The Summer Proposal by Vi Keeland

“Tell me about it. Is it an apartment or house?”

“It’s a house. It’s in the hills. It’s nice. It has three bedrooms and a pool with a nice view. It’s owned by some actress who’s going to work on two films in Europe, so she’s renting it fully furnished, and it’s only a one-year lease, so I can get something more permanent after that.”

More permanent. My neck felt like someone had reached in and tied it in knots. I forced a smile. “That sounds great. When does the lease start?”

“July first.”

My stomach dropped. “Oh, wow. That’s so soon.”

He looked down and nodded. “Yeah.”

The stove buzzed, letting me know the preheating was done. I was glad for the momentary distraction and a chance to hide the emotions probably flashing like a neon sign on my face. Turning around, I took the tray of food from the top and popped it into the oven, then fiddled with the knobs on the stove to buy more time before I had to look at Max again. “I made chicken Milanese and risotto,” I told him. “The chicken just needs to go in the oven to warm.”

When I was all stalled out, I finished my wine and poured a second glass. “Why don’t we go sit in the living room while we wait?” I started to walk without waiting for a response, but Max caught my hand.

“Hey.” He looked at me carefully. “You okay?”

I nodded.

“The first night we met, you told me you weren’t good at lying because your face gives you away. I guess you haven’t lied until now, because you really are a shit liar.” He pulled me close and brushed a stray piece of hair from my face. “Come here. What’s going on?”

“It’s just been…” I shook my head. “An emotional week, I guess. And the thought of you leaving so soon… Well, it sucks.”

Max smiled warmly. “What happened this week?”

I wasn’t sure why it felt awkward to tell him I’d cut ties with Gabriel, but it did. Maybe it was because without that barrier in the way, things between us were different. I hoped it would be a change for the better, but I took a deep breath before answering.

“Gabriel said he made a mistake. He wanted to go back to having an exclusive relationship.”

“Okay…”

“I told him I didn’t want that. Then he offered to keep things the way they have been, but I told him things have changed for me, and I wanted a clean break.”

Max’s grip around my waist loosened. He looked like I’d caught him off guard. Which maybe I had, but I’d hoped for a happier reaction. There wasn’t even the hint of a smile on his face. As I watched, he seemed to grow almost somber.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he finally asked.

I nodded. “I care about him. But I deserve more than he could offer me. I finally realized something had been missing—even before he did what he did and left for London.”

Max was still so damn quiet. He just kept staring at me, which made me freak out inside. I couldn’t take tiptoeing around anymore, so I decided to lay all my cards on the table. “You made me realize something was missing. This time we’ve spent together and how much you’ve grown to mean to me was so unexpected. But sometimes that’s how it happens, I guess.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t want things between us to end when you leave, Max.”

His arms, which had been wrapped loosely around me, fell away completely.

Oh my God. He doesn’t want the same thing.

I told him I’d fallen for him, and his reaction was to let go? My inner self-protection mechanism jumped in before my heart or brain could catch up. I backed up. “Oh God. You don’t feel the same way.”

“Georgia…” Max reached for me, but I put my hands up.

“It’s fine. I understand. Really, it’s fine.” I scurried to the stove, grabbed an oven mitt, and took out the chicken. Of course, it had only been in there for two minutes, and the timer still had fifteen more to go, but I needed to do something.

Max walked up behind me. He put his hands on my shoulders, but I wiggled out of his grip, went to the refrigerator, and started pulling out random crap—a bottle of wine, even though more than half was left in the one on the counter, grated cheese, salad dressing, a head of lettuce, butter—none of which I needed.

Max watched, staying put near the stove where I’d left him standing.

“I didn’t make a salad. I should make a salad.”

“Georgia, talk to me, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. For some reason, that word pissed me off. I stopped in place. “Don’t call me that.”

Max ran a hand through his hair. “Can we just talk for a minute?”

“What is there to say? I think your face already said it all.”

“No, it didn’t. So how about you give me a chance to actually say something?”

“Fine.”

He gripped my hips, and the next thing I knew I was in the air and then deposited in a chair at the counter. Max cupped my cheeks, and my emotions took a hard bounce left. Tears threatened.

“I didn’t expect you either, Georgia. I like you. A lot. In fact, I can’t think of a single thing I don’t like about you. The one thing that kept you from being perfect was that dumbass who had you. But now…” He shook his head. “There’s nothing I can find to dislike. You’re smart, beautiful, aware of exactly who you are and what you want, and you have the balls to go for it all. That might be what I find the sexiest about you—you’re fearless. Even tonight. You’re sexy as shit naked, but you don’t have to be naked to be sexy.”