An Ounce of Hope (A Pound of Flesh #2)(45)

Grace swallowed. “Okay.”

“But, like I said, you deserve more than that.”

“I don’t want more than that, Max,” she argued. He appeared doubtful. Grace stepped forward. “All right,” she began. “Hypothetically, if you agreed to this, what would be your terms, your limits?”

“ ‘This’ being us f*cking?” Max clarified.

“Yes.”

He lifted his chin, his eyes traveling down her body in a way that caused her skin to heat. “No cuddling, no lovey-dovey talk, no pet names, no kissing.”

Grace cocked her head. “No kissing, period, or . . .”

“On the mouth,” he answered quietly. “It’s too intimate.”

Grace smirked. “How very Pretty Woman of you.”

“Pretty what?”

She waved her hand. “Never mind. Those seem fair terms.”

Even the cuddling. She wasn’t about to tell him how he’d held her all night long. That would be her little secret.

“No promises, no expectations,” he added, firmly counting the limits on his fingers. “We use a condom.” He pointed at her, his expression grave. “That’s a deal breaker for me.”

“Of course. I’d expect nothing less.” She watched Max gather himself. “Anything else?”

He pressed his lips together. “I don’t think so. As long as we’re clear that this is what it is, nothing more. We’re friends. No relationship, no love, no bullshit.”

Bitterness laced every word, but Grace nodded anyway. “Sure. You’re just a friend helping me move forward,” she said as though reading from a textbook. “We try it once and see what happens, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay.” Grace licked her lips, underlying excitement pinging through her veins.

Max cleared his throat and shifted where he stood. “And if you’re not okay the first time?”

Grace lifted a shoulder, praying to everything she adored that she would be. She’d be mortified if she had another attack in front of Max. “Then we can try again,” she offered, her voice lifting as though it was a question. She didn’t want to assume Max would want to sleep with her more than once, despite his words to the contrary. “Until I can handle being touched without freaking out like an idiot and I find someone who can love me, warts, and all, we do this.”

She smiled, but Max didn’t reciprocate. She understood his reticence, of course; this was a big deal; but Grace didn’t allow herself to worry about how their being intimate might throw a wrench into the workings of their friendship. He’d made it abundantly clear where he stood, and Grace would respect that. Plus she trusted herself not to let any nonplatonic feelings creep into the equation. No. She wouldn’t. It was what it was. No more.

She looked Max square in the eye. “It won’t get weird. Promise.”

“Good.” His shoulders dropped slightly; he was apparently relieved. “What about you?” he asked after a beat of silence. “What’re your limits?”

She blinked at him, surprised by his question.

“Grace, I don’t want to touch you and make you panic,” he added steadily. “If this is gonna work, you have to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

Grace licked her lips and thought hard about what would make her panic, what would scare her. Looking at Max so earnest and responsible, she struggled to bring anything to mind.

“I . . . don’t like being held down,” she said gently, recollecting the previous night. “As you saw with Buck, I can’t handle being— I get claustrophobic.” She pulled her hair over her shoulder. “I need to be able to move my hands.”

“Understood. What else?”

Her heart skipped as a memory of her and Rick flashed through her psyche. His angry voice, her tears, his hands on her head holding her to his body. “This may be another deal breaker for you.” She closed her eyes, not wanting to see Max’s face while she spoke. “I don’t, I can’t . . . go down—I don’t like it.” She opened her eyes slowly. Max’s expression hadn’t changed. “He wasn’t— Rick wasn’t kind when I did it . . .”

A muscle in Max’s jaw jumped and his gaze burned hot. “I get it,” he said softly. “And I can live with that.” He paused before the corner of his mouth lifted wolfishly. “Do you like it being done to you?”

Grace coughed. “I, um, I don’t—I can, um, yeah, I don’t mind.”

Max laughed, his face regaining its usual gentleness. “Good to know.”

Grace chuckled, too. The tension in the room lifted around them. “So, are we gonna do this?”

His grin dropped. “As long as you know that I can’t give you any more than—”

“It’s just sex. I get it,” Grace interrupted with mock exasperation. “Seriously, dude, you’re not that hot. You’d think you had a whole gaggle of women following you around declaring their undying love!”

Max barked out a laugh, his cheeks pinking adorably. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture to which Grace was becoming accustomed.

She stuck out her hand. “Shall we shake on it, just to make sure there’s no misunderstanding? That we’re just two friends helping each other out.” Confusion flitted across Max’s face. “Oh, please.” Grace laughed. “You need this as much as I do. I don’t care what you say.” He narrowed his gaze but didn’t respond. “Deal?” she asked.