Max stands, his perfection of an ass greeting me hello this morning.
He grabs a pair of jeans and shuffles in them before putting on a shirt. Sliding to the end of the bed I retrieve my own clothes.
"Call Quinn to pick you up, I don't want you in a cab," Max demands with a possessive tone. His feet coming into view as I'm putting on my own shoes.
He looks over his shoulder, a pensive look on his face.
"What?" I ask a little uneasy.
"We don't have to do this wedding thing you know," his brows furrow, a misplaced tone I don't recognize deep in his voice.
Pulling my shirt over my head, I look at him flabbergasted.
"What? No, we can't miss your sister's wedding. We have to go," I tell him. "Why would you not want to go all of a sudden?"
He turns back around, his shoulders tensing as
