It was a little past nine o’clock that same night when I got to the fairly new bar in the West Village that I was supposed to be meeting Max at.

Based solely on the name of the place, I already knew I would like it.

It was called Lounge.

That’s it. Simple and to the point.

On any other day of the week, I would be pretty excited about doing the legwork that tonight would involve. But after the day I’d had today, I already knew it just wasn’t going to turn out well. Like I had a strong underlying sense of impending doom in the pit of my stomach that pulsed and grew stronger with every step closer I took to the front door. I had tried to shake it off during the subway ride here, but no dice. Stupid Taylor Swift, your advice sucks, I thought to myself.

I didn’t like leaving my apartment tonight knowing my little brother hadn’t made it home yet either. I told my grandmother to text me as soon as he arrived, though. So hopefully, within the next hour, I would get some good news. Because whoever came up with that saying, “no news is good news,” was an asshole. I needed news, dammit. And I needed it now!

On the plus side, I didn’t have to wait to get into place. There was no line outside…yet. Then again, it was relatively early for it to be too busy. With no wait, came no bouncer, so I strolled right in. As soon as I was inside, it felt as if I had been transported to a different time and place. The décor, the music, the lighting; it was all like something right out of an episode of Mad Men. In the back of my mind, I hoped to turn a corner and run into Don Draper himself, but no such luck. Instead, I quickly spotted Max sitting by himself on mid-century modern couch up against the far wall. I smiled at the sight of him and tried to hide it immediately just in case he caught it. Grudgingly, I had to admit he looked really good sitting there. Like he owned the place, like he was untouchable, like he didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of him or said to him.

I aspired to be like that most of the time. But I could never get to the I-don’t-give-a-damn-what-people-thought-of-me-level no matter how hard I tried. And I think that was my biggest problem; I shouldn’t have to try so hard to be that carefree. Max Allen, on the other hand, he looked like he would fit right in in any place, at any time, and looked damn good doing it.

Not a beat later, Max spotted me across the not-at-all crowded room. Once he saw me, he was tracking my every move towards him. More than that, I was keenly aware of how much I liked the feeling of his eyes on me. And as quickly as that thought popped into my head, I brushed it aside and started to beat myself up for thinking of it for all of a second.

Girl, don’t even go there. He’ll chew you up and spit you out. Plus, you can’t stand him anyway, right?

“Yep, you idiot,” I answered myself quietly like a crazy person.

Once I was within arm’s reach of Max, he patted the spot next to him on the couch. His usually dark eyes were light with amusement as he waggled his eyebrows. “Saved you a spot.”

As I sat down I had to keep myself from smiling at his…his…I didn’t even know exactly. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was about Max if I tried. But I couldn’t let on that I enjoyed it even a little bit. My armor went right back up and I made my face go slack of any emotion. Because the last thing I needed was to have Max think I liked him. And like was even too strong of a word to describe it because the feeling was teeny-tiny, so inconsequential really that it wasn’t worth exploring.

“What did I do now?” he asked.

“Nothing, why?”

“Because your face looks like someone took a shit in your best pair of shoes.”

“That’s super descriptive, so thanks for that.”

“Then I’m not in trouble?”

“No, you’re not in ‘trouble.’ What are you twelve or something?”

He chuckled. “No, but my brothers have no problem reminding me daily how I’m the baby of the family. You have a brother, right?”

“Yeah and he’s currently working my last nerve.”

With the mention of my little brother, I anxiously pulled out my cellphone from my wristlet to see if I had missed an update. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. The little shit still wasn’t home.

I shot Eddie a quick text:

Abuela is waiting up for you. Please let her know you’re okay.

Pressing send, I could feel Max staring at me. It was that intense. And I hated how a slight blush hit my cheeks knowing he was still watching my every move.

“Take a picture it’ll last longer.”

“Damn, you’re mean.”

I sighed, because I wasn’t actually a mean person. At least I didn’t think so. I think it was more that I was trying to protect myself from liking this banter between us anymore than I should.

“Max, I’m not mean, I’m just—”

“Meanie.” He caught me so off guard with this that I giggled. Then he waved a hand in the direction of the bartender. With some sign language between them, they had a silent conversation that I think involved ordering of drinks. “I’m getting you an alcoholic beverage.”

Laughing a little at the way he was so formal about it, I said to him, “You know we’re not supposed to be drinking on the job, Max. That’s not being very professional. So thanks but no thanks.”

“Relax, you little rule follower. Plus, rules are always made to be broken.”

“No, Max, they’re not. In fact, it’s the complete opposite because rules are there to be followed. Without rules there would be—”

“Anarchy?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and his lips curling up in a fiendish smile.

“Yes, exactly that. Thank you.”

He was good at keeping my thoughts preoccupied with stupid things that didn’t involve my little brother and his non-response. Because during the time we were going back and forth, our drinks had arrived much to my dismay. The bartender must have placed the two tiny shot glasses filled with clear liquid in front of us and left without making a peep.

