The only worthwhile thing he’d done for her, aside from generously donating his sperm toward her existence.
Max raised his eyes heavenward. “Yulia. Yulia Catherine Zolnerowich. It could have been so beautiful…”
“Shut up, Connor. It’s your turn to think of questions.”
Max drummed his fingers on the concrete floor. “Right, so my middle name’s Michael, I have two sisters, and a dog called Sparky.”
He looked at her, all but daring her to say he didn’t have a dog called Sparky.
“Your middle name’s not Michael.”
His handsome face fell. “How did you know?”’
“You expect me to believe your parents named you Max Michael Connor? C'mon, man.”
She took another swallow of whiskey and Max glared at her. “How is this fair? You’re going to get hammered while I sit here twiddling my thumbs.”
Julia shrugged. “You're a big guy, you probably wouldn't get drunk from all this delicious Tiger Whiskey. It’d be wasted on you.”
Max leaned forward, his black eyes warm as velvet. “I am a big guy, Jules. More than capable of wrestling that greasy-ass bottle away from you.”
Julia ignored the involuntary tingle between her legs. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Fine, but I’m not holding your hair back if you puke into our toilet-bucket.”
“Don’t remind me we have a toilet-bucket, Max. Please?”
He chuckled and leaned back against the shelf. Both his hands came behind his head and he inspected her from boots to forehead in a long, electric stare.
“Can I help you with something, Mr. Connor?”
Max smiled a dangerous, whiskey-soaked smile. “You seeing anyone at the moment?”
Julia felt heat spread in her belly. Heat that had nothing to do with alcohol.Lie. Put a pin in this whole dangerous flirtation thing now.“No, I’m single. Why?”
“Just wondering if you’re going to let Halloran put the moves on you at the end-of-year party.”
“Halloran?”
Max grinned. “The guy Daly and Jackson mentioned before, the one who has a crush on you.”
Oh, right. That dork. Julia couldn’t begin to imagine who he was. Hopefully not the cop with the porn. Maybe he’d mistaken her discretion for romantic approval…
“I doubt it’ll be an affair to remember.”
“How come?”
“He’s probably not my type.”
“What’s your type?”
You.“Something that doesn’t exist.”
Max extended a hand and she gave him the whiskey. She heard a small clink as his teeth hit the glass and realized they’d both been putting their mouths on the bottle. Transferring kisses on the glass. Max lowered the bottle, his expression oddly intense. “You date though, right? You see people?”
Julia licked her upper lip, tasting whiskey there. “My sister’s set me up a few times and I meet people at parties and bars but they’re all…”Annoying. Immature. Uneducated about clitoral stimulation…“They never live up to my expectations.”
Max smiled. “You’ve got high expectations?”