"All better now?" Dino asked me.

If there's anyone better for me in times like this, I don't know who it'd be, I thought as he sunk down on the couch next to me. And then I felt this silent knot of tears inside me clench up at that because the truth was ... there was someone better for me at times like this.

Except when he was the cause. Because I was really scared for him. And angry as all hell on his behalf. And really worried, even with Dino there.

"No," I told him softly. But I managed a smile for show.

Dino is like the best big brother I never had. I trust his judgment. I value his input. I tell him things that can be so honest it surprises me he still likes me. He also makes me act like the adult I am. He's my example for that at times like this. When he's around, I can stand up and fight with a fire that might shock other people. It's why I called him.

Well, that and the fact that Max was out of town on another business trip.

"Max is not in trouble. Not with these guys anyway," Dino said to me. "You, on the other hand, may be rather inclined to slice him into fine pieces when you find out what this is about."

"I don't understand."

"They're only here because it's a routine. It's just that ... well, Max should have warned you a bit about what he does for a living. That's all I'm gonna say. Because anything else, Annie, is between you and him. But ... a bit of advice? Between old friends?"

Max and his fucking job. The niggling little big detail that I'd never really had the balls to just force him to tell me. He's in the security field; that's all he ever says ... that and that hearing about his job would bore me.

Something had always bothered me about that. That the way it seemed more and more to me that this annoying 'thing' he had about me making promises to him about my own personal security was about something deeper that he refused to share with me because he thought I was a ninny. Honestly, one of these days, we were going to have that discussion. I have no idea why I let him keep putting me off the scent that there was more to this all than he would tell me. When in my life had I ever let myself get walked all over like that ... and enjoyed it?

"You're confusing the hell out of me, Dino."

"Just remember ... you fell in love with him because of who he is. This is all part of it. Part of how he approaches life."

"Where are you going this time?"

"I won't be gone long. A few days at the most. Stay here while I am away. This would please me."

"But why? I'll just stay at my place with Buck ..."

"You promised me, cara. Remember?"

"Don't start with the 'cara' bit, Max ... And don't start kissing on me like that and ... God ... Stop ... That's not fair. You know I can't resist you like this ..."

"Everything is fair ... Stay here. One year, remember? I invoke the right I won in the sex lottery."

"Hmmm?"

"You must live with me. You made a promise ..."

"I did no such thing ... that was a bit of romantic ... Oh ... God ... I love it when you do that ... but ... Wait now! I see your game now! No ... Stop kidding around! Max! Stop!"

"You're ... quite ... sure you want me to stop, Anna? You're strong enough to walk away? Imagine how I'd reward you if you obeyed me in this ..."

"Wait ... don't stop ... keep trying to convince me ... who knows what I'll give in to?"

That day, I'd brought a picture of Max in to work. It was the first really personal thing I brought to the cubical. I had only brought useful things before that. Like I didn't want to be too comfortable there. Like I didn't want to really believe this was what I was settling for, this job from hell for a person like me. Like this wasn't really me trapped in a job I clung to because I had no confidence I'd ever find anything better.

On the other hand, being with Max, it had its own way of putting things into perspective. Work didn't matter so much; or rather, the fact I hated working there didn't matter so much. It was just five days a week, nine hours a day with commute. It was just time I could get through because it paid the bills and kept a roof over me and Buck's heads. The only time that really mattered was when I was away from work. Almost all that time was with Max. Except when he traveled.

So anyway, my first personal touch for my cubicle was a picture I took of him on his balcony. The sun was just starting that final drop toward the horizon. It's so warm then, the color of the sun. It's my favorite time of day to take pictures of people because it just seems sharper yet warmer.

He hates having his picture taken. Hates it. But if I cajole him in just the right way, he'll let me take it. I never want him to pose for me. I like to catch him natural, so that when I look at the picture later, it seems like I just caught him in some casual, normal moment.

I framed it so the arc of his building sweeps off the frame. It's a voluptuous line, fat and curvy and sassy. But he's all man, the anchor of the picture.

The picture is in a frame on my desk. Even now, in my mind's eye, I can see the moment the lens captured. I took the picture the evening before he left. The next night, I spent about an hour on the computer deciding which picture of him I would bring to work. And then printing it off and putting it in a frame.

