“Where were you?”

Sweat trickles down my back. “I waited for almost an hour. You didn’t show. You didn’t call or text. I walked here and called Amanda.”

His jaw tightens. “You walked here? Alone? In the dark? After I told you to wait for me?”

“Um. Yes. Yes. Yes and yes.”

“If I say I’m going to be somewhere, I’ll be there. You don’t leave. You wait.”

My hands clench into fists and I crinkle my brow into a frown. “No way. I don’t stand around in silver stilettos in a vacant parking lot waiting God knows how many hours for you to decide it’s convenient to pick me up.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

Bang. Bang. Bang. My heart thuds a warning in my chest. With every word he steps closer to the line I will not cross. Protective I can handle. Possessive and controlling? Not a chance. My hand trembles so violently my watch vibrates against the table. “Why are you so angry? I’m the one who should be angry. You stood me up. I felt like an idiot standing around waiting for you.”

Max bristles. “The plane was caught in turbulence. I couldn’t call out. I texted you and Colton as soon as I was able.”

“I didn’t get your text. My phone ran out of minutes.”

Max’s eyes narrow. “Your phone ran out of minutes? What would you do in an emergency? What if you needed help? You need a reliable phone. A phone that doesn’t run out of minutes. You need a phone that will keep you safe.”

“We aren’t all rich,” I snap. Now I’m shaking and not in a good way. I imagine his foot hovering over the red line at Redemption. Just one inch and it will all be over.

Max pulls his phone out of his pocket and shouts “Colton” at it.

“Yes, sir.” Colton’s voice is as clear as if he was standing right in front of us.

“Makayla needs a cell phone. Something that will never run out of minutes. Long-term plan.”

Long-term plan? Butterflies flutter in my belly. Maybe he isn’t as annoyed as he appears.

“Yes, sir.”

Max tucks his phone back in his pocket. “Done. He’ll bring it to you tomorrow at work.”

Amanda and I share an open-mouthed stare.

“I have a phone, Max.”

“Now you have a better one. If you decide not to be somewhere I expect you to be, you will be able to contact me, and if I am delayed, I will be able to contact you, and if you are in danger, you will be able to call for help.”

“See, I told you,” I say under my breath to Amanda. “He is different in his suit.”

Amanda looks from me to Max and then back to me. “The difference isn’t the suit,” she murmurs. “You kissed him. It changed things.”

Yeah, it changed things. It made him insufferably bossy.

As if she could hear my thoughts, Amanda reaches under the table and squeezes my hand.

“What’s this all about?” she says to Max. “You know it wasn’t safe for her to wait alone in a parking lot.”

Max runs a hand through his hair and looks at me as if I had asked the question. “I didn’t know where you were. I didn’t know if something had happened to you. We searched the hospital and the parking lot. I called the doorman, and he checked your apartment—” His voice cracks then softens. “I was worried, Makayla. I didn’t…know…what to do.”

And with that, my heart stops banging. Max’s imaginary foot retreats from the line. All is right with me and Max.

Dr. Drake chooses this moment to make an untimely appearance with a test-tube rack filled with Medo-Jello shots. He plucks out the Larynx Lime. “Here you go, Mac. Just what the doctor ordered. Open that pretty little mouth for me and say ahhhh.”

A sound erupts from Max’s throat—a cross between a rumble and a growl. My eyes widen, and I suck in a breath and stare at Amanda. She gets the message and slides out of the booth.

“Who feels like dancing? Doctor Drake? Care to give me some medical attention?” She doesn’t wait for his answer, but instead grabs his hand and tugs him toward the dance floor.

“Your turn for the dirty doctor,” he laughs. He takes a step away and then turns back and stares at Max. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“No.”

“Well, you’ll know me well enough by the end of the evening.” Dr. Drake’s face brightens and he points to the giant screen. “Look, Mac, we’re on again.”

Oh God.

Max spins around to face the screen. The Dirty Doctor Dancing caption flashes and a supersize version of Dr. Drake and I hump and pump our way across the screen to LFMAO’s “Sexy and I Know It.”

When Max’s gaze snaps to a rapt Dr. Drake, I shoot out of the booth and grab his arm.

“Please don’t hurt him.”

His lip curls and he shakes off my hand. “You think I’m going to hurt him?”

“You’re looking at him like a lion that has just spotted his supper, so, yes; I think you’re going to hurt him.”

Max’s jaw tightens. “You want him?”

“No, of course not. I thought I made that clear.”

“Then why does he always have his hands on you?”

I shrug. “He’s friendly?”

“Friendly is sitting across the table from someone and having a drink. Friendly is not grinding his dick into my girl’s ass while he feels her up on the dance floor.”