Normally, Max would relax on Sunday nights. Either settled on his couch watching whatever Sunday night flick was on or reading whatever book he had picked up from the top 100 picks from the Dymocks bookstore close to his office. There wasn’t a real system to what he read. Every year, he had the store employee save him a copy of the list, and he’d pick randomly which book to read. His target was to read at least one book a month. But this year, he had only read four. The books he had chosen were good, but they didn’t challenge or provoke him the way he wished. Max knew that next year he’d forgo the top list and try to read every book nominated for the Man Booker Prize Award instead.

But this particular Sunday was different.

He hadn’t worked on a Sunday night since his first year of placement at his father’s firm. Even then, it wasn’t hard, pressurising work. Max’s father’s case would go to court tomorrow morning, and Max was working through the night to make sure the prosecution couldn’t object to their key argument. That the defendant’s wife was not dead but in hiding after falsifying her death and framing her husband. Max was sure that the contract imbedded in the countless emails was the key evidence the defence needed to ensure their client was found not guilty. His father had even hired a leading expert in code as their key witness.

Max’s job was to make sure none of the evidence was circumstantial and could be dismissed by the judge. Max never intended on doing that task, considering he never wanted anything to do with criminal cases. But his father needed his help, and Max had recently learnt to appreciate the man he was. Gordon Sheridan was the best lawyer in the state for a reason. Though he could scare any veteran in the business, he worked hard to get the right outcome.

And for the very first time, Gordon had come to Max for help.

Max couldn’t let him down.

A ping from his MacBook had him glancing up from the printed emails he had in his hands. Max noticed the red balloon on his mail app and twisted in his seat to reach for his laptop to bring it closer. He wasn’t expecting any emails at this time of the night.

“Except …” he said as his heart filled with joy.

Josephine.

She was the only person who would email him on a Sunday night. He knew she had her contracts tutorials and lectures on Monday, and he presumed she needed his help with this week’s current readings. He didn’t mind that he hadn’t heard from her since their kiss outside her apartment.

The very kiss that changed everything.

His heart.

His wants and needs.

His idea of a future.

They all included Josephine Faulkner.

He had wanted it even before she had pulled his lips to hers and coerced every fibre in him to only ever want her.

Max had walked away that night to give them both time to think. And as the hours turned into days, it only had him desperately longing for her in ways he hadn’t before.

No woman made him feel this way.

No woman made him miss her smile the way Josie did.

No woman made him miss her heart.

No woman made him love the way Josie could.

No one but Josie.

Excitement bled through him as he pressed on his emails and opened them, ready to answer every question she sent his way.

But the moment he saw the unread email, his heart stopped.

The euphoria of his new love for Josie came to a halt as he saw Andrea’s email waiting for him.

Max’s breathing heaved as he noticed it was an email from her personal account and not her work address.

A cold sweat blanketed him as he hovered the cursor over her name.

His head told him to delete it.

To forget her completely.

But a small piece of his heart wanted closure.

Max wasn’t sure if he should trust that small piece; the piece he hadn’t let Josephine touch for fear she’d make it hers.

Swallowing the large lump in his throat, he decided that in order to be fair and love Josephine honestly as he declared, he had to let Andrea go. He had to have closure. Those remaining feelings would have to dissipate into the void of all the other disappointments he had faced in his life.

So he clicked on the email and read the first words she had sent to him in months.

 

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: All the things I should have said.

 

Max,

I’m sorry this email took a long time to get to you. I’ll be the first to admit I handled everything completely wrong.

I let my pride overshadow my feelings for you.

I couldn’t get myself to reply. I’m so sorry, Max. I read your emails, and they hurt me. You poured your heart out to me, and I exited your emails and disregarded your feelings.

My boss told me that you’d be working in the law department in Boston and I’ll be one of your supervisors when I return from Florida.

You’re probably wondering why I moved to Florida. Well, I just couldn’t see him happy. I had hoped that when Noel went after her, she married her fiancé. I hoped that when he returned from Hong Kong for the expansion that he’d realize he really did love me more than he loved her.

But I didn’t think he could break my heart more than when I found out he married her. I wanted to be happy for them. I really did, Max.

I loved Noel.

I thought he was it.

I thought I would marry him.

New York changed everything.

I kissed you.

I cheated on him even when I didn’t have his whole heart.

