Page 23 of Sexy Bad Valentine

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“I’ve never seen anyone move so fast,” I whisper. Talk about traumatic. The moment King finished whizzing on the poor guy, he’d scampered through the open doors. Max and a couple of the crew had taken chase after the tiny dog. It would have been funny watching three grown men chase a fluff ball through the snow, if Kelly hadn’t been ushering the rest of us out into the cold while apologizing profusely to the nurses. “Let alone a group of people. The entire place was in disarray.”

“It was pretty damn funny,” Max says, speeding through traffic.

I check my seat belt again, still not sure how I ended up in his car with the dogs in the back, but I have to assume it’s on account of the fact that I smell like pee. “Well, his owner is definitely not getting my date.”

Max chuckles discreetly, but I catch him and hope he withers under my glare.

“Come on, Evie. It’s not that bad. King had a little accident, that’s all.”

“I know that.” I drop my gaze to my still damp lap. “And I’ll be able to laugh about it once I’m changed.”

“I wasn’t laughing at you,” he says, pulling into an underground parking structure and finding a space next to the elevator.

“You weren’t?” I side eye him, not sure he’s entirely credible. “Where are we? Why are we stopping?”

He hops out and a few seconds later opens my door. “My apartment.”

“Why?” I allow him to guide me into the elevator, watch the numbers go up and up and up.

“I have to take the dogs back to their owners and I can’t take you with me because you’re not allowed to meet the guys.”

“Okay, but why not drop me at Puppy Love then? So I could go home?”

“Do you want to go home?” He’s right beside me, hands in pockets. No part of him is touching any part of me, and yet my skin feels covered in static, the fine hairs standing up in anticipation.

I flick a glance at his face to find him watching me. “How do you know Moon River?”

“Have you ever seen the movie?” he asks. “Audrey Hepburn, Mickey Rooney.”

“No.”

“It’s great. I used to watch it all the time with my sister after we first lost our parents. We’d pretend to have these extravagant parties in our little flat on the south side. Dee used to dump the nightshade on her head like a fancy hat. Do you want to watch it with me?”

“Maybe, but...” I point to the splotch on my jeans as the elevator comes to a halt.

Max steps out, leading the way. Those same women from the first time I came to his apartment are in the hallway again. The one with the glasses adjusts them as I pass. “Look, Gladys, it’s the same girl from last time. What do you suppose happened to her crotch?”

“Well, I never.” Maureen hits the back of her frail, sun spotted hand against Delores’s arm. “There’s a first time for everything apparently. Even philandering fuckboys dating the same girl twice in a row. Think he’s in love with her?”

“Did you just say fuck, Maureen? How unladylike,” Delores chirps. “She’s a bit skinny, don’t you think? Those hips aren’t made for child bearing. And it looks like the poor dear has a worse bladder control problem than you do.”

“Come now, ladies. It’s clearly de rigueur to not wear any panties so that a fellow’s white stuff leaks out all over the place.”

“Hush your mouth, Gladys,” Maureen exclaims.

“Hey, handsome,” Gladys calls out, and Max turns to acknowledge her. “If you ever consider giving an old lady the time of her life, you call me. You hear?”

“Of course.” He winks at her before opening the door to his apartment and ushering me inside.

“They are some dirty old ladies.”

“They’re sweethearts,” he says, walking through his apartment and grabbing a towel as he leads me to the bathroom. “Completely harmless. How about you give me your jeans and I’ll toss them in the washing machine, then take the dogs back while you wash up?”

“Okay.” I partly close the bathroom door between us and then sit on the edge of the tub to strip out of my boots. “So your neighbors adore you, and your sister loves you. Even that assistant who is running the show at Puppy Love can’t hide the fact she respects you. You’re like the nicest playboy I’ve ever met.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says. “But I’m not sure I am a playboy.”

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