“Nine point six,” she said. “I’m good in math, too.”

“All right. We’ve been on the equivalent of 9.6 dates. Now, if you figure two dates a week, we’ve been dating for almost five weeks. Five weeks is not too early to take a trip together.”

“It’s too early for me,” she said.

Slowly, it became clear to Max what she was saying. “You don’t trust me,” he said. “Go ahead. Say it. You don’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust you,” she said. “And not because you’re not a great guy. I don’t trust you because I barely know you, Max. And I don’t trust myself. I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t want to see the wonderful life you lead in Florida. I don’t want to be reminded of the differences between us.”

Differences? Damn it, they’d grown up in the same hometown, attended the same schools. Their parents were friends. If she were going to use that as an excuse, then he’d have to call her on it. Or maybe that was the reason she’d kept a few secrets from him. After dating starlets and pop stars, what could he possibly find interesting about a hometown girl?

“Forty-eight hours,” she repeated. “That’s barely enough time to figure out how you like your coffee.”

“You know how I like my coffee,” he said.

“And it doesn’t help that we spend most of our time in bed. I know a lot about your body and about how you like to be touched. But I don’t know how you got that scar on your knee.”

“Bike accident when I was twelve,” he said.

“Or what you like to read,” she added.

“Mostly non-fiction.” He sighed. “All right. I get your point. So, let’s get to know each other right now.”

“I’m still not going to Florida with you,” she said.

“I know you’re stubborn,” Max said.

“Cautious,” she countered.

He bent close and kissed her. “And your lips are incredibly soft.”

“You’re getting off track again,” Angela warned.

Max cupped her breast in his hand. “And that your body seems to fit perfectly against mine. As if it were made for my touch.”

She sighed softly. “Why don’t we play a game? I’ll ask you a question-any question-and you have to answer. We each get ten questions and two passes.”

“Passes?”

“We can refuse to answer twice. I’ll start.”

“All right.” Max sat up and crossed his legs in front of him, then pulled a pillow over his lap. “Shoot.”

“How many women have you slept with?”

He laughed. “Really? You want to know? I’m not sure I ever counted, but it’s not as many as you’d think.”

“More than five hundred?”

“No,” Max said. God, his reputation must be a lot worse than he’d ever imagined. “Where did you hear I’d slept with five hundred women?”

“More than two hundred?”

“Absolutely not,” he said.

“More than one hundred?”

Max shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve had some long dry spells and I’ve had some short-term relationships. Maybe ninety.” He paused. “Jeez, even that sounds like a lot. But it’s really not. If you figure ten on average a year. And that’s since the beginning. A lot of what you hear in the press isn’t true. If it were, I’d be up in the thousands. How many questions was that for you-four?”

“No, just one.”

“Actually, it was four. One main question and three sub-questions.”

With an astonished laugh, she reached out and slapped him on the chest. “You don’t play fair.”

“My turn,” he said. “Same question.”

“None,” she replied.

“None?”

“That’s question two according to your rules. And my answer is none.”

“You’ve slept with me, so it has to be at least one.”

“Oh, but you’re a man. You said same question. So I answered the same question-how many women have I had sex with.”

He grabbed her and threw her down on the bed, stretching out on top of her. “Oh, so this is the way it’s going to be. You’re going to trick me. I might as well give up right now. You’re much too clever, Angela Weatherby.”

“All right, all right, no more tricks.”

For the next two hours, they talked, asking questions, laughing at answers, and learning more about each other than they needed to know. Max carefully avoided questions about her hometown and her high school and college education, waiting for her to volunteer that information herself. And though she had plenty of opportunity, she never once mentioned she’d known him in the past.

When it came time to ask his last question, Max paused. “I think I’m going to save it,” he said. “For what?”

“For later. For when I really want to know something.”

“I can always pass on it.”

“No, you can’t. You’ve had your two passes, remember?” Max pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Now, can we please just stop talking and start getting down to business?”

She growled playfully, then grabbed his face and kissed him long and hard. “Max, if kissing is your business, then I think I’d like to invest.”

