Of course I hadn’t had any dates lately, but Max didn’t need to know that. As confident as I was in my beauty, it would appear that being big and beautiful hadn’t translated to a man tripping head-over-heels in love with me—not yet anyways—a fact that was beginning to make me slightly nervous. At thirty-two, my clock wasn’t quite ticking just yet, but I did feel that I was ready to fall in love.
“Then tell me,” Max said, jolting me out of my thoughts. “Are you keeping secrets from me?”
“Secrets?” I laughed a little at the idea. In the fourteen years that Max and I had been friends I had never been able to keep a secret from him. But this time I was determined to do it. My dignity depended on it.
I sat down on the bed next to him and slid my hand casually back across the bedspread toward the tights and leotard, now behind him on the bed.
“So are you saving yourself for me, is that it?” he asked and met my eyes.
Chapter 2
With Max sitting so close I could feel the heat of the outside of his thigh pressed against my jeans. I tried to keep my breathing steady as I looked into his eyes. I knew that he was joking. I’d seen the women he dated, and they did not look like me. But he was always lavishing me with praise, as if I was just as beautiful. Sometimes, I wasn’t sure if he was teasing me or being serious, but he never put me down.
“I’m going to a class,” I said quietly, snatching up my black leotard and tights.
“What kind of class?” He leaned back on my bed, placing his hands behind him.
“Sort of a dance class,” I said, thankful that I’d gotten the leotard out of the way before he could spot it.
“What’s this?” Max sat up with a piece of paper in his hand.
I thought nothing of it at first, until I realized what it was.
“Max, give me that!”
My heart was pounding. I so did not want to deal with telling him about this right now. But he was already reading it.
“Pole dancing,” he read out loud. “Why is this highlighted and surrounded by stars?” He glanced up at me as I lunged across the bed, grabbing the list out of his hand.
“Mine!” I said just a little too loudly, and he laughed.
“Is that the dance class? Pole dancing?” He narrowed his eyes as he looked at me.
“Maybe,” I said, tucking the list into my pocket.
“So that’s what the leotard is for.” He had a mischievous grin on his face, and I was annoyed that he’d seen the outfit despite my best efforts to get it out of his eyesight. “Put it on. Let me see you in it.”
“No way, Max.” And he was not going to convince me otherwise. “Some things are private.”
He was quiet for a few seconds as he looked at me intently. “Even from me?”
Oh, definitely from you, I thought.
“This has nothing to do with you, Max, so wipe that pout off your face. It’s not happening.” I got up from the bed, leotard in hand. “The only people that are going to see me in this are the teacher and the other students in the class.”
“Well, where can I sign up?”
I laughed and threw my leotard at him. “Only if you try this on first.”
He grinned and shook his head. “Not my style, Sam. But I think you’ll look fantastic in it. I dare you to wear just that to class. Don’t cover yourself up so much.”
“I know, I know, I’ve lost so much weight, I should be proud, blah, blah, blah,” I said, walking across the room towards the mirror. I had lost about seventy pounds over the past year, leaving me at my new svelte size of one hundred and eighty pounds.
“No, Sammy,” he said and sat forward a bit on the bed. “You should be proud no matter what you weigh, because you’re gorgeous. Nothing can change that.”
I smiled at him in the mirror and he smiled back. He always knew just what to say to make me feel better.
“So are you going to do it?” he asked, his smile turning devilish. “Just the tights and the leotard, nothing else.”
“Maybe. But you won’t find out because you’re not going!”
“Fine.” He threw himself backwards on my bed, silent for several seconds.
I wondered what he was thinking, as there was nothing particularly interesting about the ceiling that he seemed to be studying so intently.
“So what’s the paper for?” he asked. “I noticed it’s like a list.”
“None of your business,” I said, turning back to the mirror, trying to look as casual as possible.
“So many secrets.” He frowned and stared at my reflection. “I thought I was your best friend.”
Max was very good at laying on the guilt trip, but I didn’t have time for any of it at the moment.
“Best guy friend.” I smiled at him. “That means you don’t get to be in on some secrets. You should be grateful for that,” I added with a laugh.
“I’m not grateful at all. That’s just discrimination,” he said, and I couldn’t help but notice that he seemed genuinely upset. “I thought you were more evolved than that.”
“Nope, I’m not more evolved than that,” I said and turned to face him. “Now get off my bed, get out of my apartment, and go fix some computers.”
He wiped his hand over his eyes and mouth and shook his head. “That is not what I do.”
I knew what was coming next and I really didn’t have time for it.
“Would you like me to explain it again?” he asked.
“No, please don’t.” I laughed and shook my head.
Max had tried several times to explain his high-tech job to me, but I still didn’t quite get it.
“I think you should quit your tinkering and come back to the Fluff and Stuff.”
“Ah, the good old Fluff and Stuff,” Max said with a slight shake of his head. “The only laundromat where I can wash my boxers and buy a box of junk.”
“Like you wear boxers.” I winked at him.
It was Max’s turn to blush a little.
“And it’s not junk, it’s unique one-of-a-kind items,” I said, always quick to defend the job that had come to mean a lot to me over the years. “I love the Fluff and Stuff. You used to love it too.”
“Right, while I was still in college, studying for my real job.”
His words stung a little and took me by surprise. I frowned as I turned away from him.
“It’s real enough to me,” I said quietly.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean it that way,” he said quickly. “I just meant—you know—when we started working there, we were both just out of high school. It was a college gig for both of us.”
“But you finished college and I couldn’t pick a major,” I said and shook my head, annoyed at where the conversation was headed. I started to push Max towards the door. “I have to get to class.”
Max turned to face me. “Sam, please. You know I didn’t mean anything by it.”
I looked back at him and couldn’t help but smile. His obvious concern for my feelings was touching.
“I know you didn’t, Max. Besides, I’m the manager now, and that’s much more important than fixing computers,” I said with a shrug.
“Sam, that is not what I do.”
“Well, whatever you do”—I waved my hand towards the door of my apartment—“go do it, so I can get ready for class.”
“Remember, just the leotard!” he hollered over his shoulder, and I could hear him laughing as he walked away.
End of the preview.
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This is a work of fiction. Na
mes, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Never Too Late: A Sweet Romance (The Magic of Love Isle Book 4) Page 11