“Oh, I’m sure there are so many more things. Go to the beach—I haven’t done that once since I’ve moved back. I’ve always wanted to go to the Getty museum and have never been. Oh, and Disneyland—I’ve always loved it there, but I haven’t been in a long time. I know it’s super touristy, but I’ve never gone up to see the Hollywood sign—the problem is I feel like you have to hike to do that, and I definitely don’t have hiking clothes. Or, like … a hiking mentality. Or …”

Max plucked her wineglass out of her fingers and set it down on the table. The look in his eyes made her feel breathless.

“I have one more thing to put on your list. But you can check it off anytime you want.” He trailed his fingers along her jaw and drew her even closer to him.

“Oh? What’s that?” She hadn’t meant to whisper, but then she hadn’t expected him to make her tremble. She put her hand on his knee. God, why did it feel so good to touch him?

He leaned in, inch by inch, until their lips were a hairsbreadth apart.

“Kiss me,” he said.

And she did.

His lips were soft and gentle … at first. But after a few moments of light, tender kisses, he slid his hands into her hair and pulled her hard against him. She threw herself into the kiss, kissing him harder, deeper. She could tell he liked it, so she did it again, until he pulled her on top of him so she was straddling him. Now she could really tell he liked it. He leaned down to kiss her neck—this man had good instincts, God did she love being kissed there. She took the opportunity to run her fingers through his thick hair, and felt him sigh and then kiss her harder.

She reached down and tugged his shirt out of his jeans, and ran her hands up and down his back. He pulled her head back down to his and kissed her hard, but as they kissed, he reached around and took her hands in his.

Did he not want her to touch him there? Or touch him at all? No, she was on his lap right now, he clearly liked it when she touched him and kissed him, but as tactful as it had been he’d definitely removed her hands from his back.

She pulled away and looked at him. He certainly looked like he was enjoying himself. All flushed, with swollen lips and unfocused eyes.

“Do you want to move to my bedroom?” she asked, just as he said, “I should probably go.”

As soon as Olivia realized what he’d said, equal amounts of rage and humiliation rushed over her.

“I see,” she said.

She scrambled off his lap and tugged her dress down.