My boss noticed it right off. Who's this, he said, first thing that morning, coming into my cubicle unexpected ... and unwanted, but I suppose that goes without saying. Usually, he makes me come to his office. He likes dealing with us minions from his power position.

I said, that's my boyfriend. And felt like I was 19 years old or something. Really, my boss asked me. You know, it sounds innocent but he rolled out that one word in this way of saying he just couldn't believe a man like that would be in a picture on my desk ... like this: "ReeEAaallllllieEEe?"

My boss has never asked me a personal question. Not once. I think it's against his religion. I think he belongs to the Pointy Haired Bastard Church Of Executive Mismanagement.

So I sat there, waiting on whatever he was really there for. Are you happy working here, he finally asked me. He wasn't looking at me, he was looking around the cubicle, peering in at my reference books and dictionaries and style guides. He fingered my favorite spelling dictionary and I had to sit on my hands to keep from yanking it away from his touch. Like he contaminated something I had thought of as pure.

Yeah, I like my job, I said by rote. Isn't that all bosses want to hear? Pointy haired bosses? He looked at me then. His hair all slicked back. He should have pointy hair. Maybe that's why he used all that hair gel, to try to disguise that he's a pointy haired boss, except we all know it, all of us who work for him.

Really, he said. Not a question this time. I nodded my head at him, forced out a little smile. I wondered ... was he really believing me? I mean, really? This is, after all, the man who has screwed me over quite royally recently by making me take a week without pay rather than letting me switch my vacation and then topped that off by making me work on the days I was supposed to be on vacation so I've even lost my vacation pay. And he's thinking I'm happy at work?

Well, actually, his face is so bland that maybe he doesn't remember fucking me over. Or maybe he's fucked over so many people in the last few hours that his fucking me over escapes his memory. Or maybe he's trying to trap me ... or maybe he's about ready to fuck me over again if I answer wrong. I keep my face neutral and get ready for the body blow.

Ah, he finally said. Ah, I asked. Well, he said. Well, I asked. It's just, he said. Just what, I asked. It seems a government agency has asked for verification on your employment history, he said. Why, I asked. I was hoping you would tell me, he said. What agency, I asked. I don't know because they talked to human resources, he said. But why, I asked. You're not applying for a job with the government, he asked. No, I said. Well, that's curious, isn't it, he asked. Yes, it is, I agreed.

If you're sure, he said. I am, I said. You know that if you're not happy here, he said, leaving the thought open, as if I knew what he might do if I wasn't happy there. I'm happy here, I said, quickly, because I didn't want the consequences of him finding out how much I hated it there. Well, staff meeting's in fifteen minutes, he said. I won't be late, I said. You never are, he said.

No, I never was. Punctuality was a virtue around that place. It was easy enough. It wasn't like I ever got so involved in some project that I just forgot the time or hated leaving it to go to some meeting, was it?

"Bring Buck over and stay here while I am gone. I will feel more at ease knowing you're safer here. The security in this building is superior to yours."

"Max, my love, you worry about me far too much."

"That is my prerogative. Perhaps I worry because I simply know there are matters that may need worrying over."

"Pshaw. Why do you really want us to stay here while you're gone? C'mon ... say it ... you never know; it may steal my heart away and then I'd have no choice at all but to stay here, dreaming of you while you're gone from me."

"It would be good to find you here when I return. I would like having that to look forward to."

"See? God, the way you said that ... all gruff ... but your eyes ... you really get to my heart, Max. I never knew it could be like this."

So you're wondering ... how I got from there to here. To Dino being here, not quite holding my hand so much as he was holding me back from exploding? And with two men wearing sunglasses across the room thinking I was really going to cave in?

It's funny. It always is with me, have you noticed? These things happen to me, out of the blue. Only I would have this kind of detour in my life. Only I would have everything fall down around me and as I'm standing there trying to figure out which pieces I should try to pick up first, I would realize I didn't have enough super glue to patch them all back together so that even if the breaks showed, the vessel of my life would still hold water.

I wonder ... did the detour begin with losing my job? Or did it begin the moment Max saw me in a bookshop? Or maybe the official beginning was saying 'hell yeah' when Uma said come by my new pub and have a drink with me tomorrow night.

No, that's too far back, maybe. I don't know. What you want to know right now, though, is how come I called Dino?