6

ANGELA SAT AT HER DESK and stared at her computer screen. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t seem to concentrate on work. Max had been gone for two whole days. He’d called a few times, but their phone conversations had been stilted and short, like two strangers trying to find something interesting to say to each other.

He hadn’t been sure when he was going to get back and though she’d been anxious to see him again, she didn’t want to press him on the matter. She’d tried her very best not to want him too much, but the effort was taking a toll on her heart and her body.

“Look at this,” Ceci said. “Someone posted another comment on Max. SunkissedGrl goes into great detail about how he charmed her, then never called her again.”

“It didn’t take him long,” Angela said.

“You don’t think he went out with this girl this weekend?” Ceci said.

“He could have,” Angela said. “How do I know what he’s been doing? He could be having an orgy down in Florida for all I know.”

“Angie, you need to accept the fact that this guy might really like you. You can’t automatically think the worst of him.”

“Why not? What makes me different from all those other girls? He’s here in Chicago for the summer. Obviously, he wants to find someone to…seduce. Why not me? I was handy, willing.” Angela moaned, burying her face in her hands. “And stupid. I was stupid.”

Ceci reached out and rubbed her arm. “No, you weren’t. You just led with your heart instead of your brain.”

“And now, I’m falling in love with him. After just a few days together. I try to stop these feelings but I can’t. It’s like I’m sitting on the Metro tracks and there’s a big train coming and I can’t move. All I can do is wait for the impact.”

“There’s nothing wrong with falling in love,” Ceci said. “Sometimes you have to take a risk.”

“But don’t you see how ridiculous this is. I’m doomed to fail, yet I can’t help myself. When he finds out about the Web site, he’ll hate me. When he finds out we went to high school and college together, he’ll mistrust me. And when he finds out I’m falling in love with him, he’ll run away as fast as he can.”

“You don’t know that. He may be the exception.”

“Stop saying that!”

“You just assume everything will fall apart,”

Ceci said.

“It’s much easier than thinking about a real future with Max.” She paused. “I can’t believe I just said those two words in the same sentence. Max. Future.

Sometimes this does seem like a dream.”

“It’s real. I was at the ballgame. He was there. In the flesh.”

A shiver skittered down Angela’s spine. Putting the words Max and flesh together created a brand new flood of sensation. “I can’t think about him right now,” she said. “It’s making my brain hurt.”

Angela picked up her cell phone. She’d checked it at least a hundred times already that day. “Stop it,” she scolded. “I feel like some silly teenager. I was this silly teenager, mooning over him, wondering where he was and what he was doing every minute of the day.” She stood up. “I have to go home.”

“We could get some lunch. Eating always takes your mind off your worries.”

Angela shook her head. “No, I’m not hungry.

Maybe I need a nap. I haven’t really been sleeping the last few nights.”

“Nothing to tire you out?” Ceci asked.

“Right.” Angela forced a smile. She grabbed her bag and threw it over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday. Will and I were going to drive out to-”

“Sunday,” Angela said. “I knew that. Monday, then.”

She stepped out into the heat of a Chicago summer day, the street busy and the sidewalk crowded with pedestrians. Angela walked to work most days and had done it so many times that she could find her way home with her eyes closed.

She stopped at the grocery store and picked up a deli container of chicken pasta salad. At the last minute, she bought a bottle of wine. Maybe a few drinks would put her mind at rest and allow her to sleep.

Angela walked home slowly, her thoughts focused on Max. She’d been thinking about him all day, waiting for him to call, wondering why he hadn’t. Of course, she could have called him. There wasn’t anything improper in that. They were sleeping together. The rulebook had been burned the moment they tore off their clothes and jumped into bed together.

She reached into her bag and searched around for her cell phone, then checked again to see if she had any messages. “What does this mean?” Angela murmured. Was this how it would end? He’d just stop calling and move on to another girl?

As she turned the corner and approached her flat, she noticed a BMW sedan double parked on the street. Angela’s heart skipped a beat. It couldn’t be him. Just wishful thinking. He would have called to tell her he was coming back.

She slowly approached and when she was beside the car, the passenger-side window lowered and Max leaned over the seat, a wide grin on his face. “Get in,” he said.