Maxwell looked with disgust at the pile of books. Why had he brought so many? It seemed like an impossible task. Looking out of the window carefully, he decided the sky was dark enough to venture out. And there was only one place he wanted to go.
He was being a creep. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that. It was practically the textbook definition of creep to park outside a woman’s home and simply sit and watch her windows. The blinds were drawn, but he could see the warm yellow light seeping out from the gaps, telling him that Chloe was there.
She had wanted to vampire-proof her studio, he thought for a moment, and it sent the ghost of a smile over his features. That had been sweet of her. Very sweet.
He wondered what Chloe was doing right now. Working, probably. Or sewing. Maxwell thought of his blunder with the dress and how awkward that had made things. She hadn’t wanted him to spoil her, hadn’t wanted him to undermine her hard work. Just another example of how he didn’t fit into her life, he supposed.
Would she keep the dress, he wondered? Probably not. She’d give it away, knowing her. Maybe Julia would get the dress, and though Julia was pretty, she wouldn’t look half so good in it as Chloe would have. It made him even sadder to think that she’d never wear it.
When Maxwell finally drove back to the Sanguis Estate, it was only just in time to escape the dawn. For a moment, Maxwell wondered if greeting the dawn wasn’t such a bad idea. But he wasn’t that dramatic; he’d bear his heartbreak manfully in Miami.
And never see Chloe again.