Well, I gave in to Max and stayed at his place while he was gone. Only then he upped the ante and ... well, I'm discovering some weaknesses I never knew I had. He seems to have an unerring radar for them and no shame about exploiting them to get what he wants ... which is funny, because so far, I've liked it.

"You know, he called me last night and convinced me to move in with him."

"Yeah? Annie, that's actually ..."

"All of this is very odd ... just odd. A coincidence. Just today, some government geeks were by my company asking to see my employment files ... and then this."

"How long have you been staying with Max? You think any of his neighbors maybe think you've already been living with him?"

"Dunno. But it's just so odd, y'know? That in the one span of time I'm staying here without him, they come looking for him and find me carting over some things, you know?"

"Because he convinced you to move in."

"Exactly. You know me, I was nervous enough about that. I wasn't bringing much to begin with ... I was going to ... And they were ... I had my hands full. I couldn't find the key to his place. And then one of them was right there and I turned around and the other was there ... and it scared the fuck out of me and all I could think was how ironic it was that Max always freaks about me and security ... and he's convinced living at his place is safer and then two guys are gonna jump me right there at his door? You gotta admit, Dino, that's ironic."

"Except that's kinda what they were there for, Annie."

"Huh? No, they said they were investigating Max ... that's why I called you."

"You need to just answer their questions."

 "I'm not answering any questions. I'll just get him in trouble."

"You won't."

I looked over at the two government geeks. They looked at me. I leaned in to Dino, turned to put my mouth to his ear, so I could whisper to him.

"Dino, think about this. Okay? They're with Homeland Security, right? I mean, Max isn't from here. Why else would they be here if they weren't thinking he was some foreign national ... some 'person of interest,' isn't that what they call them now? And then say they check further ... what if they find out about the rest of you? This is why I called you."

"Annie, trust me on this. At this point, they aren't so much interested in Max as they are interested in you."

"Me?"

"Well, you're new in Max's life. All they were doing was an update on his security clearance when, lo and behold, a neighbor says that Max has someone living with him all of a sudden. So they just want to know a bit about you."

"Me? Then were they the ones that went to my company and ... My God! Can they do that? And why? Isn't that violating my privacy? How can they do that?"

"Annie, breathe."

"Dino, I don't understand. Max has a security clearance? Stop nodding at me and patting my hand. Because, you know, what if my past ... what if I've done things that ... I'm not living with him. I don't need to reflect on him. They need to just forget about me. I was just spending the night ..."

"Honey, it's okay. They've already done a records check on you. They know what they know. They may find you a bit ... um ... not their cup of tea, but you're not really a security risk. You just answer their questions and they'll be fine. It's more a paperwork drill than anything."

"You're sure?" I may be slow. But eventually, I do figure out the questions I should ask. "Wait ... why do they care if there's someone new in Max's life? What's he do that needs that kind of scrutiny?"

"We'll discuss that when they leave."

"You are being absurd, Anna. One has nothing to do with the other."

"You act as though you can just order me and I'll have to obey. Life's not that simple. Maybe it was in your day, but it's not now. And it's sure not with me."

"I never made the mistake of thinking life with you would be simple."

"Don't sigh at me like that, Maximus. I really dislike it when you act all superior to me."

"What would you have me do then, Ann? Do you believe that if you refuse to let it go, you will actually change my mind?"

"It embarrasses you, doesn't it? That I'm not something different somehow. That I speak my mind. That I won't give in when I think I'm right."

"Anna ..."

"It's okay. You won't be the first man who ..."

"I will be the last man, however."

"What?"

"Live with me. I don't mean for play. I mean for real. Come make a home with me."

"Wait ... we're arguing."

"No. You're arguing. Futile, I add, as I will no longer engage you in some battle of wills that goes nowhere. On the other hand, I had a purpose in this phone call."

"Damn you. You use that voice on me and you know I'm going to just melt. You have to use that pissy voice of yours; not the sexy one ...or this one."

"This one? What voice is this?"

"It's how I know you love me. That's the voice it is."

"Say yes. I cannot ... I want you with me. I want you within the rhythm of my life, every day, every night. Say yes."

"I can't make a decision on something that serious so quickly."

"You make it into something far too complicated. We love each other. We want to spend all our time together. We both want this. Can you seriously tell me that you do not enjoy what we have found together? That you don't wish for more?"

"It's a huge step, Max."

