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“Oh, shit,” she said, turning serious. “Has that happened yet?”

Yet. Because it would eventually happen.

“No,” I admitted. “Nothing. But he’s warned me that it’s inevitable. I just…you know I’m not super comfortable in the limelight. I like taking the pictures, not being in them.”

“I get that,” she said. “Privacy is important to you. But you’re stunning either way and I’ve learned to just ignore the media. It’s healthier to pretend your name is never mentioned.”

Mila had mastered the art of not giving two fucks about what the press wrote about her. Because of her father and brother’s celebrity status, her life was found to be just as interesting to the public. Hell, there’d been a whole BuzzFeed article about her last week, citing her favorite gelato flavors and places to shop in Italy.

“I have to get to class,” she said after we’d chatted for another few minutes about safer topics like art and food.

“Eat another portion of pasta for me tonight,” I said.

“You know I will!” She laughed. “Now you go bitch-slap that doubting voice in your head and be the awesome person you are.”

“I’ll do my best,” I said, and we hung up. I continued to lay in bed, my mind whirling yet my soul settled after hearing my best friend’s voice. Mila had never steered me wrong before, and she knew her brother, so maybe she was right. Maybe Maxim was really in this with me, for the time being, and who says I shouldn’t enjoy the hell out of it while I could?

I walked around Maxim’s too-quiet house, making sure everything was clean and tidy, just the way Maxim liked it.

Not that he’d ever get onto me about a mess—I’d made plenty in the last few months I’d lived here and he never once complained. But he’d been on the road for a week, and I missed him so damn much I had to give myself tasks to keep my mind busy. Cleaning up the house for his return had been an easy distraction.

We’d talked on the phone every night the past week, even when I insisted he should go celebrate with his teammates. He always said he was doing exactly what he wanted to do, which was hear my voice.

God, I’d almost swooned when he said that. Like, how could I not? And now he was on his way home and I was bubbling with nervous energy. Being on the phone with him was effortless, but after a week of not seeing him, I couldn’t help but wonder if that spark between us would still be there. I mean, it was only a week, but still.

I heard his car pull into the garage, then heard his key in the lock, and I swear I couldn’t breathe around the battle of excitement and apprehension building in my chest. Would he want some time to himself to adjust after the long trip? Would he just want to crash?

“Evie?” Maxim called, a hint of curiosity in his voice as he walked through the house. He stopped just as he rounded the corner to the living room. He wore a pair of jeans and a black Reapers T-shirt, his muscles defined beneath the soft fabric, his cobalt eyes lighting up and a grin on his lips that I knew was for me.

I stood in front of the couch, wringing my hands, but I smiled back at him. “Welcome home,” I said, because it was legit the only thing I could think of. “I stocked the fridge with some of your favorite snacks,” I said, unable to stop the nervous babble. “In case you’re hungry.”

He tilted his head, eying the distance between us. “Oh, I’m starved,” he finally said.

I took a little step back. “Great,” I said. “I’ll just let you eat—”

“Evie,” he said, his voice low, rough.

“Yeah?” I asked.

He nodded to the space between us. “Is there a reason you’re standing all the way over there?”

A lick of heat flashed up my spine. “Is there somewhere else I should be standing?”

He cocked an eyebrow at me, wetting his lips as he snapped and pointed at the spot right in front of him.

And that move, paired with the demanding look in his eyes, broke me. Shattered all the doubts, all the nerves, all the ridiculous overthinking. With that simple snap, I was his.

I raced across the space, launching myself into his arms. He caught me easily, hefting me up to his level so that my bare feet dangled off the ground. His mouth slanted over mine in a frenzied kiss that shot lightning through my veins.

“I missed you,” I said between his lips.

“You have no idea,” Maxim growled, sucking my tongue into his mouth and igniting every single nerve ending I possessed.

I clung to him tighter, drinking in his scent, the way his arms felt around me, the way he kissed me like he’d thought about it every single day we’d been apart.


Tags: Samantha Whiskey Carolina Reapers Romance