As I looked at the shots, I told him, “Nice try, but I don’t do shots. Definitely not tequila shots.”

Max all but ignored me and said, “Bullshit,” under his breath.

“Seriously, I don’t really drink. Especially when I’m working. Which, hello, we’re supposed to be working, aren’t we?”

“We are working, Daphne, in case you didn’t notice.”

Rolling my eyes, I pulled my gaze away from Max and glanced around the lounge. Since I had arrived, a few more people had too. They were crowding the bar now and the surrounding seating areas. Suddenly someone had dimmed the lights to create more of a mellow vibe. It worked and I liked it a lot. All that was left were some small fairy type lights that were strung across and over all the exposed beams of the ceiling. And then as if on cue, the volume of the calm and cool jazz playing low in the background had been raised. People’s heads started to bob in time to the smooth beats, and a relaxed warm feel feeling over the entire lounge that made you feel like a baby being tucked into a bed at night.

“Here you go, you big meanie,” Max said in a smooth voice. He held the shot glass of tequila between us like he was silently daring me.

I could have sworn he was closer to me, or maybe it was the low lighting that made it seem that way. Even now with his face in a slight shadow, it was still obvious to even a blind woman that he was easily the most handsome man in the room. And it was also more than evident that Max knew that as well. I wish that fact could less amuse me too.

“Fine, but I don’t want you to think I’m a pushover. I’m only drinking this so you can shut up for a little while.”

“Of course,” he said with a laugh. “To our pseudo relationship.”

“Don’t remind me,” I groaned.

We clinked our shot glasses and without hesitating, I brought the evil alcohol up to my lips and swallowed it in one painful gulp. The back of my throat burned already with regret as Max watched me. If he had any trouble taking the shot, it didn’t show at all.

The big jerk.

“That was gross,” I said and licked my lips. “Never again.”

“That’s what they all say.”

I smiled a little and let the alcohol warm me. The vibe in the room helped to relax me, too, as well as the music.

My phone buzzed, and as I went to pull it out of my wristlet again, Max grabbed it.

“Give it back!”

Max was holding it out of reach and started to read the screen. “Someone named Eddie texted you saying he’s home and to stop being such a pain in the ass all the time.”

I froze. “He called me a pain in the ass?! I’m going to kick his ass when I get home! I mean, who the hell does that little shit think he is?! It’s just a little thing called respect. It’s not that hard is it?! But I guess for some people it’s impossible to have common decency. And our poor grandmother has been worried sick about him and he’s telling me to stop being a pain in the ass?! Unbelievable!”

“Wow! First of all, I made up the part about being a pain the ass. But now that I see you all wound up, I’m wondering if it’s true.” He handed me back the phone with a smirk. “Relax, Daphne. Maybe you should have another drink.”

“God, you’re such an asshole, Max.”

“I try.”

Scrolling through my texts, I was relieved to confirm that Max was in fact adding the whole pain in the ass part to Eddie’s text. But more to my relief was that he was home, safe and sound. And my abuela was probably lighting a candle…or ten in his name, and in my name, and in whoever else’s name she could think of before she went to bed. Hopefully the apartment wouldn’t be burnt to the ground when I got home later.

It was just one more thing to add to my ever-growing plate of crap that was piling up by the minute. Just thinking about all the shit I had going on was exhausting. On instinct, I rolled my neck to stretch and attempt to crack it. It wouldn’t because I could feel the huge ass knot due to stress and anxiety on the left side of where my neck met my shoulder. Rolling my neck to the other side didn’t help either as it made me wince with a twinge of pain from the tightness.

And then…

Oh dear God in heaven.

Hands started to rub at my shoulders and neck with such dexterity and preciseness that it must have been a dream. Or I was dead and had gone up to heaven.

For a few blissful seconds, I was luxuriating in the feeling of being on the receiving end of the world’s best massage. But then a Max’s voice spoke in a voice as sinful and decadent as dark chocolate melting on my tongue and the spell was broken.

“Relax, Daphne. Let me make you feel good.”

The hell?! My body straightened and I moved at least a full body length away from him. He was chuckling at my expense.

“Who did you think it was?” he asked while still laughing. His hands were already on the move again searching for my shoulders. And for the love of god, I wanted to let him. “I promise, I won’t bite. Hard.”

“Hardy, har-har, Mr. Powers. Thanks, but no thanks.”

I shouldn’t let him. Right?

Maybe?

Dammit, it really felt good. And I really wanted to relax just a little bit more.

I could feel my resolve withering away with every passing second. The music, the lighting, the mood, the one shot of tequila, the way Max looked as if he was dying to get his hands on me and I wanted for just a moment to revel in that feeling no matter how much I hated him. All of it was too much for me to handle…but I was going to give in anyway.