faces, no publicity.” He lifted his glass, took a deep drink, and then leaned forward again, whispering, “And nothing between us other than sex. Scratching an itch and all that. Did I capture it all?”
“Sounds about right.” My heart thundered under my ribs as I realized how far we’d strayed from that in only a day.
A college-age kid brought over two baskets with burgers bigger than any I’d ever seen before and enormous piles of fries.
“Holy crap,” I said, staring at my food. “This is . . .”
“Exactly what you wanted?” he asked in return, reaching for a bottle of vinegar.
“Yes, but way more than I can eat.”
“Let’s make this interesting, shall we?” he said. “Whoever eats more of their burger can set new ground rules.”
With a smile, he screwed the cap back on the vinegar and set it down. We both knew he was almost double my weight. No way could I eat more than him.
But was he hungry? Maybe he’d had enough beer to fill up and knew that I would eat more than he would? Or did he want to make the rules?
“Christ, woman. Stop thinking,” he said, lifting his burger and taking a gigantic bite.
“Fine. Deal,” I said, suddenly dying to know what Max’s rules would be.
I stared at Max as he wiped his hands on a napkin and then balled it up, dropping it into his empty basket.
“That was good,” he mumbled, finally looking up at me. He cracked up at the pathetic progress I’d made. I had managed to polish off only about a quarter of my burger, and it looked like I had barely touched my fries.
Dropping the burger back into the basket, I groaned. “I’m so full.”
“I won.”
“Was there any question?”
“Then why’d you take the deal?” he asked, pushing his chair away from the table. “You could have said no.”
I shrugged, then stood, turning to leave before he pressed me to answer. I could be curious about what he wanted between us, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to admit it.
My beer buzz from earlier in the day was wearing off, and with the weight of the burger in my stomach I could have curled up on the sidewalk and gone to sleep. But it was only half-past eight, and I wasn’t ready for the night to end. The idea of waiting until Friday to see him felt impossible . . . unless he changed that rule.
