Page 81 of Curveball
“You keep it, if you want. Use it as a rental, or an escape. Anything else?”
He’s on a ticking clock, but he’s not impatient. I’ll have to talk to him about that. Tell him how much I appreciate it.
“Yeah,” I sigh out on a long breath paired with a slow nod and my lips twisted. This one is embarrassing. “Do you really want my crappy car parked in your driveway?”
Max chuckles at me, kind of like an indulgent parent. We’re going to have to talk about that, too.
“Ah, the car. I’m warning you now, we do this and there will be a new car in the garage for you.”
I was afraid of that. He doesn’t ever seem overconcerned about appearances, but he does like comfort.
“But—”
“I want that for you.”
“Max—”
“Palmer, it’s your car, and it’s not crappy. Do whatever you want with it. Maybe give it to Dylan?”
Dylan, right. At least he isn’t trying to buy my son, too. Fighting his grandfather is hard enough.
“Good idea,” I mutter against the wave of relief and absolute terror washing through my entire person.
Max leans down and kisses me hard.
“Anything else?”
I have one more concern, and it’s a biggie.How can I go along with this when I know he doesn’t love me?Lucky for both of us, my hand’s out of fingers.
“Nope. I guess we covered all the important stuff.”
“Look, I should get downstairs with the team,” he says as he gathers up what he needs. “Stay here and finish up, decide what you want to do, and then take the WAGS bus to the park.”
“Whoa, whoa! I am not staying here in this room alone with all those thoughts. You want me to be a crazy woman?”
“Babe, believe me, you’ll thank me. Now, I need to be on my way. I’m late, and I really can’t let you?—”
“Letme?” I don’t screech like the crazy woman I just threatened him with. But I want to.
“Look, calm down?—”
I growl out loud.
“I swear, Max Murphy, if you tell me how to behave one more time, I’ll . . .oomph!” I grunt when he bends down and tosses me over his shoulder. Then, he takes off through the living room and then the bedroom—all the way to the bathroom.
“Put me down, you caveman!” I shout while pounding on his back. He gives my ass a slap, but it’s an easy target, bouncing against his cheek with every one of his long strides. At last, he lowers me to the bathroom counter. Where I was seated when this debacle involving Alejandro and his ridiculous travel plans began.
Lightbulb moment.
I whip my head to inspect my face in the mirror, and yep, there I am with eyebrows done, tinted moisturizer with SPF50 glazed over every plane and contour of my face and neck, and liner and mascara on one of my eyes.
Yes,one.
And . . . I’m done. Done losing sleep—and my shit—whenever Alejandro contacts me. Done remembering I’m in a fake relationship with a man I’m crazy about, but I promised not to tell anyone except the jerk who’s the cause of all this angsty drama. All Max and I have is a verbal agreement. How much weight will that carry if Alejandro drags out his machismo and tests it? Am I willing to find out?
“All right,” I say calmly to the reflection of Max’s back.
“Look, if we get married, he won’t have a leg to— Did you say all right?”