"It is not. We have not been apart one night in many weeks. We are essentially living together now."

"Then why rock the boat?"

"Cara ..."

"Oh, Max. Play fair."

"I am not playing."

"No ... I know you're not playing. It just ..."

"Do this for me. Do this for us, Anna."

I ended up answering the questions of the two goons. I mean, I knew that I was going to have to because it just seems like Homeland Security is like this high holy group that can run roughshod over the rest of us ... Which, I suppose, is exactly why I called Dino because I did know I wasn't really going to be able to not answer their questions. It maybe took me the few seconds between them scaring me to death and asking me what I was doing at Max's place, and then finally showing me their badges and saying they had some questions ... and I was asking them to hold on while I contacted a friend, which they absolutely tried to keep me from doing.

There's this thing about me. I'm not great with authority in the best of circumstances. But when it's flashing a badge and not explaining heavy-handed techniques? I really cannot take it. I get all these instinctive feelings of furious indignation that they really think they can get away with that ... I know it's from my days as a reporter because in those days, I lived to keep the government from trampling on rights and people.

I sometimes think I have never met a reporter who didn't have that instinct. Maybe it's what makes us different. Maybe we become that way because of what we see. It's been five years; that instinct had been dormant; it flared into a raging fire the moment they refused to tell me why they wanted to know if I was living there permanently.

What's funny is that it took them maybe fifteen minutes to ask me their questions. They were essentially verifying who I was and trying to get me to nail down where I lived. I told them the truth, of course.

I was staying there while Max was out of town. We had discussed me moving in with him, but that was premature, at best.

When they gave up with questioning me ... and I truly think it was because Dino just sat there staring at them like he was amused ... then I asked them to tell me exactly why they were so interested in Max's living arrangements. They said I should ask him.

"So he wants you to move in?" Dino said after the two goons left. 

He handed me glass of wine. I sighed and sunk down on the floor in front of the couch so Buck could come give me comfort. Since we were at Max's place, I didn't want my dog on his furniture. It didn't seem polite.

"He does. Yes."

"You sound under-whelmed at the prospect. Why isn't that a good thing? Like a red letter day ..." And then adopting this annoying imitation of me: "Ooooooo, Max asked me to move in. I can't wait to tell all the girls! And change the curtains and rearrange the furniture and get him to take vitamins and ..."

I whacked him on the shin; Buck started yipping at him. "Shut up, you mean bastard, that isn't helping."

Dino stretched out on Max's couch, like he knew this might take a while. I watched him sip scotch; I cuddled Buck to get him calm; I sipped wine to get me calm.

"Why wouldn't it be a good thing for Max to ask you to move in with him? You told me you loved him ... I would think this would be a pretty nice step."

"It's a big step. No ... it's a huge step." I shook my head and leaned back into the couch. "Nope. Actually, it's a humongous step."

"You don't want to do it, then?"

"Move in? Live with Max?" I looked at Dino. He rubbed his hand over the top of my head. "Honestly? It scares the living fuck out of me."

"Why?"

"It's way too fast. Way too much. Way too ... way too easy to mess up now."

"He's pressuring you, isn't he? Not in a bad way, I don't mean that. Just, putting pressure ... knowing how to put pressure to convince you to give him what he wants, eh?"

"Yeah. I suppose. I mean, I'm not unhappy that he wants this bad enough to try to convince me or cajole me ..."

"Have you told him 'no'?"

"No. I haven't."

"Why not?"

"Maybe it's just that ... what I said. I like him pushing. I like the idea he wants me that much in his life."

"If you don't say 'no', then, yeah, he'll just push harder. But ... tell me something, Annie, because this is the crux of it. What exactly are you unsure of?"

I got up and walked around Max's living room. I'd been there so much in the past few weeks; it should have felt more familiar than it did. "I think we're moving too fast. I think maybe it's too big of a step."

"Or maybe it's not big enough."

"What?" I whirled around; all my instincts on point because he has this way of saying things sometimes that I know means he's serious and he's not going to let me back away from myself.

He motioned me over, to come sit on the couch next to him as he straightened up to a sitting position. When I sat down, he reached over and just took one of my hands between both of his. Like he was emphasizing that he was right there but, if I was going to start this conversation with him, then he was going to insist that I face something.

