Page 14 of Puck Me Secretly

Without speaking, he held his door open wide. I inspected his room.

“Nice room.”

“Is yours different?”

“No. It’s the same.”

“I’ve seen a lot of hotel rooms in my life.”

I glanced at him, interested in the small tidbit of himself that he shared. “Do you travel a lot for work?”

“Yes.”

What did Max do for a living? I debated asking him, but he wasn’t giving me the vibe he wanted to talk about his personal life. I respected that he guarded his personal life, and it's not like I wanted to spill any more of my guts.

He studied me as if he was trying to figure out my train of thought.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Yes please.”

I sat on the edge of his bed and watched as he knelt in front of the minibar.

“Gin and tonic?”

“That sounds nice.” I watched as he poured my drink.

“I don’t have ice.”

“That’s fine.”

He poured himself a scotch, handed me my glass and then sat on the chair by the table, a few feet away from me.

We drank in silence for a few moments. The man before me was a total stranger, but I felt drawn to him.

“How are you doing?” He broke the silence.

“I thought I’d feel different.”

“How so?”

“Shouldn’t a near death experience change my outlookon life?”

He continued to watch me with that intense blue gaze.

I had to know. “How were you so calm?”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone was screaming and freaking out and you didn’t react. How did you know we’d live?”

“I didn’t.”

“Excuse me?”

He dumped the rest of his mini bottle of scotch into his glass. “I didn’t think we’d live.”

Shock rippled through me. “But you told me. You told me it’d be okay.”

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