I felt sick after it happened because I felt more with you than I did with him.

Because I knew that kiss was true, and the kisses and touches he gave me were desperate attempts to forget her.

I was so angry with you for making me feel that.

I was so angry with Noel for loving another woman while he was with me.

I hated Clara for marrying the man I loved.

And I hated myself for not having the courage to face you the most.

I shouldn’t have made you go all those months without hearing from me. I just needed to start new. Without knowing that my boyfriend married another only months after I broke up with him. I needed to be away from him and people who knew what happened. I needed to be away so I could hate without hurting his marriage.

I needed to be away from you the most, Max.

I needed time to think of what one kiss meant.

One kiss.

That was it.

It was just one kiss.

And you and I both knew it wasn’t enough.

But I was Noel’s.

He might not have been mine, but I was his.

And for a brief minute under that tree, I was yours.

Completely yours.

And now, I have to face the fact that I have to work in the same building as the man who fell out of love with me.

A married man.

I still want him.

I still love him.

I still desire to have him leave her for me.

To return to me.

But I only have these feelings because of my pride.

I was made a fool.

And what was worse was that I blamed you.

You, Max.

Innocent, sweet, loving you.

You did nothing but care for me.

And I’m so sorry I wasted that.

So here I am, writing you this confusing email because hearing that I might see you again made me feel all those emotions I felt under that tree.

I want to see you.

I want the chance to have everything you offered me.

I’m so sorry, Max.

Please forgive me for being so selfish.

I let my pride cost me you.

Give me a chance to redeem myself.

Yours,

Andrea.

 

That was it.

All the words he had ever wanted to hear from her.

And that small piece of him that still cared for her burst within him and took his heart with its explosion.

The pain and misery opened his wounds.

The same wounds Josie had soothed and healed.

Andrea helped destroy him.

Josie healed him and made him her equal.

There was a difference between the two.

Andrea might claim a piece of him.

But Josie owned not only his heart but also his mind.

She gave him a brighter outlook on life where he was deserving.

Where he could be her hero and not the villain.

Being Josie’s hero meant finding a way to forget Andrea Wallace.

And Max knew to forget her was never to reply to her.

After all, ignorance is bliss.

At nine a.m., Max was sitting in the first row behind his father and his client in the Supreme court. In Gordon Sheridan’s opening statement, he had labelled Andrew Walsh a loving husband who loved his wife more than money or possession. He went on to tell the jury that Andrew was a man who dedicated his life to his wife’s happiness and couldn’t be held responsible for his wife’s death. Gordon went on to say that Andrew missed his wife and buried an empty coffin and couldn’t be tried for murder if one didn’t even occur. At the end of his opening statement, Max’s father stated that the truth would be revealed in court. That Andrew Walsh had been framed, and his wife was still alive.

After eleven a.m., a short recess was called after the prosecution had finished questioning the medical examiner. The ME who testified stated the amount of blood found on the kitchen floor was sufficient blood loss to be considered a homicide, and that nothing in the blood tested proved that any tampering had occurred.

“It’s not looking good, Gordon,” Andrew stated, fear and anxiety written on his face as he and Gordon turned to face Max.

Max got up from the row and nodded at his father. “You did well,” Max said.

“He did?” Andrew asked, sceptical.

“Mr Walsh, I can assure you that you have the best defence lawyer in the country. My father knows exactly what to do when he cross examines the ME. It’s only the first day of your trial.”

Andrew nodded, but the concern in his eyes hadn’t faded. “Will you still be here after the recess? Could really use a friend, Max.”

“I just have to step out to make a phone call.” Max had nodded at them both before he made his way down the aisle and then towards the court doors.

He needed fresh air. How his father was able to sit in a courtroom with stale air was beyond him. Max was glad he hadn’t followed in his father’s footsteps and pursued a career in criminal law.

Once Max had made it through the arched doors and exited the Supreme courthouse, he went down the short steps until he stepped onto the footpath of William Street. He took a deep breath. The fresh air worked wonders for his lungs and his mild headache.

Reaching into the pocket of his suit jacket, he pulled out his phone to find several missed calls and text messages. He unlocked it to find a few from a number he didn’t recognise, some from Julian, one from Noel, and even a text message from Alex.

But no call or text message from Josie.

It was Monday.

He had hoped that three days would be long enough for her to think about them being together.

What if giving her space was all the time she needed to realise we shouldn’t be together?

