We were supposed to meet at a nightclub downtown at around ten o’clock. That gave Max and me the half hour we would need to go over everything we should have gone over earlier today…you know, before I got all weird. Which, I was going to pretend never happened. If that made me slightly crazy, so be it.

The name of the nightclub this time around should have been enough of a warning sign to not pass go and collect two hundred dollars: Lure. Any place named after the idea that temptation was at your fingertips, should have been some sort of sign to me.

Especially since I was already feeling like I might want to be nicer than usual to Max after my very one-sided conversation with Derek from earlier today. Who would have guessed that Max Allen was actually a nice guy underneath that entire asshole exterior? Not me, that’s for sure. But maybe I should have after his handling of the whole photogs following us earlier today. Then again, he was the one who started that mess to begin with. However, he did all of that so it would hopefully keep Oliver off our backs.

And then there I was, taking an afternoon run at the park by my apartment to blow off some much needed steam, when Derek called me screaming on the phone. Once I calmed him down, he went on to explain what had him so excited.

“Max Allen is in love with me! I told you so!” He had yelled at me over the phone.

“Wait, what?”

“Girl, that man is mine, he knows it and I know it! He sent me the most gorgeous arrangement of yellow roses! They were just delivered to the coffee shop and—”

“Derek, stop yelling and start making some sense.”

He took a big breath and then blew it out so loudly that I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “As I was saying, the most beautiful bouquet of two dozen yellow roses were delivered a few minutes ago, and they were from my beloved, Max.”

“How do you know they were from Max? And why would he send you flowers anyway?”

“Obviously, because he’s in love with me, duh, Daphne. Get your goddamn head in the game, girl!”

“Seriously, Derek,” I had warned him.

“All right, all right. I’ll read you the card. It says, ‘Thank you for putting in a good word for me with Daphne. I really appreciate it and I owe you one. Yours truly, Max Allen.’”

“Oh, jeez,” I had mumbled.

Derek went on and on after that about all the ways he could have Max Allen pay him back. After the third vivid explanation, I hung up not being able to keep up. My head was already spinning. I didn’t need Derek’s love of Max making it any more confusing for me.

So when I got to Lure, I felt…I don’t know, off, not myself. I definitely wasn’t feeling comfortable in my own skin. And more than anything, I knew that I was nervous about seeing Max again. But the show must go on.

Thankfully, I spotted Adam first. He was already setting up his camera equipment in between these two, large life-size birdcages. At the moment, the cages were empty, but I had seen this kind of thing before in other nightclubs. Women, and sometimes men, depending on where you went, would get inside and dance in very little to no clothing. I wasn’t a fan of it, but whatever.

“I guess this is where we’re filming the intro tonight?” I asked Adam.

He was so engrossed in stringing some cables and setting up some kind of giant portable light that he didn’t even stop working when he answered me. “Yeah. Max thought it would be a good opening shot with the girls dancing on each side of you.”

Rolling my eyes, because of course a guy would want this shot with half-naked women flanking him. “Speaking of Max, have you seen him around?”

“Yeah.”

I waited for Adam to elaborate on his answer and tell me where I could find Max, but when he didn’t say another word, I asked again. “So do you know where I can find him? We needed to go over some of the shots before we started filming tonight?”

It felt as if Adam wouldn’t answer me with anything other than a “yeah” again by the way he kept right on working on what he was working on and not sparing me a glance. But he surprised me by standing up and pointing towards a black curtain towards the back of the club. “He went that way a little bit before you got here and said he would be back soon.”

My feet were already moving to where Max was supposed to be before Adam even finished his sentence. Something inside of me wanted to see him and clear the air so-to-speak between us. Not that he knew there was anything wrong. And technically, there wasn’t anything wrong. It was more that I wanted to prove myself wrong. I needed to prove to myself that I didn’t like Max in any way other than partners on this show and okay, sure, maybe as friends. And like was even a strong word for me.

Peeling back the curtain and holding it open to look inside, Max’s back was to me and he was engrossed in a conversation with someone I couldn’t see or hear from where I was standing. Of course, the deejay would start blaring the music right then too. I took a step or two closer and then froze as my heart was beating like crazy in my chest and then dropped to somewhere around my ankles. A pair of woman’s hands wove around and up the nape of Max’s neck. The red tips of this woman’s fingernails were peeking out in between some of Max’s dark hair. And for a moment, I thought how funny that he was letting someone touch his hair because I knew how much he cared about his hair and the time he put into it getting it to look like the fuck-boy hairstyle he had it in. But that feeling of humor was replaced immediately by a flare of jealousy so strong at the sight of this woman being intimate with Max. This was followed by me mentally kicking my own ass for feeling jealous for all of ten seconds for wanting to be that woman. I know because I literally counted to ten like a lunatic to myself quietly. And once I got to ten, I cleared my head, locked my heart, and told my jealous feelings to go to straight to hell.

