Last Kiss

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the male voice said, obviously amused. “I certainly didn’t mean to startle you…”

“No,” I quickly replied, attempting regain my composure. “I just…I wanted…bread,” I finished lamely, swinging my arms around vaguely to the tower of disgusting wheat rolls. “These ones aren’t white, and that’s kinda what I expected, and I haven’t had a very good night to begin with—“

He cut off my babbling with a small chuckle. “Relax,” he said, “you’re not in trouble. Actually, I was looking for some halfway decent food, too. Maybe you’d care to join me?”

I couldn’t stop the wide grin from spreading across my face. “Well, sure,” I began, “but only if I’m not an imposition.”

“Imposition? YOU?” his eyes again travelled down my body, taking in my thoroughly soaked dress and smudged makeup. “Trust me. If anything, I would be the one imposing on your clearly amazing night.”

I rolled my eyes a little. “Yeah, if you consider spending your 21st birthday at some lame charity event, alone, with terrible food and company an ‘amazing’ night.” I quickly took in his own appearance. His brilliant blue eyes twinkled with humor and contrasted fantastically with his dark suit. A stubble adorned his face, not quite full enough to be considered a beard. Overall, he looked absolutely handsome, and I was painfully aware of my own subpar appearance.

As my eyes met his own again, he smirked. Clearly, I had been caught staring, but he had the good grace to not call me out. Instead, he slowly reached over and lightly took my hand in his. “C’mon,” he said softly, putting his free hand to his lips in his trademark “shh” gesture, “I know where the real kitchens are, and I’m pretty sure they’ll have bread there.”

I couldn’t help it; he was charming. So I let Maxime Talbot lead me down the hallway without a single protest.

Eventually, after walking through a maze of doors and hallways, we found ourselves in an incredibly shiny kitchen. Everything was covered in stainless steel--the counters, the utensils, the appliances. It was a glistening chrome world of sterile metal. It suddenly reminded me of a hospital, and I fought to repress a shudder, unconsciously taking a step closer to Max.

He instantly looked over and me and frowned a little bit. “Are you cold? I…didn’t exactly think about how it’s cooler in here and your dress is wet and…” he trailed off, quickly shrugging off his tuxedo jacket.

I started to explain that I was merely freaked out by the idea of a hospital, but before I could react, Max’s jacket covered my back as his arm went around my shoulders. The sudden rush of warmth, as well as the proximity of the extremely good-smelling superstar, left me dumbstruck for a moment, and I could do nothing more but reach up and pull his jacket closer.

Smiling gently, Max used his free hand to brush a wet lock of hair from my cheek. “How about I get us some food, hmm? You just sit here and relax,” he said softly, his voice little more than a murmur. I managed to nod slowly, not losing eye contact, and he silently padded across the floor and to the fridge.

Alone, I struggled to regain a sense of coherent thought. What was happening? Why was I sitting here wrapped up in Max Talbot’s jacket? Where was my white bread? There were so many unanswered questions…

I studied him as he reached into the fridge, pulled out some containers, and began to put things together. After a moment, he opened the microwave with a click and pushed some buttons. The machine promptly started with a whirr, and Max let out an unmistakable “Aha!” before turning to me with a childlike grin plastered on his face.

“American microwaves are super confusing,” he said, shaking his head a little. “I actually had a Canadian one imported for my apartment. I just couldn’t figure out your lame technology.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling, and pushed myself to my feet. “What’s so hard about American microwaves?” I said, laughing a little. I walked over to his side, pointing to the microwave. “It’s really not that difficult.”

“Oh, but it IS!” Max replied quickly. “Sometimes when you hit a number, it starts automatically. Sometimes? It doesn’t! And what the HELL is a baked potato setting, and how am I supposed to know how heavy my potato is? I don’t carry around a scale…”

Unable to resist a giggle, I gently placed one hand on his arm. “You’re supposed to guess. And the microwave has express setting things, which is why sometimes it starts and sometimes it doesn’t. It’s really not that hard.” I playfully nudged him before leaning against the counter, still grinning like a fool.

Max sighed lightly, a grin of his own adorning his face. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I’ll just have to hire someeooneeee to help me learn the magical ways of the American microwave.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Don’t worry, I’m sure plenty of girls would adore teaching the great ‘Max Talbot’ how to use a microwave.”

With a wink and a sly grin, Max turned to the microwave as the final beeps of completion rang out through the kitchen. “Oh, I’m sure they would,” he began, pulling out a covered dish and dropping it onto the silver counter, “but there’s kinda this one girl I had in mind for the job.”

I raised one eyebrow. “Oh?” I questioned. “And who would this be? Adrianna Lima? Mila Kunis? Megan Fox?” Biting my lip in an unidentifiable emotion, I quickly averted my eyes to the floor.

“No,” Max said softly before pausing. When I looked up, he was simply staring at me. My breath caught in my throat from the intensity of his gaze, and my heart gave an odd lurch. Max slowly took a step towards me. “I would tell you her name, but I unfortunately don’t know it yet…maybe she would grace me with the honor of knowledge?”

