I was determined to stand on my own since I still had a modicum of dignity left, or so I told myself. What I did not have, I soon found out, was coordination. I couldn’t seem to make my legs work. I heard him sigh, then felt his hands grip my biceps as he lifted me up. The fact that he could do that so easily was not lost on me.

When we got in the elevator, I leaned against the wall and watched him openly. In the light, he looked even better than he had in the dark.

“What?” he asked, looking down at me out of the corner of his eye. He had at least a half-foot on me even though I was in heels.

“Do you think it’s weird? Like, does it ever feel weird to you?”

“Does what feel weird?”

“Living as one of only two people in our whole building?”

He waited a moment, then nodded. “Not really.”

“You won’t cave in to those bastards, will you? They can buy everybody else out, but they can’t buy us. We’ll stand our ground and fight them until the very end,” I declared dramatically.

He stared at me. “To the very end,” he agreed softly.

“I woke up this morning and felt like I was in one of those disaster movies where only a few people are left.”

“Like The Stand.”

“Oh, that movie was awful.”

“Terrible,” he agreed. “The book was much better.”

“But you see what I mean.”

“I do.” He grinned. “Well, at least you’re not totally alone. Otherwise, you’d still be sitting out there on the steps.”

“You don’t know that. I might know people in the neighborhood.”

The doors opened, and Max stepped out with a knowing grin. “Who?”

“Joe.”

“Joe who? And don’t say Smith.”

“I wasn’t going to.” I put all my effort into walking a straight line as we made our way down the hall.”

“So, you don’t know anybody in the neighborhood. Just admit it. It’s not a crime. This is New York. It would be weird if you did.”

“Okay, I don’t.” I leaned against the wall while Max unlocked the door.

He grinned. “So, I’m kind of your savior right now?”

“I could just as easily sit out in front of my door for the next three hours.”

He stopped just short of opening his door. “You’re right. See ya.”

“No, no. Come on. I was just kidding.”

He smiled—he had a really, really nice smile, when he bothered to show it off—and opened the door.

“Whoa.” I dropped my purse just inside the door, stunned at what I saw. “This is waaaaaay bigger than my place! How many bedrooms is this?”

“Um, three?”

“Wow. Your living room is twice the size of mine. Maybe three times.” I walked around, running my hands over the furniture. All new, all very nice. Mine was from Ikea or Goodwill. His had actually come from a furniture store, and it actually matched. “And your view!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice.”

“My view is of the back alley. This is better than nice.” I could see the entire street out his living room windows, not to mention the city skyline over the tops of the roofs across the street. “This is fantastic. I can see why you don’t want to leave. I wouldn’t, either.”

“It’s nice,” he said again. “I like the area.” He paused then added meaningfully. “And the scenery.”

His comment flew over my head for a second as I stood by the window, but as the meaning of his words sank in, I felt my cheeks redden.

“Then how come you’ve never been very nice to me when I’ve run into you before?” I asked, turning halfway.

He slid out of his suit jacket, folding it carelessly over the back of a leather club chair. I could make out the size of his shoulders and biceps through the cut of his white shirt. My stomach fluttered a little—maybe not a good thing, considering the amount of food and booze in there. I’d always been a girl who loved a solid set of shoulders, and his were impressive. Much like the rest of him, come to think of it.

“I’m not always great with strangers,” he admitted. “And I’m usually lost in my own head when I’m alone.”

“I don’t understand.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “I mean I’m usually distracted. I have a million things going on in my head all the time. That’s all. People take that as rudeness when I’m just…oblivious, I guess. Not something I’m proud of.”

I looked him up and down, trying to decide if he was sincere or not. Then I gave up since I was no judge of character in my condition, and his smile and dimples were too distracting.

“You want something to drink?” he asked.

I brightened. “You have any wine?”

“Yeah, but I was thinking water might be a better idea right now. No offense, but I like my furniture puke-free.”

I was just about to protest when a nasty belch worked its way up my esophagus. Oh, sexy, I thought in panic. I managed to keep my mouth closed, turning my head away from where he stood. “Yeah,” I agreed when it had passed. “Water’s great.”

I watched as he walked into the open kitchen, which also happened to be three times larger than mine. It was very sleek, all black and chrome. Very masculine. I wondered how much work he’d had done in there. I would have asked, only the sight of his tight butt was more interesting just then. He was bent and pulling two bottles of water from a low shelf in his fridge.

I suddenly hoped the Super took all night to get here.