The Boyfriend Sessions (7 page)

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Authors: Belinda Williams

BOOK: The Boyfriend Sessions
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Max’s soft, deep laughter was strangely satisfying. “I’m getting over it now.”

“Just as well. Or else I might feel an uncontrollable urge to cry coming on.”

“Please don’t.”

As we made our way to the entrance of the train station, it occurred to me that our banter might be considered flirting. Surely not? It was Max after all. Clearly I was reading too much into things as a result of my commitment to being a single woman.

I watched as he inserted money into the automated ticket machine, feeling more unsettled than I expected. I stared at his broad shoulders and noticed more than a few women who walked past gave him appraising looks.

He turned, ticket in hand, and registered my look. “Is everything alright?”

I blinked. “Fine. Just daydreaming, that’s all.”

He rolled his eyes and moved out of my way so I could buy my ticket. “You creative types, letting your mind run away with you.”

I grimaced. “Something like that.”

“So. How do you think it went?”

We were on the street outside Grounded Marketing’s office, waiting for Max to pick us up. It was close to seven o’clock and somehow the day had flown by without Maddy and I being able to hold a proper conversation. The pitch for Oz Guardians was over and done with by lunchtime. I’d attended briefly for the big unveil of the design concepts, but slipped out after my part was over. The rest of the day became a blur of meeting other design deadlines.

I studied Maddy and beneath her made-up exterior, I could see that she was tired. “From what I saw, I think it went really well,” I reassured her. “They weren’t easy to read, but you definitely had them interested.”

“Let’s hope so. I felt like I talked too much and they hardly asked any questions. That worries me.”

It was understandable Maddy would be anxious but in this case, all we could do was wait. “When do we find out?” I asked.

“End of next week hopefully. God, I hate this part.”

I agreed with her there. The pitching process was always so anti-climactic. You could spend weeks, long days and nights in a frenzy of preparation which culminated in the pitch. After that, you were left with virtually no feedback and no communication until the potential client chose to get back to you.

“You know it’s impossible to tell from the meeting what their final decision will be,” I reminded her.

She sighed loudly. “I know. That’s why I’m not going to think about it until I hear from them,” she told me decisively, held up a long arm, and waved at a car coming around the corner.

I squinted. Dusk had fallen making it difficult to see the vehicle traveling in our direction. Bright headlights disguised the dark blue Porsche that pulled up neatly beside us with a gentle rev of the engine.

I blinked at the cabriolet, the roof down and Max sitting comfortably behind the wheel. I didn’t pretend to know the first thing about cars, but the effect of the Porsche wasn’t lost on me.

“Ladies.”

I focused on Max, striking in a navy business suit, his hair disheveled. The suit hugged his broad shoulders and instead of toning down his newfound physique it subtly highlighted it even more.

“What?” He grinned at me.

I opened my mouth to say something, but Maddy interrupted me. “Hurry up, will you?”

She’d climbed into the back seat, no easy feat considering her height and the fact the Porsche’s back seats were more like a rear parcel shelf.

“I can sit in the back,” I protested. It was obvious I’d be a better fit.

“I’d prefer to sit in the back if that’s alright.”

I eyed her suspiciously, but she was already rifling through her bag for something.

“Hop in.” Max indicated I should join him in the front, so I tucked my bag into the foot well and settled into the spotless tan leather seat. I’d hardly done up my seatbelt when Max knocked it into gear and sped off.

Before I could catch my breath, we’d joined the expressway onto the bridge.

“Holy shit,” I muttered, while Max darted in and out of non-existent gaps in the peak hour traffic. I grabbed at my curls which whipped around my face, mocking me.

Max’s loud laughter had my belly jumping and I tried to convince myself it was his driving, rather than his proximity.

“He’s a fucking crazy driver,” Maddy shouted over the wind noise. “Sorry!”

Max spared me a quick glance before thankfully turning his twinkling dark eyes back to the road as he zipped into another minuscule gap in the traffic. “Am I scaring you?”

I honestly wasn’t sure of my answer. Scared? Perhaps. Enjoying it? A little. “Who
are
you?”

Max just grinned and didn’t say anything as he dropped it down a gear and accelerated hard to find another gap.

