Goldie Locks: Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance - Page 32

He’s protecting me, and Trixie.

It’s why we’re both here.

It’s what people who love each other do, Phoebe.

Before either of us can say another word, his phone rings, making him groan again but he answers it.

Anything to break the tension I guess.

He hits the speaker, so I can hear his phone call.

His way of showing me he’s not hiding anything. Making me feel like an idiot for even entertaining the idea that Max could be the stalker for the second time in as many days.

My mood doesn’t improve too much though, it’s a female voice on the line and she knows Max pretty well by the sound of it.

“Max? Its Barbara Hall, how are you this morning?” The cheerful, overenthusiastic voice asks him.

I watch his eyes narrow, then his face twists. “Uh… Who?” he asks, making me feel a little bit better.

“The agent for the office space? I spoke to you the other day, we made an appointment for Monday but I’ll be down there today showing someone else through. Would you like to meet up? If you’re still interested,” she adds, and Max looks at me.

As if he needs my permission.

Still sore over I can’t even remember what anymore, I shrug. Wondering more than anything when she says the building in question is right across the street from my apartment.

Maybe I could stay here while Max goes and does whatever it is he does.

Maybe I could get a ride back to my apartment, tell Max I need some space to try and get my head around things.

After just one day and a night, I’m head over heels for the man, but finding it difficult to adjust to anything that doesn’t involve him naked with his head between my legs.

Selfish much?

Sure it is, but I haven’t had to think about the real world for a whole day for the first time in years.

I was kinda enjoying it in fantasy land.

“Umm, Sure. Can I keep that open, what time?” Max asks, not committing but still letting her know he’s interested in the place.

Why was he looking at real estate right across the street from my building?

I can’t get that thought out of my head now either, and I’m relieved when Max hangs up, sitting up on the edge of the bed, ready for all the questions he must know I have now.

“I used the building across from yours to watch and see if your stalker would come back,” he tells me. “While I was there I figured it was a good office space for a deal I’m working on with some clients.”

Makes sense.

“Wait. You waited in the building opposite mine, then followed me to work and waited all night,” I repeat aloud, holding my palms up and looking at the yellow envelope again. “Can you see how weird all this is, Max?” I ask.

I have to ask, for my own sanity.

“It doesn’t look good, I know,” he admits. “But yeah, that’s the truth of it. I kinda stalked you too, but only to make sure you were safe from the stalker.”

I shiver in my seat, then holding my fingers to my temples, I groan out loud.

It’s too hard to even contemplate this early, which is supposed to be the end of my working day.

My whole body clock’s out of whack. Getting up in the morning when I’d normally be finishing work, and being in someone else’s house to boot.

“Just don’t hold out on me anymore, okay?” I ask him. “I know you don’t want me to worry, but this is the sort of thing that worries me,” I admit.

He gives a firm nod. “Agreed. I’ll keep you posted from now on,” he says and we both sigh a little, relaxing enough for me to ask if we have to get up just yet.

“We can do whatever you want. I could go check out the office space, but that’s later. We can just lay here for a bit if you want?” he suggests.

“I want,” I admit, making him yelp when my freezing legs meet his under the covers as we both hide from the world and the day for at least another hour or two.

“Sorry for keeping that from you,” he whispers as I snuggle closer once we’re both warmed up.

“I’m sorry I doubted you. And sorry in advance for being jealous of your real estate agent,” I add.

“Really?” he asks, making a face and sounding like I should be kidding.

But I can tell, just from her voice. I know the type. The type that someone like Max should have on his arm instead of someone like me.

I try and tell myself not to even think like that, but old habits die hard.

Everything feels great when I’m with Max, like when we were at the mall yesterday, but then I’d catch our reflection in a shop window and it just looked so strange.

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