The Summer Proposal Page 4

  She leaned forward and rested her hands on my desk. “But honey, what if Gabriel doesn’t come home? Or what if he does, but he doesn’t want to pick up where you left off? I’m not trying to be mean. Really, I’m not. I like Gabriel, or at least I did until he pulled the crap he pulled before he left. But why should you waste more than a year of your life, when he’s not?”

  I sighed. “I guess. But the other thing is, it’s not fair to the other person. I don’t know if I can give Max the same thing a truly single person could, you know?”

  “You said you told him the deal between you and Gabriel? What was his response?”

  “He asked if I was looking to get even or looking to see what else was out there.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I was honest and said I wasn’t sure.”

  “He was okay with that?”

  I nodded. “He said he just wanted to know what he was in for.”

  “You want to know what I would do?”

  I tilted my head. “Probably not. You’re a little off your rocker these days.”

  “True. But I’m going to tell you anyway. I think you should fuck his brains out—have an affair, or whatever you want to call it.”

  I couldn’t say the idea of getting hot and sweaty with Max Yearwood didn’t appeal to me. In fact, the thought of it made my belly do a little dip. I was exhausted today because I hadn’t been able to fall asleep when I got home last night. Lust had coursed through my veins just imagining those big, blue eyes looking down at me. I bet his thighs were muscular from all that skating, too. He was just so big and broad—nothing like Gabriel, who had a lean, runner’s body. Again, I imagined what Max might look like naked. But I forced that thought from my mind with a few blinks.

  When my eyes came into focus again, I found Maggie with the dirtiest grin.

  “You were just imagining it, weren’t you?”

  “No.” I answered waaay too fast.

  She smirked. “Sure you weren’t. You know what I’m going to do?”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to get one of those little electronic scoreboards and hang it right over there.” She pointed to the wall opposite my desk. “Maybe if I tally how many times Gabriel bones someone and make it a competition, I’ll get the home team off the sidelines and back into the action. You’ll never be able to handle losing.”

  While she was right that I liked to win, I wasn’t sure racking up numbers would make me feel like I was winning anything with Gabriel.

  Luckily, our conversation was cut short before Maggie could delve deeper. My admin, Ellie, knocked on my office door and opened it.

  “Mark Atkins has arrived for your ten o’clock meeting. He said he came early because he has a lot of prototypes to set up, so I put him in the conference room and told him I’d check on him in a bit.”

  “Okay, great. Thank you, Ellie.”

  I’d been working on a new product line with the vendor who made my vases. I thought it would be cool if people could keep their roses for a year and have them change colors. So we designed a vase with a removable bottom panel. Different interchangeable bottoms could be purchased that contained dye wells designed to infuse the stems of the roses with new color. After a few months with white roses, you could unscrew the bottom panel, insert a pink dye well, and twenty-four hours later, voilà: pink roses. It could be done a few times if you went from light colors to dark.

  Maggie rubbed her hands together. “Today is turning out to be awesome already. You’re going to bang a hot hockey player, and we’re going to see your idea come to life.”

  “I didn’t say I was going to see Max again.”

  She winked and got up. “You didn’t have to. I’m going to go check if Mark needs help. You finish up your fantasy, and I’ll come get you when he’s ready.”

  • • •

  I’d missed two calls during the meeting today. The first was from Gabriel, who had left a voicemail. The second was Max, who hadn’t. I found myself a tad disappointed that it wasn’t the other way around. Nevertheless, I waited until I got home that night to press play and listen to Gabriel’s message.

  “Hey, babe. Just checking in. I spoke to my publisher today, and he liked the early stuff I sent him on the book I’ve started working on. Of course, he liked the first one enough to buy two books and the first one flopped, so him liking it doesn’t actually mean much. But it’s better than him not liking it, I suppose. Anyway, we haven’t talked in a while, and I miss you. I’m sure you’re probably working late, busy kicking ass and taking names, but give me a call when you have time. Love you.”

