When I Was Yours

“Max,” I grunt out, practically choking on the heat burning up my throat. “The guy you met yesterday, the one who helped you when you dropped your bag, did he tell you all of that, about me…watching—” I can’t even finish that sentence.

Her face clears, and she smiles sweetly, giving a light shrug, as she hitches her bag up her shoulder. “Can’t say I’ve met a Max.” Her lips innocently purse together.

She’s so met him. And she so knows I’ve been watching her. I should want to die from the horror of the embarrassment.

But I’ve realized one glaring fact. Even while knowing all about me stalker-watching her, she still wanted me to ask her out.

I want to marry her on the spot—or at the very least, get her naked and fuck her.

“Anyway, I have to run—”

“Wait, what?”

“I have to go,” she says on a smile, taking a small step away.

“No, wait. Go out with me. Right now. I’m not a serial killer, and I’m really not a stalker, honestly. I just liked watching you sketch—in the non-weirdest way possible.”

I give her my best smile, and she giggles.

“You know where I live. You’re safe with me. And I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. You name the place. Just…just say yes. You won’t regret it. I swear.”

And there’s the Adam Gunner I know. About fucking time he showed up.

A big smile pushes up her lips, and if I thought she was stunning before, she’s fucking resplendent now.

Heat starts in the center of my chest and quickly spreads throughout the rest of my body. Like hot air filling a balloon and rising up to the sky, she has me floating.

“I’ll let you know,” she says, taking another step away.

What?

That takes me back a step. I didn’t expect that response. It’s either yes or no usually. Well, actually, it’s never no.

A girl has never turned me down before.

“You’ll let me know?” I practically choke out the words.

“Yeah.” She smiles. “I’ll let you know.” Then, she turns and starts to walk away again.

But I’m not giving up that easily.

“And why can’t you say yes now?” I can feel my confidence starting to waver.

This never happens to me. She’s like my very own brand of kryptonite, and oddly, I like it—a lot.

Evie turns to face me but continues walking backward, that stunning smile still on her face. “Well, I figured one more day to wait wouldn’t hurt you, considering it’s taken you a week to ask me out.”

I’m pretty sure I just fell in love.

Well, it’s probably more like lust—big lust—but whatever. I have to have her—now.

I take a step toward her, following her. “I think you’re fucking amazing.”

Her smile gets wider, and she laughs, biting down on her bottom lip. “And I think you might be a little crazy. Oh, I forgot to give you this.”

Jogging back to me, she pulls her sketchpad from her bag. She opens it up and tears a page out. She shoves the sketchpad back in her bag and hands me the piece of paper. “I’ve been working on it all week. I think it’s finished.” She meets my stare, blinking those stunning whiskey-colored eyes of hers up at me.

My breath catches.

I have never wanted to kiss a girl more than I do her in this moment.

Taking a step back, she breaks the connection. She lifts a hand, her perfect fingers wiggling good-bye to me. “I’ll see you tomorrow. And it was nice to finally meet you, Adam.”

“Wait…I never told you my name.”

“I know.” She grins. “Max told me.” And on a cheeky wink, she turns and jogs up the beach, leaving me standing here.

I watch her for a long moment, unable to look away. Then, I finally tear my eyes off her, remembering the paper in my hand.

I turn it over and look at it.

It’s a drawing of my beach house from her vantage point on the rock. The sun is setting in the background, and I’m standing on the balcony, watching the artist who’s sketching me.

She was watching me, too.

A stupid grin lifts my face, and my heart starts to beat out of my chest.

I think I’ve just met the girl of my dreams, the girl who I didn’t even know I was dreaming of.

My hands are shaking. They’ve been shaking pretty much all day. Every time I think about Adam, the shakes start. How I haven’t managed to break a cup, I’m not sure.

He looks the same yet different. He looks hardened to the world. The light that used to live in his eyes has dulled. But he’s still as handsome as ever, if not even more so with age.

Adam never looked like a boy. He was always very much a man, even at eighteen. But now, he’s reached his full potential. He seems even bigger somehow.

Or maybe it was just his anger that made him seem bigger, more imposing.

All that anger, and it was reserved solely for me.

The guy I left behind all those years ago was not the man I saw today.

I have to wonder if I’m to blame for that.

I glance at the clock. Five minutes until the end of my shift. Five minutes until Adam is here, and he wants his answers.

Answers I can’t give him.

So, I’m going to have to lie, something I never wanted to do.

I thought there was a slim possibility that I might see Adam in Beverly Hills, as his studio is here. I wasn’t hoping to see him—well, maybe I had a little bit of hope. But I also knew what kind of complications would come from seeing Adam.

It’s not like Adam and I run in the same circles. I basically come into Beverly Hills for work, and then I go home to my apartment in Culver City. So, I thought the chances of seeing him were minimal. I mean, I work in a coffee shop that’s inside a hotel, for God’s sake. Never did I expect for him to come in here.

Why is he staying at the hotel anyway? Surely, he has a house in Beverly Hills.

I only got this job through a friend who I worked with back in San Francisco. She’d left there and moved here to be with her boyfriend, taking the manager’s job.

When I knew I would be moving here, I got in touch with her, and lucky for me, her assistant manager was pregnant and would be taking maternity leave soon. She couldn’t guarantee me that there would be a permanent job at the end of the six months. So, I’m going to look for another job while I’m working this one.

I had to move back up this way because Casey, my kid sister, announced that she was going to the University of California, Los Angeles.

When Casey had told my dad and me that she wanted to study nursing at college, we knew she’d apply to the University of California, San Francisco, but we didn’t know she’d also apply to UCLA. She applied and was accepted to both, and she chose UCLA. She told me she missed home. And UCLA was as close to Malibu as we could get.

I can’t say that I wasn’t terrified at the thought of moving back up this way, being close to Adam again. But I also can’t deny that the thought of being closer to Adam, although terrifying, didn’t excite me a little, too.

But that’s the thing about us Taylors. We’re a package deal. Where one goes, so do the other two. So, there was no choice.

We rented an apartment in Culver City. It’s not too pricey for Los Angeles, and it’s close to UCLA. For Casey, it’s only a twenty-minute drive to school, and for me, it’s a twenty-minute drive to work.