Thursday was an odd day for me. Josh kept giving me strangely wounded looks which I completely ignored. I definitely did not want any office gossip to start now that our affair was actually over. Then Tracee came in for the first time since her brother’s death, but when I approached her she behaved as if the accident, or her calling me in the middle of the night had never happened. I backed off and let her get on with it.

Everybody else was meeting at a cocktail bar downtown.

“What about you, Mimi? You coming?” Josh asked.

I shook my head and took great pleasure in saying truthfully, “Got a date with Max.”

“Oh,” he said with a frown.

I left work early and was home well before six. There were so many things I could have done with my time. I could have tossed out all the expired cans from my pantry—and there were more than I felt comfortable admitting to. I could have done laundry—or should have, really. I could have cleaned under my bed. I could have taken the leftovers out of the fridge. I could have even rested so that I would look my best when I went out with Max.

Instead, I paced and tore my brain apart asking all sorts of questions. Why did he kiss me when he did? Why did he take all those opportunities to touch me—my back, my arm, my hand? Was it just to send a message to Josh and everybody else at the party?

Or was it more?

No matter why he’d done it, I couldn’t forget how it felt. Electric. It took my breath away. I felt like a little girl with her first crush. Only I wasn’t wearing braces and a training bra anymore. Even if I was still as big a dork as I was back then. Ugh, had I really played piano for him? Why didn’t I just throw in a few card tricks and show him my rock collection as well?

But he’d asked, hadn’t he?

Then I pictured the soft smile on his face and that almost awed look in his eyes and I became confused again.

* * *

I opened the door to Max dressed in a black turtleneck sweater and black jeans. Even in a turtleneck, he looked good enough to eat. His gaze roamed over down to my flat ballet slippers, probably my most comfortable shoes besides my sneakers.

“I see you meant what you said last night about going casual.”

I motioned to his outfit. “You’re not exactly dressed for the Ritz yourself. Anyway, you said, you liked it when I’m shorter than you.”

He grimaced. “If this is what a relationship with you is like, I might have to rethink it.”

“Get used to it. You’re the one who got us into this.” I made a point of lingering behind him to get a look at his butt. Holy hell, he could wear a pair of jeans. I sketched a quick sign of the cross over myself before he could catch me.

We ended up walking a few blocks to a pizza shop with a window that faced the street so customers could order outside or inside. It wasn’t too cold out, a good night for walking, so we decided to walk while we ate.

“I can burn calories as I eat them,” I joked.

“I told you, you don’t need to worry about that,” he said, biting into his large slice with extra cheese. A man after my own heart. I could never get enough cheese in my life.

“I do. It’s all smoke and mirrors.” I grinned before taking a bite of my own slice. It was heaven on a paper plate and almost as big as my head. “I swear, in my next life I’m gonna come back as a cheese shop owner.”

He stops walking. “I’ve seen you naked.”

I nearly choke and he has to bang me on my back.

“Thanks,” I said with tears in my eyes.

“You all right?”

“I choked and nearly died. I wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” I grumbled.

He smirked. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it. I’m a dick.”

He wiped a little tomato sauce from his lips. I couldn’t help ogling. That man had lips to die for. We started walking again.

“So is this more your speed?” he asked. “Just some pizza and a walk around town?”

I shrugged. “I can go both ways.”

“Provocative.” His eyebrows wiggled up and down.

“You know what I mean. God, I have to think about everything I say just in case there’s a possible double entendre.”

“I never said I had an elevated sense of humor.”

“As I was trying to say before I was interrupted by childish humor,” I continued pointedly, “I like a nice night out as much as the next person, but I don’t need to go all out all the time. Sometimes a girl just wants to wear her flats and eat pizza. And it helps when she has good company.”

“I’m flattered.”

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

“Of course not.”