That they should just be friends.

Friends.

The one word he hated when it came to Josephine Faulkner.

They might have started out as friends, but he wanted more.

Desperately wanted more.

The small recess would end soon, and Max would have to go through security once more before returning to the courtroom. So he would have to reply to his best friends once his day in court had ended. Being supportive of his father had cost him an entire day’s worth of his own work, but the opening day was the most important day of the trial.

Max opened the mail app on his phone and swiped his thumb down to refresh it. Several new emails appeared, and he was shocked to find another message from Andrea.

Curious, he opened it, choosing to read hers rather than the others sent to him since he entered the courtroom.

 

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: The apology that is almost a year too late.

 

Max,

I deserve no reply from you.

Last night, I reread your emails.

I read your pain, and I am so sorry I hurt you.

You chose me.

And it took me a long time to realise just how special that declaration was.

You chose me.

He chose her.

I chose you too late and went to Orlando instead of telling you that.

I was scared another man would hurt me.

You made a lot of promises.

I believed them.

But I also believed Noel when he said he loved me.

I now know that I made the mistake of comparing you to him.

Because I get why he fell in love with Clara.

I get why he made her his wife.

She understands him.

I saw the wedding pictures, and seeing them as bride and groom was all I needed to see.

I’m choosing you, Max.

It’s been over a year since you last kissed me.

It’s been over a year since I last saw you.

Please come to Boston.

Please let me explain myself in person.

I treated you wrong when all you did was try to treat me right.

I’m sorry, Max.

Yours,

Andrea.

 

Just as he exited her message, he received another. And to his disappointment, it was from Andrea and not Josie.

 

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: I made such a terrible mistake.

 

I did.

And I have so much regret.

Please write me back.

Yours,

Andrea.

 

Regret was such a powerful word.

And Andrea was a powerful woman.

He had been attracted to her strength and ambitions. He had been attracted to her need to prove herself. They shared many traits.

Regret being one of them.

And right now, as he stood outside the Supreme Court of Victoria, he had one.

He regretted the fact he was tempted to reply and tell her all the lies that had been truths many months ago.

That he still wanted her.

“Don’t you think drinks are a bit pre-emptive?” Max asked with a hint of humour in his tone.

His father chuckled. “It was a good day in court.”

Max nodded. For him, it would be his last until the final day of court. His father had a whole team who would be there for support if he needed it. Max had made sure his findings were all catalogued and in order for his father. The emails were already submitted into evidence and were available for the prosecution. But so far, they hadn’t put it together that the contract for hire was carefully imbedded in the wife’s emails. Unfortunately for his father, the cyber experts hadn’t been able to locate exactly where the receiver of those emails was. The IP addresses bounced through several different countries, and it was taking some time to pinpoint the exact location. Whoever the wife had hired was a professional.

“There are many days in court left,” Max tried to reason.

“So you won’t be joining us? The others are already on their way there.”

Max shook his head. “I have a lot of work to catch up on. A few redrafts I need to look at.”

“Don’t stay too late, all right?” It surprised Max that his father seemed to care about how long he spent at the office. It used to be that Max never spent enough time, but now it seemed the opposite.

“I won’t,” he promised.

His father set his hand on Max’s shoulder and then squeezed it. “The past few weeks, I’ve never been more proud to call you my son. You’ve really come into your own.”

And before Max could even respond to his father’s rare compliment, his father spun around and made his way towards the waiting black BMW. One of the perks of being the state’s most sought-after lawyer was being able to afford a car service. However, Max enjoyed driving his Porsche. It was one of the only luxuries he had ever indulged in.

His father was proud of him.

Proud of the lawyer he was.

For the first time, Max felt as if he were worthy of being proud of.

His life had changed since he sat across from Josephine Faulkner that night her father had stood her up for dinner. It was at the same restaurant Max had taken her to on Thursday night. The same restaurant where his ex-whatever-she-was begged him not to love Josie. And the same restaurant they had left and ended up sharing their first kiss and confessions.

He had hoped Monday was enough time for her to decide.

But as Max pulled his phone out from his jacket pocket with one hand and tightened his grip on his briefcase handle with the other, he realised that it wasn’t enough time.

It was already after four p.m.

Monday was almost finished.

