Page 41 of Wrong Idea

“I don’t mean it that way.” He shook his head. “You’re the best and biggest surprise I could have ever had. I knew it the moment I walked in, and then I froze. It was the end of the massage, and I couldn’t figure out how to ask for your phone number without sounding like some kind of creep. I didn’t even know you worked for The Crown in that moment.”

His arms dropped, and I missed his embrace immediately. I shivered, feeling chilly for the first time since I’d woken up. I watched as he stepped back and reached into his back pocket to bring out his wallet.

“What are you doing?” I asked and watched as he opened it and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill.

“This is the bill you gave me. I kept it in my wallet because it was something you gave me.”

“That was supposed to be your tip since you didn’t let me pay for my massage, which now I guess I know why.” I shrugged, and he nodded.

“Princess, when I found out you worked here, yeah, it freaked me out. I won’t lie,” he admitted. “I have never, not once, got involved with an employee. I never wanted to be that cliché.”

“No offense, but maybe that’s more of an everyone else not being interested in getting involved with a jerk and less of a your choice kinda thing?” His lips twitched, and something in my shoulders relaxed.

“I wish.” He sighed. “My assistant is a pain in the ass who has been trying to talk me into taking her to dinner since about three days after I hired her. That’s who I was trying to avoid when I slipped into your room.”

“Oh.” I chewed on my lower lip trying to think of who his assistant was. I didn’t like someone trying to get him to notice her.Is this what jealousy feels like?Probably. Especially if it made me want to yank her hair and poke her eyeballs for daring to look at what was mine.Mine? Is being possessive contagious?

“I love you, Max. I messed up. Crossed lines I shouldn’t have. I own that.”

“Good.” I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest, more than aware of just how little I was wearing beneath the plush bathrobe.

“I let you get the wrong idea of me,” he said with the utmost sincerity and exactly what I needed to hear. But if that was the case, why did I feel torn?

Did I have the wrong idea about who Carver Storm was?

Or did I actually get to know the man under the designer suits?

“Okay.” I shrugged.

“Okay?”

“I accept your apology,” I found myself saying and meaning every word. “I forgive you.”

“Just like that?” I licked my lips and took a step back. As much as everything inside of me was yelling at me to give him a chance, to give us a chance, years of only counting on myself were fighting back.

“What does that mean for us, Max?” he asked, somehow knowing that I was erecting walls around my heart as we stood in front of one another.

“What us? We…” I paused, not sure of what to say. I knew what I wanted. My body and heart were yelling at me to take a chance. To give in and see where things would go with Carver Storm. I glanced around the room and then down to the floor. “Beautiful, talk to me.”

“We’re too different, Car, I mean Carver. Or Mr. Storm? I’m not even sure what to call you.”

“Yours,” he hissed. “I’m yours and, baby, we’re not. You know me,” he stressed. “When I was with you?—“

“I know. And I get that, I do, but… at the end of the day, you’re penthouses and own hotels. I’m a studio apartment and sell coloring books.”

“Baby—“

“You wear“—I pointed up and down at his outfit—“I mean that right there is probably more than my whole closet combined and multiplied by two.”

“So? Who cares about that? I sure as fuck don’t, baby.”

“I just… maybe we can be friends or something?” I smiled tightly, and I could see the stubborn way his lips set. He wanted to argue with me but didn’t know if he should. “I’ll keep working in the laundry room, and you keep… you know, doing what you do, and maybe if our paths cross… well, they cross.”

“Are you telling me we’re over?”

“We didn’t do too much. You didn’t let us, and now… I don’t know, Carver. I think I need time.” He took one long step forward and pulled me close to him.

“Daddy is only giving you some space because of how much I messed up, Max,” he growled, “But don’t think for one fucking second that you and I are over.”

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