Clearing my throat first, which got Max’s attention, he turned his head around as I said, “Isn’t this cozy?”

His face went from smug to holy shit quicker than I could bat an eyelash. Max turned completely around now, and that afforded me a look at the woman. The petite brunette must have been one of the cage dancers, because she had on some sort of Vegas showgirl outfit on that left little to the imagination. And, yeah, she was gorgeous…I mean, of course she was if she was working at this nightclub as a performer. Plus, Max had never struck me as the type to hook up with anyone that was less than model-worthy.

“Do you mind giving us a minute, hun,” this came from the brunette. “Thanks.”

“Sure, no problem. In fact, Max, take all the time you need. We’ll just be waiting out there for you to finish.” I jacked a thumb over my shoulder as I said this. And I hated how much I sounded like a jealous bitch. Because I had no right to think or feel that way.

“Wait up, Daphne,” Max said and started to peel the dancer’s hands away from his neck. “It’s not what you think.”

“It’s okay, Max. You do you. And when you’re done, we’ve got work to do.”

I opened the curtain and stormed away. Not caring that I came off looking like a fool.

“Daphne, wait!” Max yelled after me.

Walking as if I were crossing over hot coal, I reached Adam so fast it was scary. He was still setting up the equipment. So, I pretended to act like nothing happened…and then Max showed up.

“Good, you’re here,” I told him and then turned to Adam as if Max wasn’t even an afterthought in my mind. “I’m thinking that if me and Max start here and do the cold opening in between these two cages that should totally work. Then we could move over to the bar for the next shot. Perhaps interview the bartenders and hope that they give us a couple of good sound bites that can be used later on. And then for our ‘favorite things’ segment, maybe we—”

Max pulled me by the elbow. “Daphne, stop for a second. I need to talk to you.”

“About what? Seriously, Max, we need to get moving here before it gets too late.” My voice was so overly cavalier when I said this to him that even my inner me was rolling her eyes in disgust. “Adam, so, like I was saying for the ‘favorite things’ segment, we could maybe do those over by the deejay booth. Then we can wrap it all up with us talking, you know, kind of like the camera would be sneaking up on us having a real conversation or something that looks more candid and behind the scenes for the viewers. I think they would like that. What do you think, Max?”

“Sounds great. Can we talk now?” he asked through gritted teeth.

I chose to blissfully ignore his request and walked over to Adam. “So what do you think? Sounds good to you?”

His body was hunched over and he was cursing under his breath while trying to detangle some cables. Popping his head up, he asked, “Were you talking to me? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

For fucks sake.

Adam just messed up the whole routine I had done so that I would look like I couldn’t care less if Max was with a ton of dancers or one dancer. Honestly, I still wasn’t sure why it was bothering me so much. There was no way I could be falling for Max. Just no. Nope. Not in this lifetime. And if that were true, then why was my Cuban temper going into overdrive the moment I thought of that woman’s hands threading through his hair.

I didn’t have a chance to answer my own question, because Max’s hand latched onto my elbow and started pulling me along through the club.

“Max, stop it! Where are you taking me? And get your hands off of me right now, dammit!”

“Shh!”

“Are you shushing me?! You better not be!” I looked behind me to where we had left Adam. He seemed as confused as I felt at this turn of events. “Max, I’m serious, let go of me right now, dammit!”

Next thing I knew, he had us darting past a line of women waiting for the ladies room.

“Oh no, you don’t, you, you…come mierda,” I told him, finally finding the right insult in Spanish.

Max was ignoring my complaints and all the groaning of the few women we had just skipped over to get into the crammed bathroom. He slammed the door shut behind him and locked it.

“Really nice, Max. Good for you, you’re a big tough jerk who just dragged a poor woman to the bathroom against her will. That’s going to go over great with anyone who noticed who we are out there. So thanks for that.”

He leaned against the door and crossed his arms as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Maybe if you would have let me talk to you for one goddamn second I wouldn’t have had to drag your ass all the way over here. Did you think of that?”

