Kate Hoffmann - The Sexy Devil

He stared across the table at her, his spoon poised in midair. “Which suburb? There are so many.”

She glanced up at him, trying to read the odd expression on his face. Did she really want to spoil this wonderful weekend with a fight? “Does it make a difference?”

“Yes,” he said. “I think it does. This is my last question, Angie. The one I was saving?”

Angela took a ragged breath. He knew the answer already, she could see it in his eyes. Somewhere along the line, he recognized her, remembered her or simply figured out she was hiding something. “You know, don’t you? You know exactly where I grew up.”

Max nodded. “Yeah. I do. You’re from Evanston.

We went to high school together. And college, at least for the two years I was there. And you know that next Saturday we’re supposed to meet at a barbecue?”

Angela nodded. “At your parents’ house. Your mother and my mother are tennis partners. My mother called me the day after we’d met to invite me.”

“A little strange, isn’t it?”

A tiny smile curved the corners of her mouth. “But you don’t remember me, do you. Don’t worry, I wasn’t very memorable. I blended into the walls.”

He stood up and they started their walk back to the cabin, still eating ice cream as they strolled. “Why didn’t you mention this when we met?” Max asked. “Why weren’t you just honest with me?”

She sent him a sideways glance, wondering how honest she ought to be. There was a bit more to her story than just a high school crush. “Maybe I wanted you to think I was beautiful and alluring and a little bit mysterious. Maybe I didn’t want you to remember the plain, nervous girl I used to be.”

“I wouldn’t have remembered that girl. We’d never met.”

“But we have,” Angela said. “A number of times.”

“When?”

“You bumped into me during freshman orientation for high school. You said sorry, and then walked away. And once, I handed you a book you’d dropped in the library. And you sat in front of me for a whole semester in physics class.”

“That’s it?”

She shook her head. “I once interviewed you for the college newspaper. It was right after they started scouting you for the pros. You’d just done that calendar for the athletic scholarship fund.”

“Oh, my God, that’s it,” Max said. “That’s where I knew you from.” He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “When I saw you at the bar that night, I felt as if we’d met before, but I couldn’t remember when. That was it.”

“There was one other time. A few years ago. I was at a sports bar in Evanston, waiting for a table and you were there. And…you looked at me. Across the bar.”

An odd expression, and then one of slow realization crossed his face. “I remember that. I remember how I felt when you looked away. There had been this connection and it shocked me. I’d never had that happen before. Not since then, either.” He paused. “That was you?”

“That was me,” she said.

“I should have introduced myself. I was tempted, but I was with-”

“Another woman,” she said. “Several, I think.”

“My sister,” he said. “I think Lauren and Dave were there, too. It was around Christmas and I was home for the holidays.”

“It’s probably better you didn’t come over. I would have babbled something stupid and you would have walked away wondering who’d let me out of the asylum for the night. I would have been that stupid, silly girl who watched your every move and went home at night dreaming about kissing you.”

“What?”

Now that she had the opening, Angela didn’t want to stop. It was time to tell him everything. Or almost everything. “You might as well know the rest of the story. I had a crush on you in high school. And in college. In fact, that’s why I went to Northwestern. I was supposed to go to Sarah Lawrence, but when I heard you were going to Northwestern instead of straight into the minors, I followed you there. I know, it sounds pathetic, and it really was.”

Max stared at her, his gaze fixing on her mouth. She wanted him to kiss her right then, to reassure her that nothing had changed between them, to put a stop to her clumsy explanations. In all the moments they’d shared over the past week, she’d never felt quite so vulnerable. “A crush?”

“I suppose this changes everything,” Angela said, her voice trembling with emotion. “I’m not the person you thought I was. I’m not exciting or interesting or even the tiniest bit mysterious. I’m just a girl from your hometown who was once hopelessly infatuated with you.”

“How long did the crush last?”

“I don’t know. Six years. Then you went into the minors and I decided to move on.”

“So, you were in love with me and I was just going about my life without ever knowing you had these feelings? You were watching me and dreaming about me and hoping I’d talk to you and-”

“You can stop now,” Angela said. “I’m going to crawl off into the woods and die.” Now that she’d completely humiliated herself, she needed the conversation to move to a new subject. “This is really good ice cream. The sign said it was custard. What’s the difference between ice cream and custard? I never could figure that out.”

“And that night, in the bar, when we met,” Max continued. “That was it. That was probably the last chance for us. If I hadn’t come over to talk to you, you would have left and we never would have met.”

“Well, there’s always your parents’ barbecue,” she said.

“I would have found an excuse not to go,” Max replied.

He seemed a bit stunned by her revelation, by the series of coincidences that had brought them together. Angela knew she ought to continue, to tell him about the Web site and the interview for the book, but he’d already been given too much to absorb. Maybe tomorrow.

Max drew a deep breath, then nodded. “I guess we were lucky.”

“How is that?”

“I was lucky. To have finally recognized what I’d been missing all those years.”

A blush warmed her cheeks. He didn’t seem angry, or offended, or deceived, just…bewildered. A bit amazed. “You’re not angry that I wasn’t honest from the start?”

Max shook his head. “Nope. Hey, I know I have a reputation. Maybe if you’d admitted everything up front, I might not have been…intrigued. But you have me now. And you’re stuck with me.”

Tears swam in Angela’s eyes. “Really? You’re not going to dump me because I’m Angela Weatherby, former Evanston High School wallflower.”

Max hooked his finger beneath her chin and drew her closer, then dropped a kiss on her lips. “As long as you don’t drop me because I’m Max Morgan, former jackass and serial seducer from Evanston High School.”

“Deal,” she said.

“So I guess we’ve told all our secrets and we’re officially in a relationship,” Max said.

She swallowed hard. “I guess so.”

Max dipped his spoon into her ice cream. “You know that means that we can share our ice cream. Can I have some of your strawberry?”

Right now, Max could have anything he wanted, Angela mused. Her heart, her soul, her body. Everything she wanted to believe about him was proving true. He was kind and honest and romantic. And she was falling in love with him all over again.

MAX PACED BACK AND FORTH in front of the fireplace. The night was warm and all the windows in the cabin had been thrown open to catch the breeze. Outside, the trees rustled and he could hear the gentle lap of water on the shore.

He loved nights like this, when everything was so still. He glanced over at the rack that held a selection of fishing poles. He could sit on the end of the pier and fish, but Max suspected that it wouldn’t put thoughts of Angela out of his head. They’d be leaving for Chicago in the morning and he wanted to share this place with her, to show her what her life might be like with him in it.