Maxim (Carolina Reapers 10)
“Evie!” McKittrick’s voice called from behind me where I was chatting with Fiona, Bristol, and London. I smiled at him as he waved, looking totally dapper in a royal blue suit. “You look great!” he said, and I thanked him. “You want to dance?”
I glanced toward where Maxim and Sterling and Brogan were in a deep conversation about something as they leaned against the bar, then shrugged. “Sure,” I said, taking his hand and he led us onto the crowded dance floor.
He’d always been so kind to me, especially when Mila and I first arrived to Charleston. There was something to be said about being the new kids in town, and we’d accompanied him and Greene and some of the other rookies to several clubs before. He’d become a good friend, one who always got me to laugh or dance when I tried to hide in the corner while never giving off the I’m into you vibe. In fact, I’d helped him with a few of his pick-up lines at said clubs that resulted in him earning more dances with other women, not that he needed the help.
“This is a good one,” he said, grinning goofily at me and moving from side to side as the upbeat tune filtered through the speakers in the ceiling.
“I like it,” I said, mirroring his movements, and laughing when he took my hand to spin me dramatically. The song was an instrumental version of some golden oldie, but it had great beats.
He took my other hand, twisting us this way and that.
“So,” I said, glancing around us as we came together before pushing apart again. “Who do you have your eye on tonight?”
McKittrick smirked, and I pitied whatever woman he did set his sights on. He was a great guy and all, and no one could deny how damn hot he looked, but he was pure danger mixed with way too much fun. I’m pretty sure he’d never said no to any idea in the history of time, no matter how terrible the idea was. Like the time him and Greene decided to climb on top of the bar at one of the clubs we’d gone to and start stripteasing while chugging shots of vodka straight from the bottle.
“I’ve clocked half a dozen single women here tonight,” he said, motioning toward a couple different groups of women hanging out throughout the ballroom. “But I’m leaning toward her,” he said, very slyly spinning me so I could see the blonde he was talking about. She was gorgeous, but had a humble look about her that screamed no-nonsense to me. Almost like a lawyer or teacher vibe.
I couldn’t help but laugh as he drew me back to him.
“What?” he asked, a grin on his face.
“She’s beautiful,” I said. “She just looks…”
“Like she’d put me in time-out for being a bad boy?” he finished for me.
“Omigod, McKittrick,” I said, playfully smacking his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”
“This is true,” he said, then checked out the blonde again. “But maybe she needs that.”
I shook my head, chuckling. “Maybe. Either way, I’m wishing you all the luck—”
We bumped into a chest I knew all too well, and the words died in my throat. Maxim stood in the middle of the dance floor, eyeing McKittrick like he was planning on how best to annihilate him.
“Excuse you,” McKittrick said, but his eyes were pure tease. “We were dancing.”
“You were leaving,” Maxim all but growled, and I bit back a laugh. His eyes flashed to mine, and I pressed my lips together at the promise in his gaze.
McKittrick laughed, shaking his head as he released me. “Fun’s over, Evie,” he said, winking at me. God, he wanted to get into a fight. I swear it. “We need to go to Orchid again,” he said as he slowly backed away. “I need your cleverness there.”
I waved him off. “Good luck with…” I motioned to where the blonde still chatted with her friends.
“Since you’re the queen of luck, I’m taking all that energy!” he called, spinning on his heels and heading straight for the blonde.
“You going to dance with me now?” Maxim asked, gently tugging me against his chest. “Or am I not good enough?”
I gave him a faux pout as I slid my arms around his neck, the music switching to a slower tune. “Poor Maxim Zolotov can’t handle a little competition for my attention?”
Maxim cocked a brow as he moved us around on the dance floor, our bodies flush and melding together so perfectly as the melody directed us. It was like we’d been made to dance together, and since we’d done so many other things well together, I wasn’t all that surprised.
“Is he competition?” Maxim asked, and it took me a few seconds to realize he was seriously asking.
A laugh ripped from my lips, so hard and fast I almost doubled over, but Maxim kept me tight against his body as we danced. I cleared my throat at his curious look, then shook my head. “No. Not even a little bit,” I said. “I told you we’re friends. Mila too. Before I moved in with you, we used to all meet up and go dancing and get drinks. You know, stuff people do to relax.”