If I wasn’t already seeing red, that comment did it.

“Oh, oh, oh, is that right?! Well maybe if you weren’t so worried about sticking your dick into the next available outlet we wouldn’t be here right now. Did you think of that?!”

“What are you even talking about? That dancer?” he asked and had the nerve to make a face like he was confused by my question. “You know what? Don’t even answer that. I was trying to explain myself but you jumped to conclusions and ran away. Which you have a habit of doing. But not now, missy. You’re trapped in here with me until we figure this out.”

“Figure what out?”

He motioned between us. “This. Us.”

I laughed. “Max, there is no us. There’s a pretend ‘us’ for those people out there that I have you to thank for…so thanks. But other than that, there is no us and there will never be an us.”

“So then why are you giving me shit over who the hell I hook up with or don’t hook up with? And for the record, I wasn’t hooking up with that woman.”

“Sure you weren’t,” I mumbled.

“What was that?”

I took a step closer to him. Putting my hands on my hips, I said, “Are you calling me a liar? I saw you with my own two eyes, Max. I’m not an idiot.”

“Sweetheart, you saw two friends catching up and giving each other a hug. That’s it. And if you would have stuck around for a few more seconds, I would have introduced you to her and you would have seen for yourself. But nooo, you ran off like a scaredy cat instead.”

“If you say so, Max. I don’t even care.”

I was totally doing the whole cutting-my-nose-to-spite-my-face-thing instead of backtracking and giving him the benefit of the doubt. Because if you looked up stubborn in the dictionary, there would be a picture of yours truly staring right back at you. My grandmother liked to make fun at how stubborn I was. Some of my most stubborn moments are legendary within my family. Like the time I recently refused to admit that I had given my little brother the wrong start time to an appointment he was supposed to take our abuela to. I was completely wrong, like not even close. I knew it. He knew it. We all knew it. But hell if I was going to admit it to anyone out loud.

“You know what, Daphne?” Max asked with a hint of mischief in his voice. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Max pushed off of the bathroom door. He took a step towards me and then another, until I was backing up. I stopped when the lip of the counter hit my butt and I had nowhere else to go...or hide for that matter. But Max was still moving, until he was so close to me that I could barely see straight.

“Prove it,” he said quietly.

“Prove what?”

“That you don’t like me like that.” He did a quick waggle of his eyebrows.

“Pfft, not that it matters to me, but how the hell am I supposed to do that?”

“Kiss me.”

I almost choked on my laugh. “And what would kissing you prove exactly?”

“Kiss me and see for yourself. If you’re able to do it without feeling something, anything, then you’re right and I’m wrong and I’ll let you go.” He took a breath and then said the rest in such a low, seductive voice, that I could feel myself being swayed to the dark side. “But if we kiss and you feel like I’m turning you inside out and back again, if you feel like you want more than just my tongue inside of you, if you feel hot and sweet and ripe for the taking, if you feel a tiny bit of any of those things…then I’m right and you’re wrong and you’ll have to admit it.”

I never backed away from a challenge. Even the ones I know I should…like this one. Because all those vivid images that Max put in my head with his little speech, made me feel like I could barely stand on my own two feet. As good—or bad, depending on how you looked at it— as I was about being the most stubborn person I knew, I could also be pretty damn good at pretending. Or as my little brother liked to say, “Fake it until you make it.”

“Fine.” I could see the hint of surprise that I was agreeing to this in his eyes. “Let’s get this over with so we can go back to work.”

Max’s lips began to quirk up at the corners of his mouth as he noticed that I gripped on tighter to the edge of the counter for dear life. Leaning forward an inch, he reached up at the same time and took my face in his hands. My heart started jackhammering away in my chest as his thumbs rubbed soft circles around the apples of my cheeks. He did this so slowly, so methodically, that I thought I might die from the impatience I was feeling. But then, he ducked his head a little more. Max’s hair fell forward as his lips softly brushed against mine for the first time. Lush and slow at the onset and so quick that it left me bereft as soon as he pulled away. But when he leaned in a second time, his tongue peeked out and grazed my bottom lip. And the warmth that I felt sweep over me was so sudden, so urgent, that I thought I might die if he didn’t deepen the kiss immediately.

