I picked up a string of licorice and popped it into my mouth before grabbing a handful of Doritos. Not the most nutritious breakfast but definitely one of the most interesting.

I worked through my selection of junk food, thinking to myself that this was perhaps the best meal I had ever eaten.

When I finished, I was full, mildly nauseous at the excessive amount of sugar and carbs first thing in the morning, but completely content.

Maxx picked up the remote control. “What do you like to watch?” he asked, flicking on the television. I looked at him blankly.

“We can watch Bob Ross paint some trees or . . .” He flicked through a few more channels before settling on a fashion design show I had seen a few times before. “What the hell is this shit?” he asked, frowning.

I snatched the remote and turned it up. “It’s obvious you need to get in touch with your inner diva, Maxx,” I teased, settling back into the couch.

We watched for a few minutes before Maxx couldn’t take any more. He turned to me and grabbed the remote, muting the show. He hauled me onto his lap. “Fuck TV, tell me about you,” he said, smoothing my long hair behind my shoulders.

“I love your hair. It’s so soft,” he said quietly, threading the strands through his fingers.

“She is beautiful without knowing it, and possesses charms that she’s not even aware of,” he murmured, his fingers pacifying me into a quiet comfort.

I looked at him under heavy lids. “Why the quotes?” I asked, leaning into his touch. “You do that a lot.”

Maxx smiled, a soft expression on his face. “Sometimes the words in my heart have already been written down by someone who can say it a hell of a lot better than I ever could.”

I ran my finger along his bottom lip; he opened his mouth and bit down lightly on the tip. “Well, the whole sensitive guy thing is pretty hot.” I grinned.

Maxx rolled his eyes and squeezed my hips, making me squirm.

“Stop changing the subject, I’m on a discovery mission here.” Maxx winked and went back to running his hands through my hair.

“Favorite food?” he asked.

“Fettuccine Alfredo and garlic bread,” I answered. Maxx nodded.

“Noted. What about favorite color?”

“Orange,” I replied.

Maxx raised an eyebrow. “Orange? Not something girlie like sparkly pink?”

I stuck out my tongue, making him laugh. “Nope. It’s impossible to be in a bad mood when you’re wearing orange,” I volleyed back.

Maxx tapped the side of his head. “Got it. Okay, favorite flower.”

“Why all the questions?” I asked, curious as to where he was going with all this.

“I want to know everything. Plus it’s good to know how I can butter you up later,” he joked, pulling on my hips so I was pressed hard against him.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

“Well, I’m not really a flower kind of girl.” I leaned forward and touched my lips to his ear before saying, “But if you really want to get me hot and bothered, buy me some chocolate. I’ll do just about anything for chocolate.”

Maxx chuckled, but I could feel him getting harder against me. “Chocolate is the way to get in your pants. Good to know.”

I rubbed against him and kissed the skin below his earlobe. “If you couldn’t tell, I’m already out of my pants.”

Maxx cupped my ass and started rubbing me rhythmically against him. “Oh, I could tell,” he said, his voice cracking as he moved me faster.

And then we were done talking for a while.

Hours later, when we finally came up for air, Maxx urged me to take a shower and get dressed. “Take your time,” he said, giving me a kiss as I went into the bathroom.

I frowned. “Okay, I will,” I told him, confused.

Thirty minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom, dressed and feeling a bit more human. Maxx had gotten dressed as well and was standing in the living room, grinning from ear to ear.

I walked out to meet him and stopped. On the coffee table were several boxes of chocolates. He had gotten assortments of every type imaginable. Beside them in a vase was a bunch of orange lilies. He held a grocery bag in his hand.

“What’s all this?” I asked, ridiculously touched by his thoughtfulness. Who knew Maxx Demelo could be so romantic?

Maxx was downright giddy. “I’ve never done the whole boyfriend thing before, but I want to do this right, Aubrey.” He held out the grocery bag. I took it and looked inside.

“I’m going to make you fettuccine Alfredo for dinner. I’m not a cook, but I figure even I can follow a recipe.” He kissed me hard on the mouth, his eyes twinkling.

We spent the remainder of the morning wrapped up in each other while Maxx continued his version of Twenty Questions. When he’d get tired of quizzing me, he’d devour me. We couldn’t get enough of touching and tasting each other.

I had never been so physically and emotionally drawn to someone before. I had tried the monogamous dating thing in the past, and it had never ended well for me. Whenever I had gotten to a certain point in the relationship, I had instinctively retreated, unable to move forward.

But with Maxx it was different somehow. Maybe it was knowing that this was someone who needed a connection almost as badly as I did. Looking at Maxx was like seeing a darker, more troubled version of myself. He was closed off and isolated, just as I had been for the past three years. And by giving him tiny pieces of myself, I was hoping to make both of us less lonely.