The Summer Proposal by Vi Keeland

“I knew it.”

I could barely form words, and I was glad he hadn’t set me down yet, because my legs felt like jelly. “What?”

“Magic, sweetheart,” he said. “We’re going to make magic.”

The smile on my face was so big, I thought my skin might crack. “Would you…like to come up for a little while?”

Max gripped both of my hands in one of his behind my back. “I’d love to come up. But you’d probably never get me to leave, and I also have practice in the morning. Besides…” He pressed closer to me, and I felt his erection dig into my hip. “My brain understands going slow, but my body isn’t quite getting the message. Have dinner with me Friday night. Let me take you out on a real date.”

I nodded. “I’d love that.”

Max pushed the elevator button again, and the car doors immediately slid open. He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine once more. “I didn’t even leave yet, and I can’t wait to see you again.”

I stepped into the car with a fluttering heart and smiled as I shook my head. “No strings attached, right?”

He winked. “The only string might be one I use to tie you up.”

It all sounded perfect. Too perfect. As the doors slid shut, I felt sweat tingling my palms. I rubbed them together and squeezed my eyes closed a moment. I mean, what reason would there be for something to go wrong?





CHAPTER 8




* * *



Max



Ten years ago



“Ummm…what are you doing?”

I shrugged without turning around. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re filling an empty, half-gallon container with milk from that milk dispenser that’s supposed to be for coffee.”

“There’s no sign that says there’s a limit.” I held up the empty coffee cup in my hand. “I paid for a coffee.”

When the milk reached the neck of the plastic bottle, I pulled the jug away and twisted on the cap. I turned, expecting to see one of the ladies who worked here wearing her cafeteria uniform, but instead my eyes landed on a gorgeous blonde I’d never seen before. She looked a few years older than me. I glanced around the room to see if whoever had started with me about the milk might’ve walked away, but nope… No one was around except her. She had her feet propped up on the chair in front of her, and I did a double take catching a look at her ankle.

“What’s going on there?” I motioned to her leg. A dozen or so colorful ice pops were taped around her ankle with black electrical tape.

“I twisted my ankle playing volleyball. It’s starting to swell, and no one has an ice pack. So it was these or beers. I figured ice pops are colder and plus, Andrea will let me return them if I bring them back unopened.”

“Andrea?”

She lifted her chin toward the cashier. “The woman you handed a dollar for your empty coffee cup to justify stealing a half gallon of milk.”

I chuckled. “You’re a stickler for rules when it comes to me, yet you’re stealing ice.”

“I’m not stealing. I paid for them. I’m just going to return them when I’m done, unharmed.”

“But they will no longer be frozen, correct?”

“Probably not.”

“Right. So you’re stealing the ice. The school is going to have to pay the electric bill for that freezing a second time.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“I’ll tell you what, why don’t you return them while they’re still frozen to avoid becoming a thief? I have plenty of ice packs in my room. I’ll give you a few to ice your ankle properly.”

“Why do you have so many ice packs?”

“I’m on the hockey team. I’m always icing something.”

“You’re not just trying to lure me to your room, are you?”

I chuckled. “I’ll go get them for you. You can wait here.”

She tilted her head. “Why would you do that?”

“Because swelling should be iced and…” I shrugged. “You’re hot.”

She smiled, suddenly more shy. “Okay. Thank you.”

I lifted my chin. “What’s your name?”

“Teagan Kelly. What’s yours?”

“Max Yearwood. I’ll be back in a few minutes, Teagan Kelly.”

I jogged up to my room, grabbed a few instant cold compresses and a box of Cheerios, and went back to the cafeteria. Teagan was still sitting in the same place, but she’d removed the frozen ice pops from around her ankle and was now in the process of trying to unstick the pops from the tape.

She looked at the crap in my hands. “What are the Cheerios for?”

“Breakfast.”

“But where’s your milk?”

I grinned and lifted the empty coffee cup I’d bought earlier, pointing to the machine. I’d left my nice, full half gallon in my fridge back in my room.

Teagan laughed. “What’s your major, Max?”

“Math.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Why do you look so surprised?”

“I don’t know. Just doesn’t seem to go with hockey.”