Page 28 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?
Ariana went up on her knees, and Morgan’s eyebrows hit her hairline. “She’s gearing up for battle, folks. Hold onto your merlot.”
“But the crushing was unnecessary in this sense,” Ariana explained. “These women were on such a fantastic trajectory that she could have ridden that wave and crushed us like reader-bugs later on. It would have been a much more epic crushing, too.”
Stevie nodded and popped a grape. “Reader-bugs. I like it.” She seemed a lot lighter these days, smiling her way through the meeting.
Max had to wonder if she’d quietly messaged that woman from Sally Sue’s after all.
Maybe Stevie just needed a little breathing room to explore this whole new world on her own—a concept she’d mention to the others.
Olive sat forward. “But maybe that’s why it worked so well for Ella and her entangled feelings. It was a surprise crushing.” She nodded at her own quiet suggestion, always treading so delicately. Leave it to Olive to say very little all night and then bust out with an impressive nugget of wisdom.
“I have to agree,” Max said. Ella turned in her direction and they connected, holding each other’s gaze with a palpable intensity before Max reminded herself that they were in a room full of their friends and couldn’t spontaneously combust and take the whole place down in flames with them. Would be rude. It wasn’t her home.
“Are you going to say why?” Morgan asked, and that’s when Max realized she’d trailed off, her gaze still locked on Ella, who’d had the self-awareness to glance away.
She’d just looked so fucking edible today.
The way her silver necklace with the flower rested on her collarbone.
The slight wave of her hair, and that damn shade of blond Max hadn’t quite been able to duplicate in her mind’s eye until she laid eyes on the real thing and went soft all over again.
Ella had stolen her attention in a way no other woman ever had, and Max’s only explanation was the intricate combination of traits woven together that made Ella, well …
Ella . The cumulative effect mystified, terrified, and excited Max all at once.
She was lust drunk these days, admittedly.
“I am going to say why,” Max said, ordering herself to behave and focus. “But I need a minute to organize my thoughts.”
Ariana shot Morgan a knowing glance, as if to say, See what I mean? She swiveled back to Max and raised a brow (and Ariana had good ones). “You’re off your game these days.”
“Work is killer. Two long mediation sessions today.”
“You sure that’s all? Anything you want to share with the class?”
Max pretended to think it over. “Hmm. No. Nothing I can think of.”
“Ella, what about you?” Ariana asked. “You seem engrossed in the leaves of that plant.”
“I got it at Lowe’s,” Stevie said proudly. “And it’s still alive even with me being distracted lately. Bless its sweet heart.”
“What about me?” Ella asked.
“Anything new going on these days?” Ari asked.
“Other than the move, the new town, new job, and recent fascination with these awesome books, thanks to you all? No. I think I’m at my fill,” she said with a winsome smile.
Max grinned. Proud. Amused. All of it. She raised a finger. “I have my thoughts composed.”
“Ah! Tell us all about it,” Ariana said, and folded her arms as if she couldn’t wait. She clearly knew way too much and enjoyed every delicious second of her triumph.
“I think the dark moment came earlier than anyone was expecting, and by exercising that early pounce, the author,” she turned her copy of the book to remind herself of the author’s name, “Amber Elton, caught us unarmed and emotionally vulnerable, and that made the cut much deeper. I thought we had more good days to explore with these characters, and they were viciously ripped from me.”
“So vicious,” Ella said with a dark nod.
She happened to enjoy that she and Ella were united on this one, even if her opinion might have been easily swayed by her newfound preoccupation with Ella’s lips, hands, and body.
As the book club discussion continued, Max slipped her phone out of her back pocket and typed quickly.
I want my hands on you.
A minute later, she noticed Ella look down at her phone, roll her lips in, and type something before leaping back into the conversation.
Kitchen.
Max understood the assignment, downed her wine, and gestured to the kitchen as if going to open a new bottle.
It was only a couple of moments until Ella appeared with an empty cracker tray.
Laughter floated into the kitchen through the open window that divided the two rooms. She and Ella exchanged a charged look, full of the pent-up tension that had been ping-ponging between them all night, and went about busying themselves in clear view of the others.
Max subtly inclined her head in the direction of the laundry room off the back of the kitchen and casually walked that way.
On board with the mission, Ella followed.
The second the door clicked shut, Max had Ella backed against it, her hands already dragging up beneath the hem of Ella’s sweater, fingers greedy against warm skin.
Ella gasped, but it melted into a sigh of appreciation as Max’s mouth crashed against hers, the kiss desperate and deep, all tongues and need.
Ella clutched at Max’s shirt, yanking her closer, as if she could press them into one, as if that would somehow be enough. It wouldn’t be. Not even close.
Max nipped at Ella’s lower lip, swallowed the quiet sound she made, and then Ella’s hands were everywhere—tangling in her hair, clawing at her back, sliding down to her hips.
She was aroused and very aware of it, a distinct throbbing settled between her legs that she’d give anything to satisfy.
A low groan rumbled through Max as she pressed Ella harder against the door, but then laughter from the other room. A reminder. An unfortunate one.
They stilled, panting. Ella’s hands went soft against Max’s spine. “We should?—”
“I know,” Max muttered, but she stole one more kiss anyway, deep and slow, before forcing herself to step back.
“Dammit.” Ella exhaled sharply, eyes still dark with want. Then, with a smirk, she grabbed the cracker tray off the shelf where she’d set it. “Think they’ll notice I forgot to come back with the crackers?”
Max huffed a breathless laugh, swiped her thumb across Ella’s kiss-swollen lips, and let her go first—because watching her walk away was its own kind of reward.