“Au…Audrey,” I managed to squeak out, suddenly more unsure of myself than I had been all evening.

“Well Audrey,” Max said warmly, his blue eyes burning deeply, “I dunno about microwave teaching, but Flower…that is, Fleury…is having a little get together tonight. I would love it if you would accompany me.”

My mind raced at a million miles per hour. Max Talbot, one of the most gorgeous men on the planet, was asking a plain-jane college girl to go to a party with him? I mean, sure we had been flirting all night, and sure I was dressed up, but surely he couldn’t actually be showing interest in me. Yet the fire in his eyes denied the ideas coursing through my head, and I had no choice to accept reality. For unknown reasons, Max was interested in me and acting on it, and I certainly was interested right back.

My mind quickly flitted to Violet. She would certainly get a kick out of this; she had only been trying to convince me to date a Penguin for ages now. Half of me wanted to pull out my phone and text her immediately, but the classier part of my brain realized that Max would probably be insulted.

So, instead, I drew upon all of my courage and pushed my shoulders back, feigning the confidence that I definitely did not have. “I would love to,” I responded slowly, locking eyes with him. I saw a light flash briefly in his own before a huge smile spread across his face.

“Perfect!” he replied. “But first, I believe that you’re still hungry, eh?” Turning around, he grabbed the plate that he had been working on, and the smell of delicious pasta hit my nose. He reached over into a cabinet, pulling out a white roll, then held the food out to me, raising both of his eyebrows.

I couldn’t contain my excitement as I practically skipped to his side, grabbing the plate and roll with a twirl, and instantly began eating. Max’s laughter rang out through the room as he shook his head. “I’m guessing your birthday is going a little better now?”

I nodded while chewing a large mouthful of bread. Swallowing quickly, I smiled up at him. “Just a little more than a little.” With that, I quickly returned my attention to the roll, savagely tearing off another piece with my teeth.

He laughed again, then grabbed a roll and plate for himself and began eating in silence.

Once the grumbling had stopped in both of our bellies, I gently put my plate aside and slid down the side of the cabinet to the floor, pulling my knees into my chest. Max noticed and smiled before putting his own plate aside. With a smirk, but without a word, he padded off to a side room.

Frowning, I thought about following him, but felt way too lazy after eating such an incredible meal. Instead, I slowly shut my eyes and sighed contentedly. My terrible night had certainly turned around in a short period of time.

“Hey,” I heard Max say, and I immediately opened my eyes. I hadn’t heard him re-enter the room, and he stood in front of me, a teasing smile on his face. “You weren’t falling asleep, were you?”

Chuckling, I shook my head. “No,” I said, yawning a little, “just relaxing.” Reaching behind myself, I used my arms to push myself to my feet, carefully smoothing out the fabric of my beautiful red dress.

Max lightly nudged me. “Good,” he said, a little too quickly. “I don’t want my date for tonight to be falling asleep, okay? That doesn’t look good for me.”

Frowning a little at his remarks, I shook my head slightly. “I’ll uh…be awake, okay? No biggie…”

“You better be,” he replied, again a little too quickly. Suddenly, his entire demeanor changed and the goofy smile I had come to know appeared once again. “So this is your 21st birthday, right?”

“Y-yeah,” I said softly, a little unsure about what had just happened. “But I, uh…I don’t drink.”

Max instantly frowned. “What do you mean, you don’t drink? Everyone drinks. Drinking is a social thing.”

I shook my head, frowning back. “I just don’t. A lot of my family became alcoholics, and I know about the dangers of that. Plus, why in God’s name would I put a drug-like substance in my body that puts me out of control with who I am? It’s just…drinking is one of the stupidest things ever.”

A cloud passed behind Max’s eyes, but only for the briefest of moments. “Well…alright then,” he said, obviously annoyed. “Whatever. You do what you want.”

I bit my lip, getting a little pissed off, but before I could say or do anything, Max turned around and placed a bottle of expensive-looking wine and two glasses on the counter. Pivoting back to face me, his expression was once again a happy, content one. “Are you ready to go?” he queried.

After what had just transpired, I had doubts about going with Max. Clearly he wasn’t entirely the sweet guy I initially thought he was. But my heart still thumped unevenly whenever he looked at me, and I couldn’t resist the smile that crept onto my lips.

“Yessir, I sure am,” I replied with a chuckle, lightly taking his arm.

It was one date. One measly date. If I didn’t have fun, I could just never talk to him again. Besides, his attitude was probably just from exhaustion or something. I mean, the guy was an absolute gentleman! Plus, he had made me a delicious meal. And Violet had never mentioned that anything was strange about him, and she had definitely told me about the whole “Paul-Martin-cheating-on-his-girlfriend-two-times” spectacle. I was probably imagining things. Besides, it was one date.

What’s the worst that could happen?