Love Bug (The Prescotts Book 3) by Tara Wyatt (electric book reader .TXT) 📗

for the walk and the fresh air and the glorious sunshine. Besides, the kids at the hospital loved when Cupcake the Unicorn came to read them stories and do crafts (always involving copious amounts of glitter, of course) so it was totally worth it, strange looks be damned. Putting smiles on those kids’ faces mattered more than anyone thinking she was yet another crazy person, walking through Central Park in a unicorn onesie with glitter on her face. She knew first-hand the kind of hell they were going through and she’d do anything to bring a little joy to their lives.

As she walked, her stomach rumbled, as if sensing her proximity to Red Fox, her favorite takeout sushi place. She hadn’t planned on stopping to get something to eat, but now that the idea was in her head, her mouth was already watering. She could practically taste the wasabi. With a little laugh, she turned down West 59th, putting Central Park to her right as she headed for the restaurant. She slipped her phone out of her pocket, checking the time. It was almost 5:30, which was perfect because she’d beat the Saturday evening dinner rush.

She stepped inside, leaving the fresh air and sunshine behind her. The interior of the restaurant was tiny, with only a handful of tables available for dining in. The front of the space was taken up with a high wooden counter with the plastic-encased menu attached to the front of it. The scents of wasabi and ginger and soy sauce cut through the air in the dim space, making her mouth water and her stomach grumble again. She skimmed the menu, even though she already knew what she was going to order: the California roll with blue crab, tempura shrimp and the green tea crème brulée. It was the same thing she always got whenever she treated herself to Red Fox. It wasn’t that she didn’t like trying new things, it was just that she didn’t mess around when it came to her Red Fox order. Why stray from perfection?

She stepped up to the counter, placed her order and then moved into the little alcove off to the side to wait. A brightly lit aquarium showcased several tropical fish and she leaned forward to peer at them, smiling at the bright colors.

“Willa?”

Everything inside her came to life at the sound of Max’s voice from several feet behind her. She whirled quickly, her eyes landing on him. He stood in the corner, leaning one shoulder against the wall, his ankles crossed, phone in hand. The unexpected sight of him set off a dizzying chain reaction inside her—lust, happiness, confusion, embarrassment, foolishness, hurt. A longing so intense it made her feel sunburned, her skin tight and itchy. Normally, she spent her commute giving herself a pep talk about not feeling anything for Max, not letting the sight of him get to her, being strong. By the time she got to work, she was armed and ready for the day. It helped that she’d been avoiding him as much as possible, keeping her necessary interactions with him perfunctory and professional.

But the truth was, she was an absolute mess over him.

Spending the night with him had opened her eyes to the fact that she didn’t have a crush on Max. No, she had feelings for him. Big, capital F feelings that didn’t seem to be fading even after the way he’d pushed her away. She’d known it the morning she’d walked out of his penthouse feeling like an absolute fool, and it was all still there. This pull toward him. This ache every time she looked at him. If a guy she had a crush on had told her he wasn’t interested in a relationship with her, yeah, that would suck. It would sting a little. But for six weeks now, she’d been reeling. She hurt.

Underlying all of that hurt, all of that longing, was complete and utter confusion. Had what had happened between them been a pity fuck? Or had it been more? After all, he’d said that he’d imagined her under him so many times, that she’d felt even better than he’d ever imagined. She wasn’t misremembering—he’d said those things to her. Had that been part of whatever game he’d been playing with her that night? Because as many times as she’d replayed it, as many times as she’d turned the words over and over in her mind, she couldn’t find anything but lust and sincerity behind them.

But if he’d meant them, why had he told her that she’d been a mistake? At work, he’d been acting as though absolutely nothing had happened between them, which only made her even more confused. Even more twisted up in knots over him. She went back and forth between assuming what they’d shared had been a pity fuck, and then being absolutely certain it had been more.

So, yeah. She was a mess when it came to Max.

“Willa?” he asked again, startling her out of her own brain and bringing her back to the present moment. She flushed from the roots of her hair to her chest, smoothing her damp palms over the furry stomach of her unicorn onesie.

Oh, hell. She’d kind of forgotten she was wearing it.

“Oh, um. Hey,” she said, trying to keep her tone light and casual, raising her hand in a dorky wave. She quickly dropped it to her side. Her eyes roved over him, greedy for the sight of him. He was wearing a thin gray sweater and a pair of black pants that hugged his thick, muscular thighs. Thighs she knew were bunched with muscle and covered with a dusting of wiry brown hair. A lock of hair had fallen onto his forehead and her fingers tingled with the need to reach out and smooth it back into place. He was clean shaven, as usual, showing off his chiseled jawline. A jawline she’d traced with her lips on the scariest night of her life.

“Getting some