“Great,” he mumbles under his breath, taking another sip of his own beer.

He’s been in a weird funk since he and Indie broke up. I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but I miss the goofy guy that he was before. If only he would stop messing around and just admit that he likes her.What, like you?My subconscious asks.That’s not what I’m doing with Max. I just want to make sure that he really wants me before I potentially mess up my relationship with Zeke and have to find a new job.

My subconscious rolls her eyes and I try not to think too much about why I chose to bring Mischa to Club Se7en.Because it’s Max’s club and you wanted to see him.My eyes scan the dark room, straining to see into each dark corner for his dark hair and sea green eyes.

“Who are you looking for?” Mischa asks and I jump. So much for me thinking that I was being discreet.

“No one,” I say but the words come out rushed and I know without looking that Mischa can tell that I’m lying.

“Right,” he drawls and I flip him off, bringing my glass to my lips and looking around one again.

Club Se7en just opened a couple of weeks ago and is already the hottest spot in the city. Max has been telling me that he’ll put my name on the list for weeks and I think that I wanted to test that tonight and see if he really did. I’ll admit, it was kind of cool being able to just breeze right inside instead of waiting in line with everyone else.

“Hey, you two,” a deep voice says from my right and I jerk, biting back a sigh as Max emerges from a door next to us.

He smiles as he walks our way, his eyes raking over me and I try my best not to fidget as I shift closer to Mischa. Mischa holds his hand out to Max to shake and I watch as he reluctantly pulls his eyes away from me to say hello to him.

“Hey, man. Thanks for getting us in here,” Mischa says but Max’s eyes are already back on me and he’s not paying Mischa any attention.

“Hello, Samantha.”

“It’s Sam, MaxWELL,”I snap back. I don’t know why Max insists on calling me Samantha. Probably just to piss me off.

“You look beautiful,” Max says, ignoring what I said and stepping closer to me.

“Yeah, when Mischa said he wanted to take me out tonight, I decided to dress up for him,” I say, the lie coming easy. I smirk at Max, stepping into Mischa’s side and wrapping my arm around his waist.

Mischa chokes on his sip of beer at my words and I want to laugh when I feel him tense ever more when Max shoots him a dirty look. I can tell that Mischa is going to tell him that I’m lying but before he can get the words out, a slinky blonde waitress comes up and taps Max on the shoulder. She whispers in his ear for a minute, pointing to the bar and he nods. I try to ignore the jealousy that courses through me when she touches him.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to see to a problem.”

He looks right at Mischa when he says problem and I stifle another laugh. Mischa looks terrified and I can tell that he wants to tell Max that I’m full of shit so I lay my head against his shoulder and cuddle closer to Mischa. Max’s glare intensifies and I’m pretty sure that he’s about two seconds away from punching Mischa in the face when the blonde waitress tugs on his elbow again.

“I’ll find you later,” he says to me with a stern look.

“Don’t bother. I’ll be occupied.”

A muscle in Max’s jaw ticks as he turns and stalks away. I watch him go, my stomach sinking as he gets further away from me.

“Listen, Sam. I’m flattered, really, but I just don’t see you like-”

“Oh, shut up!” I say as I hit Mischa in the arm. “I just needed him to think I was taken so that he would stop bothering me. I’m for sure not into you like that and everyone knows that you love Indie,” I say, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not in love with Indie!” He growls, his voice coming out loud over the pounding music. “I don’t do love. Anyone who says that they’re in love is a dumb sucker who needs to see a physician about all of these delusions they’re having. I am not, and will never, love someone.”

A distressed gasp comes from behind him and I look over to see Indie standing there. She looks pale, like she was just slapped and part of me wants to slap Mischa for hurting her but we both stand frozen as she turns and bolts into the crowd.

“Way to go, asshole,” I say but I’m not sure that Mischa hears me. He’s too busy staring at where Indie had disappeared.

We leave right after that. Mischa seems distracted and sad as he walks me out to my car and I keep glancing at him, trying to see if he’s alright. He doesn’t say anything as he closes my car door and I watch to make sure that he makes it to his car okay before I pull out of the lot.

I make it back to my apartment a few minutes later and walk up the stairs slowly. What am I doing? How can I judge Mischa for not admitting that he loves Indie when I can’t even admit that I like Max. I keep pushing him away and then praying that he comes back.What the hell is wrong with me?

I’m just closing my apartment door behind me when a hand comes out and slams against the wood. I jerk back a step, eyes wide as the door swings open. Max stands there, his face tight as he looks past me into my apartment.

“Is he here?” He growls.

“Who?”