  I frowned and unzipped the back of my skirt, tossing it on the bed. After my trip to Paris, where I’d found out Gabriel had actually started dating and had slept with other women, I’d stopped being the one to initiate contact. Seems I didn’t feel like making all the effort anymore. So my every-other or every-third-day phone calls with Gabriel had dwindled to once a week or less. I wasn’t even sure if Gabriel had noticed the change. But so much bothered me about his message today. First, “I’m sure you’re probably working late…” It must be nice to assume that and not imagine I’m in bed with someone else. Because that’s certainly what had run through my head when I thought about him lately. And second, it irked me that he was calling to tell me good news about his publisher. We’d gotten engaged when he sold his book and separated when it flopped. It made me feel like the way I was treated depended on external circumstances. Is that how it would always be? The health of our relationship relying on his career successes and failures? How had I only realized this in hindsight?

  Whatever. It was eight o’clock here, which meant it was one in the morning there, so I wasn’t going to call him back anyway. Plus, my phone was almost dead, so I plugged it into the charger on my bedroom nightstand and went to take a shower.

  An hour and a half later, I climbed into bed and checked my phone. I’d missed another call from Max. As I nibbled on my lip and debated if I should call back, my phone buzzed with an incoming text. Normally, I had Siri read me my texts and send responses to save time because of the disconnect between my brain and letters, but when I glanced over and saw Max’s name, I started to read.

  Max: Are you avoiding me or busy?

  I smiled and texted back.

  Georgia: I had a busy day.

  Max: Busy now?

  Georgia: No, I just climbed into bed.

  A few seconds later, my phone rang.

  “I really wanted to FaceTime to see what you wear to bed,” Max said. “But I figured I’d be a gentleman.”

  I chuckled. “I appreciate that. Because I took a shower and didn’t feel like drying my hair, so I have a braid and no makeup on.”

  “Braid, huh? Sorta like Princess Leia…”

  I laughed. “Are you actually a Star Wars fan, or do you just have a Princess Leia fetish?”

  “I wouldn’t say fetish. But what little boy wasn’t hot for the princess? She was a badass.”

  I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed Yoda. “You know, I still have your action figure. I forgot that you put it back in my pocket when I tried to return him.”

  “Make sure you take care of my lucky charm.”

  I rolled Yoda between my fingers. “How did this little guy become your lucky charm, anyway? Is it because of your fondness for Princess Leia?”

  “Nope. It all started with a girl named Amy Chase.”

  “A girl, huh? Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “Don’t get jealous. She hates me.”

  I laughed. “I’ll bite. What’s the story with Amy and Yoda?”

  “Amy was in ninth grade when I was in seventh. She was friends with my brother Ethan, who worked at the movie theater around the corner. He used to sneak people in to watch movies for free. One weekend they were running a Star Wars marathon. I think there were six movies back then, so it was something like twelve or fourteen hours long. I went with Amy and a few of Ethan’s
other friends, but everyone dropped out after two or three movies. Only Amy and I stayed for the whole thing.” He paused. “Not to be disrespectful, but she had a great rack for a ninth grader. Anyway, we were sitting in the last row of the balcony during The Phantom Menace—which is the worst one, by the way—and we started to get a little bored, so we were talking, mostly about school and stuff. Then out of nowhere, Amy asked me if I’d ever touched a boob. I said no and asked her if she’d ever touched a dick. She said no, so of course I suggested we remedy that.”

  “Aren’t you only like thirteen in seventh grade?”

  “Yup. And Amy was fifteen. In her defense, I looked older. And I was as big as any ninth grader. Anyway, we gave each other thirty seconds to check out each other’s assets. She stuck her hand down my pants, wrapped her little fingers around my junk, and gave it a good squeeze. Of course, I was fully hard and had been since she’d said the word boobs. After she was done, she let me play with her boobs, under the bra, for half a minute.”