"Maybe, Annie, just maybe, you're disappointed he didn't ask you for something a bit more," he whispered slowly, intently. "Is that not at all possible? Maybe you were hoping that instead of asking you to move in ... that he was going to ask you to marry him?"

"What?" I pulled away and just looked in Dino's eyes, my mouth hanging open. "That is so not even what I'd be thinking! Jesus, Dino. I don't want to get married. Max and I don't even know if this is ..."

"If it's real? C'mon. You know."

"That isn't what I'm talking about and you know it. I don't want to get married. I have never even lived with a man much less ... I don't think that way and you know it."

"But it's real, what's between you and Max. Isn't it? Just admit that to me."

I looked away from him. How could he do this? How come he reads me? I think maybe it's because I gave him permission to read me from almost the first moment we became friends. And that this is why we've stayed friends. "It is real, Dino. I know that. I know that completely, utterly, soul-deep."

"You never once thought about where that kind of love leads to?"

"It doesn't always lead anywhere, you know. I don't think about things like that."

"But you have thought about it, haven't you?"

"No. It's too new between us." I licked my lips. Shrugged my shoulders. "I've been afraid to."

"No, you haven't."

"Honestly, I don't think about things like that. Marriage is one of those ... it's just one of those conventions that I've just always known is not right for me. I mean, I have known that since college, I suppose. And I've never changed my mind. I sure as hell don't have any kind of old-fashioned notions that my highest function as a woman, the culmination of my life, is to find some man to love then get married then have kids. That's not me, Dino, and you know it. I would choke to death in a conventional relationship."

He sighed. "Any chance you're shocked to find yourself so old-fashioned as to want marriage? A family? Security?"

I looked in his eyes. "I've never wanted to be married. I have never wanted children."

"Except now?"

"I don't think so." But I did know how I felt. I just had a hard time putting it into words. It was too deep inside me to come out in words.

"Annie?" he whispered as we had both looked off. "Maximus ... he's the kind of man who wants that. You do know that, don't you?"

"That is too far ahead in the future."

"But if you know you don't want it ..."

"Then maybe I should just break it off with him right now. Is that it? Your advice, Dino? Cut and run?"

"No. My advice, my smart-ass friend, is to remember that those decisions and choices you made once in college were made before you met this man. Before you became this woman. It's possible, it truly is, that finding him changes everything for you. The same, honey, may be true for him. Maybe you're both a bit shocked at what you're finding yourselves desiring to be for each other."

I had thought about it. I was always thinking that it wouldn't matter.

But a day had to come when I faced this. When I shared these misgiving with Max. I just didn't know how. I didn't know how to be that open with him.

Yet.

"Let me tell you something just for you to know."

"Please. I would like that, Max."

"Your hands ... I dream of them so often. Before I knew you, before you gave yourself to me, I used to dream of what they would feel like when you touched me."

"My hands? But they're so ordinary."

"Perhaps. But they have always fascinated me. The way you touch ... as if the sense of touch from your fingertips goes instantly to your core. As if what you touch becomes a part of you. That was always in the back of my mind ... that if you touched me, it would be an experience I would never forget. Never recover from."

"And have you? Or have I disappointed you in that regard?"

"You have never disappointed me. In any regard."

"No? Even my cooking?"

"Perhaps there."

"There is such a thing as being too honest with a woman, Max! But I do love that about you."

"I dreamed a most vivid dream of your hands. It is why I called you. It is what woke me. Can I tell it to you?"

"I would like that, Max. So much."

"I have been lying here, trying to recreate your touch. I am hard. It hurts. I wish to come in your hands."

"Oh. Max ..."

"Should I have told you?"

"Yes. Because ... because when you said it, I could see it. Like it's happening. You feel warm, damp, hard ... the contours of you are an invitation to touch. It's what fascinates me, in some ways. That I never know if I'm capable of just relishing the feel of you, of examining you, because you'd let me do that. But I so often want to rush through that, don't I?"

"Don't rush tonight."

"No, I won't. I won't use my mouth. Only my hands."

"Yes ... this is what I desire ... talk to me, cara, tell me what you're feeling ..."

"So, what is it you really want? Your real desire?"

"I want to be smart about this."

Dino smiled at me. "You want some advice on how to do this smart?"

"Yes! Yes, that is exactly what I want."

