Page 24 of Dr. Bad Boy

He means Ottawa, and I shake my head. "Toronto."

"Good." He rocks on his heels, and I think for a second he might reach out and touch me, but instead he just gestures down the row toward the baker. "Come on. Keep me company while I get some muffins."

A flower vendor on the far side of the baker has sold out of her stuff, so she’s tearing down her stall, which makes passing a little difficult. Max stops to get his muffins and the girl gives him a big smile. I move closer, and her attention flicks back and forth between us.

“What?” Max asks me, and she assumes we’re together.

“You guys wanted more muffins, eh?”

What is it with her and me and conversations I don’t want to have? I nod politely.

“You already got muffins, honey?” Max asks, and the teasing humour in his voice is such an abrupt change, my mouth practically drops open.

I frown at him. My nod to her was just the answer that required the least amount of explanation.

I am not pretending that we are a couple. I look at the blocked aisle and sigh. “I need to get going,” I mutter under my breath.

He reaches out and brushes his knuckle against my cheek, so lightly I’m not sure he’s actually touched me except my skin feels singed and raw. “Maybe you’re just hungry.”

“You know what? We’re almost done here.” The girl carefully adds her last two muffins to Max’s box. “Something for your drive home.”

I’m still staring at him, because touching me is definitely way over the line I drew a week ago.

He is not feeding me a muffin.

I don’t care if it’s rude. I step back, then scoot as quickly as I can around the flower vendor’s pile of stuff. What kind of idiot doesn’t tear down to thebackof a space? Ridiculous.

I’m speed walking, and Max still needed to pay, but somehow he still catches me as I reach my car.

“Hey,” he says, his voice rough and out of breath as he gets in front of me, dumping his hockey bag on the ground at the same moment as he braces his hand on my car door—effectively stopping me from getting in said car and driving away from him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” He lowers his voice. “It just happened, you know? Sometimes I'm incorrigible. I wasn’t trying to start something.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure.”

“If I was going to start something, I’d invite you to come and watch us play next week.” He smirks. “I’d like it if you cheered me on.”

“Market’s not here next Saturday.” I shrug like it's a shame, but it's not. It's a good thing, and probably the only thing that is keeping me from taking him up on the offer.

“I’m sure we could find you another excuse. Would you like to meet the prime minister? Ellie’s coming to watch next week. I could introduce you, she could vouch for me that I’m not a monster.”

My cheeks heat up. “I don’t think you’re a monster.”

“Just off-limits.”

“Yes.”

A low hum sounds from inside his jacket. He groans and pulls out a pager, glancing at the screen for a second before glancing back up at me. “That really doesn’t work for me.”

Well, too bad, so sad. “Them’s the breaks.” I slide my hand over his, ignoring the cold slice of electricity that zaps up my arm at the contact. “Excuse me. I really must be going.”

“Okay.” He steps back and shoves his hands in his pockets. He’s frowning again. Like he’s thinking hard.

I recognize that face.

He had that same expression when I tried to push him away in the boardroom.

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