  I couldn’t help but crack up at the way he’d emphasized under the bra. “So that’s why I have Yoda? Because you got to cop a feel in a movie theater in seventh grade?”

  “What could be luckier than getting to watch six Star Wars movies for free and touching boobs for the first time?”

  “You’re a little nutty. Though I guess you’re right—at least at that age.” I laughed. “But why does Amy hate you?”

  “Oh, because I told all my friends about it, and they started calling her second-base Chase. I was thirteen and thought I was cool. It wasn’t my finest moment. My brother kicked my ass when he found out I’d told people, and Amy got even by lying and telling everyone my dick was limp when she touched it. But it did teach me an early lesson never to kiss and tell.”

  “I bet.”

  “So…were you going to call me back?”

  “I…” I was about to say I would’ve, but why not be truthful? “I’m not sure.”

  “Did you not have a good time last night after the game?”

  “No, I did. It was the most I’ve laughed in a long time.”

  “Not attracted to me?”

  “Is your mirror broken? I’m guessing most women between eight and eighty find you handsome.”

  “So the problem is the dumbass then?”

  “Dumbass?”

  “What else would you call a guy who tells you it’s okay for you to see other people while he’s living out of the country for a year? Dumbass.”

  I smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You didn’t say you weren’t going to call me back. You said you weren’t sure. So that means there’s a part of you that is interested.”

  “There definitely is. I’m not going to deny that I like you. That’s actually the problem. I think it was easier to go out on a date when I knew the person wouldn’t be someone I was into. I’m just not sure I can be invested in two things at the same time, even if there’s nothing technically holding me back.”

  Max was quiet for a moment. I thought he might’ve hung up.

  “Are you still there?” I asked.

  “I’m here. Will you at least come to my game tomorrow night? It’s at home again. You can’t make me play without my good luck charm. You can give it to security if you don’t want to wait around after.”

  I looked down at Yoda in my hand. “Sure. I suppose coming to another game is harmless.”

  “Bring a friend, if you want. I’ll leave two tickets at the will call booth.”

  “Okay.”

  “Excellent. It’s getting late, so I’ll let you go.”

  “Goodnight, Max.”

  “Sweet dreams, Georgia.”

  CHAPTER 4

  * * *

  Georgia

  “Hi.” I stepped up when it was my turn at the ticket booth. “I’m picking up two tickets for the game tonight.”

  “Your name and ID, please?”

  I slid my license to the other side. “Georgia Delaney.”

  He held up a finger. “You’re Yearwood’s guest. Hang on a second. He left a bag for you, too.”

  I looked over at Maggie and shrugged.

  She grinned. “I hope it’s snacks. I’m hungry. Twizzlers would be nice.”

  I chuckled. “We’re early. We can get something inside.”

  A minute later the guy in the booth came back. He slid two tickets across the counter and then a logoed Wolverines bag. Since there was a line behind me, I stepped away before opening it. “Thank you.”

  Inside, there was an envelope on top, so I opened it and slid out a piece of thick cardstock. The handwriting was neat and very slanty.

  Wear my name on your back tonight. It might be the only chance I get.

  X

  Max

  P.S. There’s a Wolverines shirt in here for your friend. Unless you brought a date. If that’s the case, fuck ’em. He’s not getting shit.

  I laughed and handed Maggie the card.

  She read it and grinned. “I like him already. He’s hot, wants to put you in his seat with his name on your back, and has gifts for your friend. If you don’t wind up going out with this guy, I’m warning you, I’ll be giving him my number.”

  I shook my head with a smile. “Come on, let’s go change and get you some snacks before the game starts.”

  We arrived at our seats carrying two hot dogs, ginormous sodas, and a large pack of Twizzlers. The same woman was sitting in the adjoining seat as last time.

  “Hi, Jenna.”

  “Hey, Georgia. I heard you might be here tonight.”

  I settled into my seat with a furrowed brow. “You heard?”

