The Consequence of Revenge

“Would she?” Max tilted his head. “Or would she still say no? Maybe I didn’t judge her fairly, after all, an education . . .” His smile was soft. “It’s important. Of course this is coming from a poli-sci major who’s supposed to be taking over his father’s hotel empire, so what do I know? Right?”

I looked down at the table, my cheeks heating in shame. “The girl should have found another way . . . she should have trusted her heart rather than her head.”

“Overthinking is a total menace to society.” Max nodded emphatically. “I recommend doing no thinking. Say right now . . . I’m thinking”—he leaned in farther, his face an inch from mine—“that it’s a stupid idea to put myself out there again. I mean what type of guy puts himself on the spot only to get rejected twice? But . . .” His gaze lowered to my lips. “I’m going to choose to listen to my heart . . . meaning I can’t be held responsible for what I’m about to do next.”

Instead of kissing me, like I’d assumed he would, Max left the table, and walked onstage with Reid.

“Um?”

“A poem.” Max cleared his throat into the microphone. “Reid, will you?”

Reid nodded and began strumming some chords on the guitar he pulled from the stage as Max spoke into the microphone again. “Her eyes are brown, her face is young. When I first met her my heart said she was the one.”

And tear number one just fell down my face.

“But the things about numbers, sometimes they get confusing, meaning a man may not be of her choosing.” Max winked. “After all is said and done, after the cameras and the fun. It’s only fair to give said lady a second chance. So I rip open my heart, shed a bit of my soul, and stand in front of complete strangers wanting to know . . .” Max paused as the spotlight fell onto my table. “Will you? Will we? Can it possibly be . . . that in that heart of yours you’d find space for two? A space for me? The ending is yours. The story just beginning. I only ask for a continuation into what started as me and you, and ended in a complete bust. Change the ending. To a story of us.”

It was impossible to see the stage. Tears continued plowing down my face like I was having an allergic reaction to the smoke, when really . . . it was Max. All Max.

I should have been the one on the stage. Heck, I should have been on my hands and knees, which just proved again how amazing Max really was. He didn’t care what others thought. I think he proved over and over again that when he wanted something, he simply went after it.

And he wanted me.

Even though I didn’t deserve a second chance.

“Us,” I said loudly. “I really like the sound of that.”

“Ooh, good,” Max said into the microphone. “Does that mean the guy gets to kiss the girl now? He’s been waiting for seven whole days, and Disney encourages kissing . . .”

Disney? What? I made a mental note to ask later as Max made his way off the stage and stalked toward me.

He didn’t gently kiss me.

His hands wrapped around my hips, lifting me into the air, forcing me to wrap my legs around his lean body. And he attacked.

His kiss forceful, warm, welcoming. Perfect.

“Now that,” a woman said from a nearby table, “was a kiss.”

“Damn straight,” I whispered across his mouth.

“I’m thinking . . .” Max’s teeth tugged my lower lip. “Rope, hat, boots, what say you?”

“You want me to tie you up?”

His eyes darkened. “Aw, sweetie, the rope’s for you. The cowboy boots? You. The hat? You . . . imagine all the trouble I can get into with just a few props.”

My entire body pulsed with excitement.

“Feel me?” he whispered, across my lips.

“Hard not to.” I sighed as he lowered me slowly down his body.

“Cute.” He gripped my hand in his and dragged me out of the bar. I almost stumbled into him as we made it to his waiting car.

“Oh, and by the way.” Max opened the door for me. “You’re not giving the money back. That’s stupid. I’m investing it for you.”

“You know how to invest money? And what banks are for?”

“Hilarious.” He rolled his eyes, “I’m actually good at it . . . after getting punched in the jaw I even had a fleeting thought that I should do something like that . . . with investments.”

“I think . . .” I pressed my palm against his cheek, “That you’ll be extraordinary at whatever you put your mind to.”

“Good.” He cleared his throat. “Because right now my sole focus is on multiple orgasms—you know, just to prove they can happen outside of the Island. All in favor, raise your hand?”

I threw my head back and laughed.

“Oh.” He snapped his fingers. “And you’re going back to school and you’re going to be awesome and I’m going to cheer for you when you graduate and we’re marrying at midnight.”

“Tonight?” I gasped.

“Near future. I just got carried away with my dominant voice. It’s so hot I almost turned myself on.” He winked.

“Sadly, probably true.”

“Hey, I can’t help that I have a normal and healthy obsession with my own voice.” He buckled my seat belt, his hands slowly moving from the buckle up to my face. “I like you like this.”

“Unable to escape?”