Her time to think would rollover to Tuesday, and Max was terrified that it would continue for days to come. If not weeks. And that frightened him. He hadn’t seen her for fifteen days before their rain check dinner, and he was already missing her. Any more days and he’d do something drastic.

Like demand an answer.

Max walked into Gordon Sheridan Lawyers to find Ruby, the receptionist, behind the desk with a smile on her face.

“Good afternoon, Mr Sheridan,” she greeted as he walked past her and headed towards the elevators.

“Afternoon, Ruby,” he had said before he stopped in front of the elevator. Max reached forward and pressed the up button.

When the elevator opened, he stepped inside and pressed his floor’s button. Once the doors closed, he unlocked his phone and brought up Josie’s contact. His thumb hovered over the call icon as the steel box ascended. He wanted to talk to her.

He wanted feelings shared and expressed.

He wanted mutual love with her.

She might only like him, but he hoped someday that like turned into so much more than just love.

The ding of the elevator reaching his floor had him glancing up from his phone. He stepped off the elevator and headed towards his office. On his way, he walked past several of the junior lawyers and interns. They had all addressed him as Mr Sheridan, and he nodded and said hello. Max would have to ask HR for their files to find out their names and their background. He would make an effort to get to know them and give them the chance at forming a work connection. So that if they ever needed help, they could approach him without any fear of repercussion.

When Max reached his office, he pulled his set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He pushed the glass door open and stepped inside his office. Max approached his desk and noticed a pink box on it. He stepped around the desk, set his briefcase on the floor, and slipped his phone into his dress pants pocket.

The pink box had a white ribbon wrapped around it with a bow on top. Curious, he pulled his office chair out and then lowered himself down to sit on it. Max squinted at the box as he set his hands on it and pulled it closer. Taking in the box, he saw no indicator of who it could be from. Max was used to gifts from his clients. Some he would send back because they were too grand, and others he had donated. But he had no idea which of his clients would send him a pink box.

Max reached up and grasped one of the ribbon ends. He pulled on it until the bow untied and Max could pull the white ribbon away from the box. Then he grasped the lid and lifted it up.

He let out a light laugh at the sight of four cupcakes.

Max knew these rare cupcakes.

They were his favourite from the Little Bakery on Little Collins Street.

His heart clenched at the sight of them. Only one person knew his favourite cupcake.

Josephine.

She had a box of banana and Walnut Whip cupcakes delivered to him. As he lifted the lid a little higher, he noticed something stuck on the inside of the lid.

It was an envelope.

Max pulled it off and let the lid rest against his desk. Then he picked up the box and set it away from him. He took in the small, rectangular white envelope to find his name beautifully written across it. He flipped it over, ripped the envelope open, and pulled out its contents.

His brows furrowed the moment he saw that it was Josie’s business cards.

Why would she send me her business cards?

He stared at the stack of cards.

Then it hit him.

She had written on the back of her card and had left it with the receptionist downstairs when he was out of his office, and she had come to visit him.

Max separated the cards and flipped over the first card to see that she had left him a message. It read:

 

I’m right for you, Max.

 

Then he flipped over another.

 

And you’re right for me.

 

He set the two cards down on his desk and flipped over the last card.

 

I’m waiting for you to make this right between us.

I’m ready when you are.

I like you, Max, the way I know you like me back.

Josie.

 

His love and her words hit him straight in his chest. It was a collision like no other. This was what he had always wanted. Someone to care for him. Like him and miss him.

Someone who understood him personally and professionally, and everything between.

Someone right from him.

Someone like Josephine Faulkner.

And her three business cards were the encouragement he needed to swipe the cards off his desk and leap out of his chair.

Because he knew without hesitation or doubt.

I’m ready.

 

 

“No,” Josie breathed as she stared at the name of the sender of the email that had just landed in her inbox.

Johanna.

She was stunned.

She was the last person Josie had ever expected to get in touch with her. She owed Johanna nothing and had never heard from her. But after fourteen years of silence, Josie was curious to see what her father’s wife had to say.

 

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Hello, Josie.

 

Dear Josie,

I hope this email gets to your correct email address. I asked your father’s assistant for a means to contact you. I thought a phone call might be uncomfortable for you.

I know I’m the last person you want emailing you, but I thought it was time. Your father made it clear that our meeting was out of the question. He informed me that you would never come to Germany—which is understandable. Your home is in Australia.

I wish I had written to you years ago.

