Power Play (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 2)

I don’t know what I am doing. I almost feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. What am I thinking? That I’ll tell him I love him, and he’ll leave Ms. Perfect?

Maxim perks his brow as he runs his hand along his forehead, catching some of the water drops left from his shower. “Alone?”

I shrug. “Yeah.”

He looks at Stella and sends her a soft smile. “Go on, baby. I’ll be in soon.”

“Oh, okay. Are you going to come in after you chat, Posey?”

I shake my head. “My car should be here in a few,” I lie, and surprisingly well. “But it was great to see you.”

“You too,” she says, but she doesn’t move. “Please don’t tell my parents.”

Oh, for Pete’s sake. “I won’t.”

I might tell Shelli, though.

But, really, I know this isn’t Stella’s fault. She doesn’t know how I feel. Not too many people do since I have a hard time admitting it. Stella is just living her life, being confident, and making sure the guy she likes, likes her. I should channel my inner Stella.

With a grin, Stella says, “Thanks.” She then heads inside, shutting the door behind her.

Maxim reaches out, taking my hand in his. Jolts of heat run up my arm, leaving me breathless. “So glad to see you. I wish I had time to spend with you.”

I bite my cheek. “Yeah, I didn’t know you’d have company.”

“It was spur of the moment. She wanted to come, and I missed her.”

I force a swallow. “Are you two together?”

He shakes his head. “No, we’re just hanging out. You know how it is.”

Actually, I don’t. Some would have said we were just hanging out, but maybe I’m the only one who thought so. “Oh. I thought you had stopped talking.”

Maxim grins. “We did for a bit, but I like her a lot. She is just young and in Nashville. She can’t move here.”

I almost scream that I could, but I can’t say that without explaining the real reason I’m here.

He squeezes my hand before pinching my chin with his other. “What did you need to speak to me about?”

I look up, getting trapped in his brown gaze. I want to be like Stella. Or hell, Shelli. To go after the man I want. But the words are stuck in my throat. I gaze into his eyes, and I swear I see desire and feelings swirling deep inside them. My heart is beating so fucking fast that my vision is a little hazy, but I say, “I love you.”

His lips curve more, his eyes bright. “I love you too, Posey. I miss you ter—”

I shake my head, cutting off his words. “No. I’m in love with you.”

He narrows his eyes in confusion. “What?”

“I’m in love with you. Have been for a while.” I take a deep breath as I gaze up at him. He is just staring at me, this puzzled look on his face. “I came here to be with you. I want to be a part of your life. I want to see if this can work. I feel that we—”

“Posey,” he says, cutting me off, and I press my lips together. “I am flattered, but I don’t feel that way about you.”

Oh, look. There’s my heart, shattered on the ground. “What? But—”

“Surely you didn’t think I did? I never acted as such.”

“We slept in the same bed.”

“Because we are friends. A sleepover, yes?”

Oh, the smart Posey who is watching this is urging me to turn away. But the dumb Posey says, “You said I was pretty.”

“You are,” he says, squeezing my hand. “But I’m not attracted to you.”

I pull it from his grip, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Please don’t take offense. I care for you greatly.”

I shake my head, and all at once, my feelings are crushing me. “But you don’t love me.”

“No, I don’t,” he says softly, and I feel as if he is staring a hole in my face. “You are a good girl, a great friend, but I don’t like you like that.”

“You like Stella?”

He nods. “Very much so. She is more my type.”

“Because I’m not.”

He holds up his hands. “No, I don’t mean it that way. You are a very pretty girl, Posey, but not my type.”

I close my eyes as I turn away. I open them again and focus in on his bare feet, and the petty part of me wants to step on his toes. Make him feel the pain coursing through my body.

“I think of you as a sister.”

Well, talk about a slap in the face.

I tear my gaze from his bare feet and up to his beautiful face. Even through my tears, I find him stunning. My eyes settle on his lips. I hate that I never got to kiss him. “A sister,” I say, drawing out the words.