I turned to Maddy, clinging at the side of my seat as I did so. “I don’t remember him driving like this when we were younger … ”

Maddy rolled her eyes at me. “He spends a few years in the UK, buys a track car and does a few laps over there, and thinks he’s Michael Schumacher.”

I turned back to Max. “You raced cars?”

He shrugged. “Just track days, nothing serious. But I learned how to drive properly while I was over there.”

“Except he can’t seem to figure out he’s not on a race track anymore,” Maddy yelled from the back seat.

“And the Porsche?” I queried, still struggling to reconcile the Max of my childhood to the one sitting next to me.

He grinned again, not taking his eyes off the road. “You like it?”

“It’s nice,” I replied, non-committal, although I was seriously impressed. “Would it be rude to ask how you’re able to afford it?”

“It was an indulgent gift to myself when I was asked to return to Sydney and take on a partner role.” He’d returned his concentration to the road and I was unable to read his expression.

“And his way of forgetting about Sarah,” Maddy added.

I thought I saw a flush of color pass over Max’s features and I wondered if she’d hit a nerve by mentioning his former fiancée. For some reason I felt the need to smooth things over. “Do you still race?“

He glanced at me, a look of interest replacing the earlier discomfort. “I’m thinking of taking her to a track day. Would you be interested?”

“Of course she wouldn’t be interested, you moron! She likes living.”

The banter between sister and brother made me laugh quietly. “I’ll get back to you on that one,” I replied diplomatically.

We remained quiet for the rest of the trip and I found myself genuinely enjoying the wind whipping around my face even if my hair was going to pay for it later. It was different driving with the roof down and I enjoyed looking up at the broad arch of the Harbour Bridge while underneath it. The proximity of the other cars was strangely energizing although I was certain I was currently breathing in excessive amounts of Sydney’s peak hour pollution. It didn’t matter—the view and the cool evening breeze on my face made up for it.

When we arrived at my building, I directed Max to one of the visitor’s spots so he wouldn’t have to park the car on the street. He flicked off the engine and I hopped out of the front seat, grinning happily as I waited for Maddy to climb as elegantly as she could manage from the back seat.

She gave me a withering look. “Don’t tell me you actually enjoyed that?”

I laughed. “It’s not every day I get to ride in a Porsche.”

“So fickle,” she muttered, and it didn’t escape my notice that Max watched our exchange.

We made our way to the elevator and on the seventh floor I unlocked the door and gestured them in to my apartment. “Make yourselves at home. I’ll be back in a sec.”

I rounded the corner to my room and threw my bag on the floor. While I was vaguely in love with my light blue pencil cut skirt that I’d worn especially for the client pitch, I was eager to replace it with a more comfortable pair of jeans. My room was marginally neater than it had been, but I still couldn’t remember where I’d put my clean jeans after washing them on the weekend.

I slipped off the blue skirt and threw it on the mounting pile of clothes to wash just near the entrance to my ensuite, then headed toward my built in wardrobe. I could have sworn I’d been organized enough to put my clean jeans away. Growing increasingly frustrated, I moved from the hangers to the shelves to continue my search. So annoying, I mused, it was typical that in my attempts to be neat I wouldn’t know where to find anything.

At about the same time as I discovered my clean Levi’s and held them above my head in triumph, a head popped around the door.

“Maddy wants to know if you—”

Max’s sentence stopped short as he took in my appearance, his eyes drawn to my half-naked body. I watched helplessly as his eyes lingered on my bare legs and bottom for a split second. When they found mine again, they were darker than usual. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to walk in on you.”

I quickly lowered my jeans to cover myself. I was so used to walking around the apartment half-naked because it was only ever Cate and me, I hadn’t even thought to close my door. “My fault,” I attempted to say lightly, “I should remember what doors are for. What does Maddy want to know?”

“Red or white wine.” His eyes were fixed on the floor and his deep voice seemed softer than normal.

“Red, thanks.”

He nodded briefly, then disappeared from view. I collapsed onto my bed with a huff, still half-naked and holding my jeans tightly. Well, that was awkward. I pulled on my jeans absently as I recalled his eyes only a moment ago taking in my bare legs and found my breath coming quicker than normal.

God, what was happening? That was Max. Maddy’s brother. And I was officially sworn off men.

“Bubbles, what are you doing?” Maddy called out from the kitchen.

I shook myself out of my stupor, quickly slipped on my jeans, and joined her in the kitchen.

