I nodded and sniffed. “He’s not my boss, but he’s a manager and I have to see him every day. I just hate it that I got involved with somebody at work because only stupid people do that.” I looked up at Max through a veil of tears. “I’m not a stupid person. I swear, I’m not stupid. You have to believe me. I’m holding my heart in my hands.”

“I believe you.” His smile was kind, even sweet.

I wiped my eyes. It felt like the worst was over, which was a relief.

“Feel a bit better?”

“No fair,” I muttered to myself.

“What’s no fair?” he asked.

“You don’t get to be so gorgeous and be a nice guy, too.”

“Gorgeous?” He had been leaning in, close to me, but straightened away. “I wouldn’t call myself gorgeous.”

“Oh, come on,” I cried indignantly. “Is your mirror broken? Or do you have really poor eyesight? Is that it?”

He chuckled. The sound caused another strange flutter in my stomach. I looked at him. “My stomach is fluttering.”

“You’re not going to be sick, are you?” he asked anxiously.

I couldn’t believe he could make me laugh when I felt so completely crushed, but he did. I tried to hold it in, but before I knew it I was laughing like a hyena. Couldn’t stop. He just stared at me.

“Ugh. I’m the worst.” I held my head in my hands. “I’m so that girl right now.”

“That girl? What girl?” His hand was on my back again. He rubbed back and forth—not sexily, not like he was coming on to me. Just in a friendly sort of way. It was sort of amazing, though.

“The one who makes bad decisions. She gets sloppy drunk and does stupid things like go to a stranger’s apartment and cry her eyes out like an idiot and tell him all her embarrassing issues. What a loser.”

“Hmm. Would it make you feel better if I told you something embarrassing about myself?”

I looked at him through my spread fingers. “Oh, please. Like you have any embarrassing stories.”

He grimaced. “I’m a human being. We all have embarrassing stories.”

“Well, then, yes.” I sat up, pushing my hair back over my shoulders sloppily. “Please. Soothe me with your embarrassment.”

“Uh, let’s see. When I was a kid, I played indoor soccer for maybe two seasons. I wasn’t totally athletic back then. I was sort of a nerd.”

“Bull…shit,” I slurred. No way, was this guy ever a nerd. Not even in a past life. I felt quite aggressive about the fact.

“I was. I could show you some pretty tragic school pictures from those days.”

“I will hold you to that.”

“Anyway,” he continued, “I had never scored a goal before, and suddenly the ball came my way. I was so excited because the goal was open, so I kicked it in. I thought I was a living god, you know? I mean cheering, waving my arms around, the whole thing. Only nobody else on my team was cheering.”

I gasped and covered my mouth with my hands. “Oh, no. It was your goal, wasn’t it?”

He nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah. I scored on my own goal. It took years to live that one down.”

I leaned my head back dreamily. “I can imagine. That’s a pretty embarrassing thing to do.”

“Believe me now that I was a nerd?” He said with a laugh.

“You were a nerd,” I agreed slowly, even though secretly, he was even more of a sex god in my mind now that he had turned out to be totally the opposite of what I had expected. There was nothing sexier than a man who could laugh at himself. He put me at ease, he did his best to make me feel better. And he looked good enough to eat, on top of everything else.

“You should probably move your bed,” I said suddenly.

“What?’

“I can hear you having sex,” I stage whispered.

His eyes grew to twice their size. Up close his eyelashes were longer than a camel’s.

“The headboard makes an awful racket,” I added.

He folds his arms over his chest, his eyes alive with amusement. “Is the noise keeping you awake?”

“Nope. I use ear plugs, but once a picture fell off the wall, and hit me on the head,” I said coolly.

His lips curved into a slow sexy smile. It was like watching a speeded-up video of a flower blooming. I couldn’t look away.