Page 26 of French Kiss

“I literally proved to her that I can do that when we went stand-up paddle boarding in Carmel.”

“Ha ha. I can’t believe you took time off work for her.”

“Why?” he asked.

“It’s just, we get so little time off, and you’re always talking about how you miss your family. I’d just have thought you’d combine all your vacay time and go visit them.”

“Did it ever occur to you that part of the reason I miss them is because I don’t see them very often? I’d hate to spoil the romance of my family life with the reality that we might not get along as well as I’m remembering.” He often talked about his family in glowing terms, making them sound like a warm clan of five brothers and a mother whom they all doted on because she was the only female influence in their lives and they owed everything they’d become to her upbringing. At least, that was how Maddox had put it once.

“I guess that makes sense. So why is it not going anywhere?” I asked.

“She’s younger. I just get the feeling she’s more invested than I am.”

“Then you should end it before she gets even more attached. Be fair to her. She doesn’t know you only have two months of patience for dating a single person.”

He looked at me and nodded, his face breaking into a slow smile. “You’re totally right. I need to end it.” He ran a finger over his lower lip like he was figuring out how to tell her.

It was hard to look at those lips without feeling my insides explode, so I went to the living room. Once I sat on the couch, I felt my eyes zero in on the TV like a zombie, exhausted from my week and not yet able to motivate myself to walk home to my apartment a half mile away.

“You look like you’ve been sucked into the vortex,” he said, observing me from the doorway of the kitchen.

“I can’t move… well, I can move, but I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to. You can even stay here. The couch opens to a bed.”

I already knew that because I’d slept on it a couple of times when my parents came to visit. I insisted they stay in my apartment while I crashed with Josh and Maddox so they could have the run of my tiny place—and its crazy bathroom. My parents didn’t have a lot of money, and two flights from Minnesota to San Francisco weren’t cheap, so I wanted to make the place nice for them when they came. I put out flowers and a bottle of champagne like they were being welcomed to a fine hotel suite, and I’d even laid out a tray on the bed with bottled water and maps of the city so they could sightsee while I was at work.

I felt a pang of desire, not to sleep on the sofa bed, but to sleep with Maddox in his bed. My breath caught in my throat as I tried to control my racing heart which was telling me to say something sultry and seductive that would bring Maddox to his knees. Instead, the rational side of my brain kicked in.

“Thanks. But I’ll make my way home in a minute. Am I keeping you up?” I grabbed my phone to look at the time. It was almost midnight. “Oh geez, I didn’t realize it was this late.”

“Late? You’re talking to a guy who just downed an espresso at midnight. I don’t know the difference between late and early,” he said. He popped open a can of flavored sparkling water and took a sip. “You want one?”

“Nah. Thanks,” I said, struggling to extract myself from the comfortable plush of the couch and propel myself toward home. Unlike Josh, Maddox and I had shifts that started in the afternoon that week, so I might indulge the chance to sleep in for once. I was exhausted. Despite my efforts to push myself to standing, I found myself hopelessly happy on that couch.

Ricardo crept back into the room and Maddox picked him up in one hand and put him on a chair. Somehow, seeing his strong hand move the cat so definitively, like he was used to having things his way, was a surprising turn-on.

“You really don’t have to leave,” Maddox said, dropping into an overstuffed chair. “I’m kind of wired from the coffee. Not going to bed for a while.” He was looking at me again with that smile and those eyes that seemed to say anything could happen if I took a few steps closer to him. I stared back into his eyes, a little bit mesmerized.

“Why do you drink it at night if you know it’s gonna keep you up?” I asked.

“Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t. I never know what it’s going to do. So I just drink it because I like it.”

“Sounds logical, but I wouldn’t take the risk.”

“Makes sense. You’re not a risk-taker at heart,” he said. It felt like a criticism.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I take risks.”

“You do not. You follow the path you know will lead you to the place you want to go. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

He was one hundred percent right. I just hadn't thought he was paying that much attention. His statement didn’t feel like a judgement. It was more like he just knew me and wanted to explain that there was no need for pretense. He intrigued me, partly just because I could never really get a handle on who he was. The impression kept changing.

“Hey. You fall asleep over there?” Maddox asked, and I realized I’d gone into my head and pretty much forgotten he was there. He put down his can of water and leaned back in his chair.

“Almost. Yeah, you’re right. I don’t take risks.”

“No, you don’t. But it’s okay. The world needs steady people like you.” He was gazing at me the way I’d always hoped he would, like maybe he felt the delicious burn of desire that I felt when I looked at him. He nodded faintly, like we were in synch.

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