Thankfully, he did. Because in the next beat, his mouth was over mine and our tongues were searching and hungry for more, more, more. I gave into the kiss and to Max. I let him take over the entire moment until he moaned into my mouth and my mind went blank. All I could do was feel him; feel his kiss, feel the hardness of his body pressed up against mine, feel his hands cradling and angling my face just so as my body responded.

It felt as if the heat and urgency between us kicked up about twenty or so notches all at once. His hands glided down to my neck as he broke the kiss and I may have mewled in protest. Max’s grin was the cockiest I’d ever seen on his sinfully gorgeous face. Then his voice dropped to an obscenely sexy level when he asked me, “Do you want more?”

In my head, I ran through a million and one reasons in the blink of an eye why I should answer no. But my body answered instead. I looped my arms around his neck, wanting to erase the image of his supposed little friend out of my mind—and his. I forcefully pulled him closer until his lips were but a breath away from mine. He chuckled low and deep, making me almost miss his little comment.

“Greedy girl,” he muttered just before licking his lips and capturing my bottom lip between his teeth lightly.

I was a greedy-ass girl. And I didn’t care one single bit. In this moment, I was lost to his touch, his kiss…and to him.

Our kiss turned more desperate. Feeling half-crazed and turned on to the point of losing my mind, I hopped up a little so I could sit on the counter, not giving a good goddamn if it was wet or dirty. Because I was so fucking ready to be both of those things with Max’s help.

With my legs open, he moved in and pressed against me while pulling me closer to him. Then it seemed as if his hands were everywhere at once; sliding down my neck, down the sides of my breasts, and lower still, until he reached my hips. He gripped them so tightly that I gasped into his kiss. As Max held my hips in place, he started to grind into me in slow but hard pulses. Enough so, that even through my jeans, I could feel Max and all of his hardness perfectly. My God…whatever hold I had left on my senses was slowly slipping away, because I all I wanted was to just skip over all of this foreplay and have him inside me.

And as that image played over and over in my mind’s eye, Max started to press hot open-mouthed kisses across my jaw and lower, every so often dragging his teeth against my neck and making me feel like I would turn inside out. I moaned loudly, feeling the slow curve of his smile against my skin and for some reason that little gesture pleased me more than it should.

“You like that,” he said in a sinful voice. “I’ll give you whatever you want, however you want it.” He pressed more kisses up the right side of my neck until reaching my ear, where he whispered, “Tell me what you want me to do you, beautiful Daphne.”

Pulling Max’s head by his hair until his mouth was lined back up with mine, I told him, “I want you to—”

Bang, bang, bang.

We both jumped out of our skin and turned our heads to look at the bathroom door.

“Get the hell out of there already!” a woman’s voice yelled. “We need to use the bathroom for chrissakes!”

It was like the reality of this moment and how I totally fell for Max’s stupid charm closed in on me from every angle. And looking around me, the fact that we were on a bathroom counter a couple of feet away from what was probably a disgustingly filthy toilet, made me want to crawl out of my skin. And not in a good way.

Max must have sensed something in me had changed, because his hands fell away from my hips. Instead, he rested them on either side of me. His usually carefully coiffed hair was standing up on end, thanks to yours truly. It might have been the world’s worst case of bedhead, and it made him look even sexier and wicked than before.

For once, he had nothing to say and I was so relieved that he didn’t, too. The last thing I needed was his smart-ass comments getting under my skin right now. Instead, he kept those dark eyes of his trained on me, trying to read my thoughts like they were stamped across my forehead.

Bang, bang, bang.

“Get the fuck out of there!” A woman’s voice yelled.

Our attention snapped to the door again. And as much as I hated to do it, I hopped off the counter and decided to make my getaway. Scurrying to the bathroom door, I was prepared to make my escape. With my back to Max, I could hear him laughing a little at my expense.

He had been right. And I was so wrong.

“See,” I said, my voice slightly cracking, “I’m not jealous at all. Happy now?” I asked him, not daring to spare him a glance. “Can we get back to work now?”

“Sure, if you say so, Daphne.”

I unlocked the door only to be greeted by a bunch of angry women who were waiting to use the bathroom. And I totally understood how they felt. Because I was pissed at myself, pissed at Max, pissed at his kisses that were the most perfect kisses I’d ever been given.

Passing the irritated mob of women, I left Max to fend for himself. This was only fair since I would have to fend for myself from now on, whenever and wherever Max was concerned. Because not only was he right that I was jealous about that dancer friend of his from earlier, but I was also one hundred percent positive that I was falling for Max Allen.