The Summer Proposal by Vi Keeland

“You want to wait here?” Max looked at my shoes. “Those don’t seem like they’re made for dog walking. And I have to do once around the block or they’ll be maniacs all night. I won’t be more than fifteen minutes.” He walked to a round table in the entryway and opened a drawer, pulling out two leashes.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll snoop if you leave me here all alone?”

Max smiled. “Have at it. I keep the whips and chains in the drawer next to my bed, if you want to check them out.”

He was kidding. Wasn’t he?

Max chuckled. He leaned down and brushed his lips with mine, then spoke against them. “I’m kidding. But you’re welcome to look around. I don’t mind. Make yourself at home.”

“Thank you.”

After the doors slid closed behind Max and the dogs, I turned around to check out the apartment. A few steps down from the marble entryway was a ginormous living room.

“Holy crap,” I mumbled as I walked in. I didn’t live in a typical, small New York apartment, yet my entire place could fit in this living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows acted as artwork, showcasing the city illuminated outside. I headed to check out the view first. Max lived on West 57th, so in front of me was the twinkling city, but to the left was the river. It was a clear night, and a full moon glittered a straight path across the water. Absolutely stunning. I could’ve stayed here all evening staring, but I tore myself away so I could sneak a peek at the rest of the place before Max got back. Of course I wanted to snoop a bit.

The living room was open to the kitchen, which was equipped with state-of-the-art appliances, a built-in coffeemaker, and a glass-front wine refrigerator. On the opposite side of the room, a long hall opened to a few doors, including a large bathroom and an office. At the very end was the master bedroom. I flicked on the light and found a beautiful, masculine, carved-wood bed elevated on a platform to take full advantage of yet another wall of windows—this time with a view of Central Park. I stood at the edge of the doorway, not wanting to invade his privacy, even though he’d invited me to look. But I did note a stack of books on his nightstand. All in all, his apartment was nothing like I’d expected. It had a mature vibe, not the bachelor pad I’d envisioned.

When Max returned, I was back in the living room enjoying the view. The dogs ran right to their water bowls while he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, dropping a kiss on my shoulder. “Did you check out my nightstand to make sure there weren’t any whips?”

I turned around in his arms and ran my fingers through his hair. “Who says I’m not into that? Maybe I’m disappointed I didn’t find any.”

Max’s eyes sparkled. “Then I guess you didn’t look in my closet.”

My eyes widened, and he chuckled. “I’m kidding.”

Four and Fred finished their drinks and came to sit at our feet. Four nuzzled his wet face against my bare leg, like a cat.

“They weren’t interested in me when we walked in, so I didn’t get to say hello.” I bent down and lifted Four, scratching the top of his head with my nails while using my other hand to pet Fred. “Hi, Fred. I’m Georgia. It’s nice to meet you.”

Fred leaned in and licked my cheek. I laughed. “Ah, I see you take after your father with the ladies.”

Max smiled. “What can I get you to drink?”

“I’ll take a glass of wine, if you’re having one.”

While Max opened a bottle, I spent a little time with the dogs. After he poured two glasses, he tossed a ball down the hall, and Fred took off running.

I stood with Four in my arms. “Boy, and here I thought I was winning him over. All it takes is a ball and he loses interest.”

I walked into the kitchen, and Max held out his arms. “Come on, puffball, you too. It’s my turn.” He set Four on the floor and bribed him with a biscuit before passing me wine.

“I’m glad I didn’t walk them with you.” I lifted my foot into a flamingo stance and rubbed at my toes. “The strap on this shoe has a sharp edge and feels like it’s trying to cut into my toe.”

Max set down his wine and took mine from my hand, placing it on the counter. “Let me take them off for you.” He gripped my waist and lifted me up onto the kitchen counter, then raised my foot and unbuckled the strap to my sandal. “These are sexy as shit. But I’d rather you be comfortable here.”

I really loved watching him take my shoes off for some reason. It was a sweet gesture, but perhaps also a prelude to him removing other articles of clothing sometime in the near future.

I took a deep breath to focus. “Your apartment is nothing like I thought it would be.”

“No? What did you expect?”

I shook my head. “I’m not sure. You’re an athlete, so I guess a big-screen TV and maybe a room with a workbench and exercise equipment. I think I was expecting more of a bachelor pad.”

Max lifted the foot he’d freed from the angry buckle and kissed the red welt running across the top before going to work on the other. “Two years ago you would’ve been right. I had an apartment in Chelsea that was basically a nicer version of a frat house. Two other players lived in the building, and if I didn’t answer my door, they would knock it down. I had to replace the front door four times.”