The Right Fit

Chapter 31

He wanted to smile, but her unyielding tone was less than conciliatory. Confused Antony asked, “Can you explain now in person, about ex-fiancé?”

The waiter arrived with Maxine’s gin and tonic and a selection of marinated olives and crostinis. He asked if they needed anything else and then whisked out of the room again.

Maxine dropped her gaze and smoothed out the napkin on her lap. “What do you want to know about me and Johnny?”

Antony flinched when he heard his name. “Why you still have invitations and ice cream?”

“The ice cream is more of a tired symbol, I think. And honestly, who can throw out perfectly good Mayan chocolate flavored ice cream?”

Antony imagined himself throwing out the tub of ice cream, actually, he thought of nuking it in the microwave first and then putting it in the garbage, but he decided to stay quiet. “And the invitations?” he prompted.

She touched the edges of the cutlery, making miniscule adjustments. He noticed her nail polish was a wine color with gold flecks. Her checks bloomed with a blush. “They remind me of a time when I was the happiest. Even after everything that happened with Johnny, I’d look at them and pretend I was still getting married and that the affair had been a bad dream.”

He flinched. “What?” His voice echoed through the intimate room.

Maxine nibbled on a crostini. “I wished I could wake up and everything would be reset, just like on Dallas when Pam dreamed almost a whole season. It was purely a plot loophole to bring Bobby back, but still, it worked.”

Antony leaned forward, staring at her intently. “What affair?”

Her face froze, and her shoulders dropped. “That’s right,” she said, “I never got a chance to tell you. I kind of feel like the whole world knows.” She reached out and finished her gin in one swallow then put the glass down on the table with a thud. “Telling this story never gets easier.”

A claw reached down Antony’s throat and gripped his stomach.

“I walked in on them in the afternoon, on my bed, with the light streaming in through the window. Johnny always preferred sex in the dark.” She focused on the candlelight. “But that was only with me apparently. He left my life the next day. I haven’t seen or heard from him since. I don’t even know who the other woman was, and in the end, it didn’t matter really. I wasn’t who he wanted.”

Antony’s hands curled into fists. “How could anyone share your bed and not have sex with you.”

She looked up and smiled. “I'll take that as a compliment. Thank you.”

“De rien,” he replied. They held each other’s stare. “I need to ask you something,” she said, reaching

into her small clutch purse. “Would you be able to translate this for me?” She held up one of his flashcards.

His heart pounded like a racehorse. “Je t’aime,” he read. “It means, I love you.”

“And is that true?” Her voice faltered a moment. “Because I’ve already been with a man who lied and the sex was horrible.”

Antony visualized two paths in front of him, he could hear Luca telling him to trust the universe, he pictured Marc getting more depressed, he heard Jax’s lecture about not losing his passion. He couldn’t tell Maxine the whole truth, at least not yet, but this—this thing they were about to do together, jumping into love so committed and reckless—this answer he could give her truthfully. “Oui,” he said. “Very much.”

A new kind of rose bloomed on her cheeks replacing the bitter embarrassment from earlier. She tucked the card away and leaned forward, making her cleavage impossibly more robust. “I meant to tell you,” she purred. “Your bottom lip is very much beautiful.”

The hammering of his heart had moved down to his pants. “Vitamin E,” he replied.

“Is it fully healed?” She picked up an olive and held it against her mouth, letting the oil glisten her lips before sliding it in. “I really missed kissing you,” she said.

He stared at her freshly polished fingernails. “Nice color. Special for tonight?”

“It’s called, Come With Me.”

“Mon Dieu.” He groaned. Antony felt her foot nudge his knee then slide up his leg, finally resting against his crotch.

The waiter arrived with an appetizer plate of Mediterranean dips, glazed shrimp, and Portobello mushrooms.

“Anything else I can get you?” the waiter asked. “The bill please.” Antony coughed.

The entire drive back to his apartment was silent. The car was full of the delicious smells from the takeout containers. Maxine sat with her hands on her lap. Neither one of them had spoken. It was like a building dam of quiet craving, fragile enough to burst at the slightest inclination.

The quiet lingered the ride up in the elevator, even when he took off her coat, and hung it up in the front closet. She stood looking at the large living room while he put the food in the fridge.

After Marc had left, Antony shoved all his hockey items in the storage closet.

He led her down the hallway to his bedroom. The lights from the city illuminated the dark room through the window. He watched as Maxine walked in, her eyes settling on the neatly made king size bed, then to the patio door and its view of the downtown. She stood in front of the glass with her back to him.

The ache of his erection was throbbing and insistent. Still, he forced himself to walk slowly up to her. He put both his hands on her hips and brushed his mouth against her ear, pressing his pelvis into her buttocks.

Her breathing sped up, creating foggy bursts of clouds on the glass.

Antony lifted the back of her dress by handfuls, gathering the silky material to the side. He reached around and slipped his hand down the front of her lacy underwear.

Maxine moaned and moved her hips with his touch. The pattern of her breath on the frosty glass appearing and disappearing reminded him of fireworks made of crystal.

In the darkness, he worked the silkiness of her skin while their bodies rocked in time. Her breath hitched, she was close to coming—and so was he.

Antony spoke, concentrating on the words he’d been practicing in his mind since they’d left the restaurant. His mouth pushed against her ear. “The first time I take you will be fast and hard to obliterate miserable prick from your memory. Then I spend rest of night making love to you nice and slow, tasting every inch of you, the way you deserve.” He took a breath. “Oui?”