Page 25 of Dangerous Play

I nodded, sobering up. “Right…”

“If you prefer the dresser, I can empty out a drawer or two,” Max offered, his dark eyes scanning my face. “What’s wrong?”

“Am I supposed to leave clothes here?” I asked, sounding stupid. We were supposed to be dating. Of course I was meant to sleep over and have clothes here. There was no way he was going to come to Westpoint.

“I have a little apartment too with Kaia,” I muttered at last.

Max nodded. “I can come stay there too… but…”

“You have early morning practice,” I finished his sentence.

“Do you have a car?”

“Of course.”

“If not, I can drive you after my practice…”

“How are we supposed to keep this up?”

Max ran his fingers through his messy hair. “If I don’t have a morning practice, we can run together, otherwise if you sleep over, I can drop you off afterwards, and we pick certain afternoons other than weekends when we have designated date nights. On weekends, I can go with you to a party of your choice, unless I have an away game.”

My nerves settled a bit. “This is good…” I muttered. “What about your home games?”

A grimace passed on Max’s face. “I’m not going to force you to come.”

Hurt prickled in my chest. “I’m your girlfriend. Shouldn’t I be wearing your jersey?”

“Yes.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. His dark eyes turned darker as he was imagining something in his head. “You should… if you want.”

“It would be weird if I didn’t go.” I shrugged. “I’m under no obligation to watch Westpoint games. But I’m sure I can convince Kaia to come with me and I’ll get a jersey or an apparel.”

Max shook his head. “I’ll give you mine.”

Those words shouldn’t have made my stomach backflip, but they did. A shiver ran across my body and I smiled at him. “I would really like that.”

“Also, we need to talk about pet names,” Max went on to his next order of business. “I hate ‘babe’ and ‘baby’. I only use it when I’m being sarcastic, and only call me that if you want to piss me off.”

I liked those, but I nodded since Ander also used them, so it was nice exploring something new. “What do… people… exes… call you?”

“Max?” he offered, making me laugh.

“That’s not a pet name, darling.” He grimaced. “Love?”

“Well… unless either of us is British.”

A laugh exploded out of me, and a satisfied grin played on his lips.

“Okay, so I use pet names for you and you just call me Max,” he concluded.

“Not a chance.”

“Then, let’s put a pause on pet names, until one of us comes up with a fitting one for the other,” he offered as a last resort.

“Fine,” I agreed with a smile. “Do you have to approve it?”

“Would be nice, otherwise, I might choke on whatever I’m drinking or eating if you spring it on me out of the blue, and you won’t have a boyfriend.”

“So dramatic.” Max was funny and easy going. It was hard not to like him.

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