"Max is a man who will bowl you over. He will wear your resistance down because he knows exactly what he wants. Annie, he wants you. He wants you in his bed, in his life, in his future. I don't blame him; when you find the woman you know is the only one who's meant to make your life complete, then you do what it takes to make it happen."

"I don't know, Dino. He's so hard for me to understand a lot of times. And we are so different. I have to worry about that ... about what it could mean for us. Can you really see Max, a man of his time, a man like him ... can you see him with me for the long run? It's ridiculous, isn't it?"

"No. That's love, Annie. It happens. Don't let it go without really exploring it."

"Damn, you're the romantic lately."

He rolled his eyes at me but then zipped back into his point. "If you want to be smart about this, think about your bottom line. If this is 'moving in' step is too fast for you, then keep your lease on your own place for a while. At least until you know how things shape up with Max. That way, if it just doesn't work, at least you have your own place you can move back into."

"I can't afford to do that, Dino. I'm barely making enough money as it is to afford the rent on my own place. I can't take on half of the rent for Max's place on top of that."

"Annie, you don't have to pay Max's rent." He tilted his chin down when I shook my head at him. "Look, Max is going to have to pay the same amount of rent on this place whether you're living here or not, right? Max can afford to pay for this place all on his own. He can. If he's asked you to move in, of course he expects to continue to pay the expenses here."

"I am not going to mooch off him!"

"Jesus, Annie. You make this so hard." He jostled me until I grinned at him. "You pay your rent. Let him pay his. Just do it. It's the right thing because you need to preserve that option for your safety net."

I sighed. Thought about what he was saying. Knew it was the practical thing to do. "This is why I love you, Dino. You make me see reason and face facts."

After Dino left that day, I called my landlord about renewing my lease. And then I wandered around Max's apartment and fingered things that belonged to Max. Things I'd seen in all my visits there but had never reached out in curiosity to touch, examine, invade. Invade his privacy? It was, in so many ways.

But he was the one who invited me to do so by asking me to stay there.

In his bedroom, I sat on the foot of the bed with Buck at my feet watching me intently. I hadn't unpacked anything from either the box or suitcase I'd carried up there with me. Truth be told, I didn't have a clue where I'd unpack them to. He had never said; I had never asked ... but where exactly was he thinking or expecting me to put my stuff in that tiny place of his?

He had a large armoire and a low dresser. Both were large, by my standards. They were very dark wood; mahogany, I think. They had drawers and doors in them. I had seen Max open them many times as he pulled clothes out to get dressed. I probably knew without even realizing it which drawers held his shirts, which his sweaters, which his socks, which his underwear.

Which ones, I wondered, would he give to me?

I don't know why that whole concept scared me. Like it held a finality, like I was giving something away without even really making a conscious decision to do so.

Atop his dresser was a large cedar box. It was masculine in design, absent any frills or carving. Just rather stoutly rounded at the edges. Clean. Precise. He kept small, personal things in there, like cufflinks ... and a ring he treasured. Did I have the right to peer inside when he wasn't here showing me the inside of that box? Was that violating his privacy too much?

I stroked over it and then moved it to one side of the dresser. That would be his side, I decided. On my side, I placed my jewelry box. Tit for tat. I stepped back and looked at the dresser. It didn't look right, but I had to get used to it. Would he? Or would he hate it that I'd taken some of his space?

He would like it. He would. Wouldn't he? Yes. God, I hope so. No, I know he will. Without a doubt.

Next, after a big breath, I opened the top drawer on what I decided was now to be my side of his dresser. It was empty. I frowned in confusion. Empty? I pulled open the next drawer. Also empty. And the one under it ... empty.

Oh, Max.

The things he can make a woman feel. He holds so much inside and then reveals it with things like this in a way that can just devastate your good senses.

But even so ... even so.

There were things going on that he should have been telling me. And I knew it. I did. I just didn't know where I drew the line between what I demanded and what was his to hold back for privacy.

Should there be privacy between lovers looking to build their future on each other? I think so. Even with intimacy, I think, you have to have a place that's only yours. Don't you? Maybe ... maybe this is why I've never taken this step with another man ... because there is a part of me I keep off limits and maybe that's not something you do.

I went to bed that night troubled by all that had happened in that one single day. I'm not sure if I really had put it all together in a cohesive manner even as I slipped into sleep in his bed. About all I really knew was that I was taking the step to live with him despite reservations, and knew that Dino was right ... that I could be smart about it and keep my own place without Max knowing. That would give me some peace of mind, some measure of independence that was still important to me.

