Page 46 of Sparks Fly
“Yes, but I was the one who said we should get a room,” Max pointed out.
“After I said you should—”
The oven dinged behind Max, interrupting them. He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her lips, a small gesture that made her feel warm all over.
“To be continued,” he said. “Why don’t you sit on the couch and I’ll bring this over?”
“Do you need any help?”
“Can you grab us some drinks? I have beer in the fridge.”
Stella grimaced, a natural reflex upon hearing the wordbeer, but Max’s back was already turned so he didn’t see it. Hopping off the stool, she went around the counter to the fridge and happily discovered that, along with the aforementioned beer, Max also had an unopened bottle of wine. Stella grabbed it and a can of beer.
Stella held up the bottle to Max, who was now transferring their food to plates.
“Corkscrew?”
Max’s brows rose, but he nodded his head toward the drawers by the sink.
“Second drawer on the left,” he said.
“Thank you,” Stella singsonged.
At first she didn’t see it, but then she realized that unlike the rinky-dink corkscrew she and Chelsea had been using since they turned twenty-one, Max’s was electric.
“Fancy,” she murmured to herself.
“Hm?” Max asked.
“Nothing.”
In a matter of seconds Stella got the bottle open, and after a few tries, she found the cabinet with the wineglasses. By the time she was done, Max had already moved to the couch with their food and was waiting for her. The whole thing felt very domestic, and as hard as Stella tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to do this every night.
She was once again getting ahead of herself, except thistime she wasn’t hypothesizing about what could happen with a crush or someone she’d gotten one drink with. She was losing herself in the fantasy of being with the first and only person (so far) she’d slept with. Were her friends right? Was she getting caught up in her feelings because they had sex, or were her feelings real? And even if they were real, what if this was just sex for him, nothing more?
“Hey, you okay?”
Stella found herself seated on the couch next to Max, their drinks on coasters on his coffee table, with no memory of walking over from the kitchen. She disbanded her spiraling thoughts, deciding she could think about all of that when she wasn’t about to have second dinner with a great guy.
“Yeah, I just spaced for a second,” she said.
Max didn’t look convinced, so Stella reached forward and grabbed the rest of her quesadilla, taking a small bite so she’d have something to do besides meeting his skeptical gaze.
“Mm, still good,” she said. She leaned back, cuddling in next to Max. He relaxed beside her, raising an arm so she could get even closer.
“So,” she asked. “What are we watching?”
Max pressed a kiss to her temple and handed her the remote.
“Whatever you want.”
Stella grinned. “I love that answer.”
Max chuckled, and the soft rumble of it vibrated through her in the best way. Taking the remote she turned onNew Girl, and for the rest of the night she stopped worrying about what would happen and focused on what was.
Twenty-Three
Max didn’t think Stella had planned on sleeping over, but when she fell asleep on the couch, half of his bottle of Moscato gone, all he could do was pick her up and put her in his bed.