I feel like I let time slip and let your father control every source of communication.

All I ask, Josie, is that you read this email.

That’s all.

As you already know, your father and I have two daughters.

Your sisters.

Their names are Heidi and Angelika.

Heidi is the eldest, and she’s thirteen.

Angelika is eleven.

They would like to know you.

Your father talks about you to them all the time. He talked about when you used to dance and shows them both pictures of you. They ask all the time when they can meet you, but I never gave them an answer. When they were little, it was easier to feed them the excuse that you were busy. But now that they’re older, they would like to meet their sister from Australia.

Their sister who is about to become a lawyer.

I know I’m asking a lot.

Your father doesn’t know I’m reaching out to you.

I’ve always wanted you to be a part of our family, Josie.

I realised too late that we never formally invited you and opened our arms out to you.

You have your own life, and I understand that.

You’re an adult and have experienced many things we haven’t.

We don’t have to be in yours, but we’d very much love you to be a part of ours—even if it is only through emails.

I have attached pictures of Heidi and Angelika in this email. They’re learning ballet because they saw a picture of you in your tutu when you were young in Jeff’s office.

You inspired them, Josie.

They’re sweet girls.

I haven’t told them that I am writing to you in fear of getting their hopes up.

I don’t want to disappoint them if you don’t respond.

Not in the way your father and I have disappointed you through the years.

I look forward to hopefully hearing from you soon.

Johanna.

 

They want to meet me.

Josie reread the message once again.

It was right before her. The email she had wanted when she was nine. The words she had hoped for when she was a child. To know the sisters she never got the chance to meet.

Heidi and Angelika.

For years, Josie knew of them but refused to let him speak their names. Every time her father would begin to discuss them, she’d cut him off. It wasn’t until she was thirteen that she agreed to see him for a few weeks each year. She was an adult now. Her mother believed she was old enough to make her own decisions. And Josie only agreed to please her mother and no one else.

Josie could simply ignore Johanna’s email and hope they left her alone. But Heidi and Angelika would only be getting older. Soon, they would be able to go online and find Josie on social media. It would only take one name search, and they’d find everything. Her Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and even her Snapchat. Only her Twitter and Instagram were available for public viewing, but they’d see her life. A part of her told her to ignore the email. It had already been years, and her German sisters could continue their lives without her. But a bigger part of her felt guilty.

Her bitterness with her father affected Heidi and Angelika. They had questions and were curious about her. Josie didn’t want them growing up and resenting her for being selfish. When she was younger, all she wanted to do was get to know them and be a big sister. Her mother was right; she had to know them. They shared the same blood. They might never be real sisters who told each other secrets, but they could be friends.

Josie let out a sigh as she clicked on the picture attachments her father’s wife had sent her. When it loaded, she saw two blonde girls in their leotards with smiles on their faces. Unlike Josie, Heidi and Angelika had brown eyes, and she presumed that they must have gotten them from their mother. They were cute, and Josie took in their smiles. They were so young and innocent.

She was torn between giving them a chance at a relationship and giving her father what he wanted. But she had no idea how her mother would really take the possibility of Josie connecting with her father’s young German daughters. Josie didn’t want her mother to think she was betraying her … or worse.

Abandoning her.

Josie closed the image and returned to her inbox.

The thought of her mother ever thinking Josie could abandon her caused a pang of guilt to explode in her chest. Josie was used to abandonment and disappointment. She wouldn’t allow her mother to feel the terrible way it ate at your heart and played with your mind.

She’d spare her mother of that one thing.

But she couldn’t expose Heidi and Angelika to it either.

It was a mess.

And she knew the only person who could help her was the man she was waiting for.

Max.

He would give her helpful advice. But she hadn’t heard from him, and she presumed his day at court had dragged. The court case his father was on was already all over the news. The media had called it the trial of the decade. Josie had brought the cupcakes to his office early in the morning on her way to university, but he had already left for court. She wasn’t sure if she should leave them, but it was Monday. And she had promised a decision.

That he was right for her, and she was right for him.

She just had to hope that Ruby, the receptionist at the front desk of Gordon Sheridan Lawyers, did as she promised and left the box of Max’s favourite cupcakes on his desk for him to find. The suspense of not hearing back from him yet was driving her mad. All she wanted to do was message him. But he was in court, and she had been in class all day.

“Here you are, Josie,” her contracts tutor, Oswald, said as he stood in front of her table.