“Here I am.” I accepted the wine and followed her into the lounge room. I noticed Max stood on the balcony, glass of red in hand, taking in the view.

The buzzer beeped to signal the arrival of Scarlett, and Maddy headed to the intercom. With a glance in Max’s direction, I shook off my awkwardness and joined him on the balcony.

“Hey.”

After a long moment he dragged his gaze from the twinkling lights glistening over the harbor. “Hey. I’m really sorry about before, I should have knocked.”

Before I could think about what I was doing I reached out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. The heat of it stunned me and he stiffened, so I carefully moved my fingers away.

“I should be more careful.” I wasn’t sure if I was referring to walking around half-naked or touching him.

He released a long breath and focused on the lights reflecting on the water. “Yeah, yeah you should.”

I blinked, not sure how to respond. What was he implying? That I was careless? Or was he suggesting something else entirely?

“Hey guys, which one of Christa’s exes are we demonizing tonight?” Scarlett waltzed onto the balcony, cigarette and lighter already in hand.

I swallowed, thankful for the interruption. “Ask Maddy, she’s the one in charge,” I replied grimly.

“Cigarette?” Scarlett held the packet out in my direction.

“Ask Maddy,” I repeated, “she’s the one in charge.”

Scarlett laughed her soft, low laugh and lit her cigarette. She blew out a cloud of smoke, then looked over at Max. “How about you?”

He smiled at her over my head. “No thanks. Can I get you a red?”

“Absolutely.”

He nodded and left the balcony to get Scarlett’s glass of wine. When he was gone, Scarlett turned to me. “Everything alright?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t it be?”

She shrugged. “Funny vibe out here, that’s all.”

“Just my usual foot-in-mouth disease, I’m afraid.”

“Ah.” Scarlett didn’t push for any more details, all too familiar with my outspoken qualities.

I took another sip of wine and savored both the taste of the hearty Shiraz and the evening view. I knew I should probably ask Scarlett how her day was or how she’d been, but I couldn’t seem to form the words. My mind kept returning to Max’s dark, unreadable eyes and my inability to describe my feelings for him.

“Come on.” At Scarlett’s gentle squeeze of my arm, I let myself be led back inside, grateful she wasn’t the sort of friend to get too precious about me losing myself in my thoughts instead of talking to her.

Inside the others were seated around the coffee table, including Cate, who I hadn’t heard come home. She was already in jeans and a t-shirt so either my powers of observation were at an all-time low, or my tendency to daydream at an all-time high.

“Who have we got tonight?” Scarlett asked as she took a seat beside Maddy and Cate on the three-seater lounge.

“More than one—” Maddy began, but I didn’t let her continue.

“Seriously?”

She gave me a business-like look and I sat down in the single-seater.

“Seriously. If we dedicated a single evening to every one of your suitors, we’d be old women by the time we finished.”

“Ouch.” Max voiced my exact feelings and I studied him quickly. He sat opposite me on the other end of the coffee table, his tall frame relaxed into our armchair. He’d removed the suit jacket and the tie and his earlier brooding mood seemed to have disappeared. All I could read in his eyes was quiet amusement.

I sighed dramatically. “Alright, who is it tonight then?”

“Troubled Troy first up. And so as not to disappoint, we’ll try and make time for Handy Hamish and Jumpy Justin as well,” Maddy informed us.

Quiet amusement turned to laughter and I watched as Max and the girls tried to contain themselves with limited success.

“Jumpy Justin? Or shouldn’t I even ask?” Max managed.

“I can’t believe you’re bringing those guys up, Maddy,” I complained. “They barely count as relationships.”

“Even so, they’re all part of your journey,” she replied, matter-of-fact. “So Christa, run us through Troy first off, won’t you? Then we’ll order some dinner.”

I didn’t bother to disguise the cynicism in my voice. “What, no well-picked musical soundtrack like last time?”

She smiled back at me sweetly. “The Evanescence song
Bring Me To Life
did come to mind, but it seemed overly dramatic.”

I looked at her, impressed. “It’s actually pretty spot-on,” I admitted. “Alright, hold on to your glasses everyone, while I take you on a journey.”

I took a long sip of my wine and eyed each of them over my glass, ignoring Scarlett who rolled her eyes at me.

Hell. If they were going to put me through this, I might as well try to enjoy myself.

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