Page 45 of The Ruthless and the Strong

I picked my memory to remember what I had put on this morning. Some black sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt that I had worn to bed. I didn’t even think I had brushed my hair, nor was I wearing a bra.

Kill. Me. Now.

A bigger wind picked up and I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Cute,” he said.

I wrinkled my nose at him and he laughed. “I’m serious.”

The sucky part about this was, I was sure he meant it. He thought I looked cute this morning. Not sexy or beautiful.

Not that I blamed him. It wasn’t like I put in that much effort in my looks.

He held out a finger for me.

“Wait for me?”

I mutely nodded.

I would wait for him forever if he’d let me.

Max quickly moved to the side gate of his house, where I was sure he kept his trash bin in the backyard.It didn't take him long to come back, and then he was standing in front of me, no more than six inches of space separating us. All I had to do was hold out my hands, and I could have them pressed against those defined abs.

Despite the fact that it had been years since he played ice hockey in college, Max still kept up his athletic build. He was one of the fittest men I knew, and—I had never seen him naked, or shirtless, for that matter—but I sure he was still built like a professional player.

“Lizzie?”

“Hmm? Yeah?” I asked dreamily. I shook myself out of my thoughts, a blush covering my cheeks when I realized he had been trying to get my attention for a while. Max looked at me with expressionless eyes, but he had crossed his arms, and casually covered his mouth with one hand.

I narrowed my eyes. He was amused. And was probably laughing at me.

“Did you say something?”

I knew I’d guessed right when he removed his hand and I caught the end of a smile on his lip. “I asked what you were doing, standing out here?”

“Oh.” I looked down and toed the ground. “I ran out of coffee. At home. And Mason and Olivia went out on a family thing with Emma. And Hunter’s at my mom’s house.”

And fuck, I missed you.

I didn’t say that, though, no matter how badly the words burned on my tongue.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, then he held out his hand. I looked questioningly at it, but he didn’t offer any more, and it took me a beat to realize he was offering his hand. My blush deepened and I slowly placed my much smaller hand in his big, warm one.

Everything about Max was big. Aside from Mason, who probably only had an inch on him, Max was the biggest man I had ever met, and that was including my own father.

He led me back to his house, and I liked the fact that he was still holding my hand, even though he didn’t have to.

There wasn't really a reason for it, especially since he wasn’t anything to me, but I wouldn’t say anything to that. I couldn’t really remember the last time a man held my hand. It had been about two years since Sam and I had been intimate, let alone held each other’s hand.

We walked through the warm house and Max led me straight to the kitchen. He moved over to the barstool, and as I sat, he moved to the coffee pot and made some coffee.

His back was turned to me as he watched the pot, and I watched him, my eyes tracing over every curve, every muscle on his back, as my fingers twitched with the urge to touch him. My eyes moved down to his butt, and I really, really loved the jeans he wore.

Max turned around suddenly, and I didn’t have time to look away. My eyes jumped up to meet his, and I could read the amusement clear in his blue eyes.

I couldn’t deny the fact that I had been checking him out even if I tried, so I didn’t. I tilted my chin up as if daring him to say something. He didn’t say anything to that, though his smile widened.

I didn’t even notice the full mug of coffee in his hand until he placed it in front of me.

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