turned into a chatterbox. He shook his head as he pulled out of the parking lot, annoyed with himself. He hadn’t meant to talk so much. Jesus, he’d even brought up tenure. “Man, what a nap magnet I’ve turned into,” he muttered.
And that kiss! It had felt the thing to do, and she’d been looking at his mouth, kicking up all kinds of dust in him. So he’d kissed her. He was aroused and her lips were as soft as butter, and she tasted good, and he could have been a goner.
He still couldn’t say what exactly was happening with them, but whatever it was, he liked it. A lot.
Hazel surged forward onto the front seat console and lashed her tongue across his face. “Cut that out,” he said, but then pulled her forward a little so he could scratch her behind the ears.
He wished he hadn’t brought up the tenure thing. It sounded defeatist, and mostly it was fear talking. But it was weighing on him and, he’d discovered belatedly that once he started talking, he couldn’t stop. Maybe because he really didn’t have that many people in his life he could talk to about things like that. But there had sat Carly, looking interested and cute, and she was listening and engaged, and, wow, he’d felt so comfortable he’d let it all out. He had felt like he could say almost anything to her. He pretty much had—what had he left unsaid today?
He supposed there was some biological basis for that sort of trust to explode out of nowhere, some unemotional delineation between sexual and romantic attraction. But he didn’t want to think about that now. For once, he did not want a scientific explanation, he just wanted to experience this heady sensation of attraction and this need to be near her, to talk to her, and the overwhelming desire to touch her . . .
It had been a very long time since he’d experienced anything like this.
On his way to his father’s house, he thought back over the serious girlfriends he’d had. There hadn’t been so many. His first love came when he was a high school senior and had ended when they went off to different colleges.
In graduate school, he’d met Flavia. The Argentinean beauty was the most significant girlfriend he’d had. He’d once believed she would be his wife. They’d lived together in a tiny studio apartment west of campus. She’d met his family, and she liked Jamie. Max had assumed they would marry. He’d assumed they would research together, teach together, coauthor papers together, and be together for the rest of their lives. Six months after cohabitating, they were through. The fire that had burned so brightly from the moment they’d met flamed out. A couple of years ago, he’d heard that Flavia had returned to Argentina and had a job at a university there.
Since Flavia, there had been other women, but the relationships never lasted more than a couple of months. He never felt ready to get into a relationship, like he didn’t have the right mindset. He was too absorbed in his work and the path to tenure. His research had consumed him, and whatever was left of him after that was devoted to his family or laundry or the occasional trip to the gym. He could reasonably deduce that the recent lack of physical contact with a woman was the reason he’d been so eager to jump into bed with Alanna Friedman that night.
He rolled his eyes. Great decision, that.
Nevertheless, it was nice to be in the company of a woman who had nothing to do with work or family for a change. It was surprisingly nice to enjoy a lazy afternoon with dogs and Carly, laughing and talking about everything while some very lovely music played lightly in the background. It was nice to feel so comfortable with a woman who had lips that looked pillowy and soft and silky hair his fingers burned to touch. It was arousing to look into those shining blue eyes and imagine.
Oh, yeah, he imagined. He imagined a lot. He’d wanted more, so much more . . . especially now, after that kiss.
He couldn’t wait to see her again.
* * *
Max arrived at his father’s house with no memory of the actual drive over, given his distraction. He pulled into the drive, let Hazel out, and followed her to the door. They walked into the smell of something delicious. “Hello?” Max called.
“In here!” his