She glanced up from her laptop screen to see him holding a stack of papers out to her. Josie reached out and grasped the papers to discover it was her assignment she had handed in two weeks ago. The same assignment she had worked hard on with Max.

“Congratulations, Josie. You surprised me. I’m glad you finally understood the content. You should be proud of that mark,” Oswald said as he began to distribute the rest of the papers to the class.

Josie set her assignment on her keyboard and smiled the moment she saw the high distinction grade on the top right corner of the coversheet of her assignment. Then under it, she saw 96% written in red pen. Oswald was one of only a few tutors who liked using the percentage grade along with the standard marking key. He wanted students to understand exactly where they were, and Deakin’s standard markings were too vague for him.

The smile on her face stretched as she realised her overall average for her bachelor would remain in the high distinctions, eighty percent and above, if she aced her contracts exam. That goal of graduating with honours could still be realised, and she had Max to thank for that. She quickly dug her phone out of her cardigan pocket and paused the moment she set her thumb on the screen to unlock it.

Max was probably still in court.

He still didn’t know her answer.

That she wanted to be with him.

“So has he gotten in touch with you yet?” Stella asked eagerly as Josie held her phone between her shoulder and ear.

She sighed. “No, he hasn’t. He might not have even gone to his office after court. He could have gone straight home, which means he won’t see the box until tomorrow … and even that’s a big if he goes to his office before court.”

“Argh!” her best friend groaned. “Why can’t you go to his apartment then?”

“Because I don’t know where he lives.”

“How?”

Josie locked her Mini Countryman and hoisted her satchel onto her shoulder. “I’ve never been to his apartment.”

“This is so frustrating. You tell him you want to be with him in the most adorable, sentimental way, and it’s just sitting there on his desk, waiting for him to read it. Like come on!”

She laughed as she made her way towards her building’s security gate. Josie should be parking in the apartment garage, but the street parking was more convenient for her early morning commute when she drove to campus. Sure, there was a chance her car could be stolen, but her father had paid for it, and she had insurance. It wouldn’t be a loss she’d miss greatly because public transport wasn’t so bad. When Josie reached the security keypad, she entered the passcode and heard it buzz, announcing it had accepted it. Two steps to the right were made and then she pushed the door.

“Are you still there?”

Josie reached up and grasped her phone in her hand and relieved her shoulder from the cramped position it was in. “I’m still here. I’m just getting home. What do you want for dinner?”

“I’m gonna stay at West’s tonight. The school I was at today is probably Satan’s devil factory. Every class I taught was horrible. And well …”

She rolled her eyes as she entered the building complex and pushed the gate closed behind her. “You need West to relieve the stress?”

“Exactly. So I’ll see you tomorrow once I finish work?”

“Yeah, I’m closing at the bakery. So stop by if you want to.”

“If I want to? Oh, I definitely want to,” Stella promised.

“All right. I’ll see you then.”

Josie concentrated on her footsteps as she listened to her best friend say, “When Max gets back to you, call me straight away, okay?”

She lifted her eyes off the concrete and found the man in question sitting on the steps that led into her building. Josie’s footsteps halted when she noticed he was staring at the business cards she had left with the cupcakes.

“Stella …”

“No, seriously, I need to know. I’ve been going insane all weekend!”

“Stella, I’m gonna have to call you back,” she said just as Max took his focus off the business cards and directed those light brown eyes to her.

“Is he …?”

Josie couldn’t read the expression on Max’s face. She couldn’t tell if he was here to say ‘yes, let’s be together’ or ‘I had time to think it over, and we let ourselves get carried away.’

God, don’t let it be the second one.

She removed the phone from her ear and hung up on Stella without a goodbye. Just the sight of him had her heart soaring and aching. It suddenly weighed heavily from the nerves that ravished it.

As she slipped her phone into the pocket of her oversized cardigan, a wave of nausea rolled through her as his silence struck her and only sickened her more.

Max slowly got up from the steps.

Inhale.

Exhale.

God, breathe, Josie.

He closed the distance between them, and she watched him take a deep breath. Then his palms cupped her cheeks; her business cards were soft and cool against her skin.

And before she could say the first words since their kiss outside her apartment door, Max whispered, “I’m ready.”

But then he did something she hadn’t expected.

He kissed his statement into a promise as his lips found hers.