  “My husband asked Max if anyone was using his seats. My mother-in-law was thinking about coming. Max said his tickets were being used by his new green-eyed lucky charm. I had a feeling he meant you. By the way, thank you for being here. You saved me three hours with my horrible mother-in-law.”

  I laughed and pointed to Maggie. “This is my friend Maggie. Maggie, this is Jenna. She’s married to one of the players.”

  “Great to meet you.” Maggie leaned over me. “So, do you know Max pretty well?”

  “Well enough that I’ve seen his ass more than once.” Jenna smiled. “We have a summer home out east, and it has an outdoor shower. Max loves it, and I can’t get him to keep his bathing suit on when he uses it.”

  “Nice.” Maggie smiled. “Can I ask you a question about him?”

  Jenna shrugged. “Sure.”

  “Would you let your little sister date him?”

  “I don’t have one. But I did try to set him up with my best friend, if that answers your question. She’s a model and was very into him. They met at a party at my house, and at the end of the night she asked him if he wanted to go somewhere and hang out more. He declined, saying he had to get up early the next morning. He definitely could have had a good time and then ditched her. But instead, he kept things friendly. When I asked him the next day what he thought about her, he said she was really cool, but he wasn’t into her that way and didn’t want to take advantage. Not too many single guys would have done that seeing as Lana has been in the Victoria’s Secret catalog.”

  Maggie aimed a gloating smile my way. “Good to know. Thank you.”

  The game started, and Maggie and I really got into it. Having someone to cheer with made all the difference. We stood when Max’s team scored, booed when the visiting team did, and during intermission, Jenna brought us to some secret wives’ suite where we had cocktails and everyone was super friendly. At one point during the third period, Max scored. When the camera zoomed in on his smiling face, I could’ve sworn he looked right at me and winked, which made the crowd go crazy. I was certain every other woman in the arena thought it was for her, too.

  During the last period, the usher who had showed us to our seats came by. He handed me another envelope and two lanyards. I recognized the all-access pass from the one Jenna had let me borrow last time. The women on both sides of me grinned as I s
lipped the card out of the envelope.

  In case you want to return my little friend in person, rather than leaving him with security.

  I hope to see you.

  X

  Max

  • • •

  “Can you tell me how we got here?” I shook my head and spoke to Maggie as I stared across the bar.

  “Well, we put one foot in front of the other and walked about two blocks from the Garden after the game ended.” She lifted her chin toward where Max was talking to the bartender while waiting for our drinks. “I honestly don’t remember much after that gorgeous beast of a man flashed those dimples and asked us to come out with him.”

  I sighed. “I know the feeling. One minute I was waiting outside the locker room, swearing I was returning his lucky charm and saying thank you and goodbye, and the next I was sitting here. I think the dimples are hypnotic or something.”

  Max returned to our booth with two glasses of wine and a bottle of water. He slid into the seat across from us and looked back and forth between Maggie and me.

  “Why does it feel like the two of you sitting on one side is more dangerous than skating on an eighth-of-an-inch blade toward a three-hundred-pound defender with no teeth?”

  Maggie grinned. “The man knows how to read a room.”

  “I wish I was better at reading your friend.” His eyes shifted to meet mine a moment. “Tell me how to get your friend to go out with me.”

  She wagged her pointer. “Not so fast. I need to make sure you’re right for her. I have a few questions first.”

  Max smiled. “I can see why you two are good friends already.” He lifted his arms to rest along the back of the booth. “Ask away, Maggie.”

  “Dogs or cats?”

  “Dogs. I have two.”

  “What kind?”

  “A mutt and a Pomeranian”

  I laughed. “You have a Pomeranian?”

  Max nodded. “It wasn’t by choice. My brother bought it for his kids for Christmas last year. His one daughter couldn’t stop sneezing, and the other two couldn’t stop crying after he told them they had to give the dog away. The younger one suckered me into taking it so they can still see it sometimes.”