The rest?

What to say about a visit out of the blue from investigators with Homeland Security who were interested in me only because they found out from some neighbor that I was basically living there for the past few weeks? And what to think about the fact that this investigation had to do with Max's job, obviously, but was not to be taken as a threat to Max? And of course, the source of much consternation on my part for many weeks ... what was it exactly about Max's job that made him so reluctant to not just spell out proudly what it was he did for a living?

But through it all ... all the nagging, disturbing thoughts ... I still fell asleep smiling. And it was because Max had created space for me inside his place. It had meant that much to him that he'd pushed me to move in and he'd done it without reservation. For the first time in maybe forever, I felt like I belonged.

I wasn't expecting him to return that night. I was actually considering this a test night for myself ... to see if I'd feel differently about this whole living together shenanigans when I woke up and had some of my own things around mixed in with his.

He had been vague about his schedule but he always was. I had formed the opinion that this was because he wasn't ever really that sure when his work would be finished so he was never sure when he'd come back.

But return he did.

He told me later that nothing had mattered so much as when he opened the door and Buck was waiting there in his hallway, tail wagging, a tiny 'woof' of a greeting and then jumping around because he was so excited to see Max. And the reason nothing else mattered was because it was seeing Buck there that told him I'd decided to give it a try, this living with him business.

Sometimes, I like to visualize his feelings, to see if this gives me some insight to him. I fully imagine that in the moment he walked steadily into his bedroom and stood there absorbing that his life was changing in a way he wanted ... that he was genuinely rocked to realize it was happening because this woman, whom he did not really know that well, loved him enough to make this gesture for him because she knew it mattered to him a great deal and because she trusted in him enough to do it despite her own fears.

It's not always even, a relationship. Sometimes, I think that's good. I think being uneven keeps it dynamic. You give what you want, you take what's offered; and, what you need, you have to learn to ask for. That's what it seems to me, but I'm no expert, am I?

Looking back, I can picture Max that night, even though I was asleep. I think maybe it's because of the way he woke me and the way he was with me after. I think he stood there watching me in his bed, noticing my breathing, half-fascinated by the way it made him feel. But mostly, just gloating over a sense of success, of having what he wanted. Or at least, of having accomplished this next step.

It should have dawned on me sooner, really, but I was blindly in love, I suppose. But what I wasn't seeing just then was that he was being purposeful each step of the way while I was unaware and thinking it was all happenstance and impetuousness.

He is a man unlike any I've known. This is why my choices in life had been limited until I met him. Now, there are new choices. He has new choices, too, if you think about it.

This night, we experienced another shift between us. It's like hurtling down a track and not knowing what's around the bend but believing even if the ride scares you, the destination is worth it. Sometimes, I admit, I have to wonder if the ride is really maybe the purpose and that the destination remains a life-long illusion.

Am I turning my back on everything I thought I knew about myself that one of the things I am enjoying most is that Maximus is a man who pushes me away from all those civilized places I've hidden? I've lived happily inside the women's world of liberation, independence, yellow moons of self-determination. He makes me face the world of women I have never cared for ... that place where without women, our race does not go on; that place where dependence goes both ways because without men, the race would die; that place where we choose a mate on some instinctual plane that culminates in the continuation of our line.

I am self-aware enough to know that it would take a man like Max to get me to commit to love. I am not sure I have done much more than become aware that I might not know all that commitment really means to a man like Max.

So here he found himself, coming to his place where he'd once had self-imposed isolation and privacy to find that the one woman he invited to open him up to her is there, just as he must have most desired. Did he at all fear what this meant to his way of life? I doubt it. I think he welcomed it. This, you see, is something that attracts me to him so very much. It is his clear eye and acceptance that it's up to him to get what he wants.

But was he really going to open up to me? Was I going to really open up to him?

Even asleep, I know I had to have felt the mattress dip when he sat next to me. Some part of me had to have heard him whispering in my ear. And I know he was doing that because when I woke up, he was sitting next to me, leaning over me, whispering ... in the middle of what he told me later was a poem.

For moments that hung in the dark, I just accepted this sense of him in love and still pushing me forward. My hand ran down his cheek and felt him smile when it reached his lips.

I sat up, straight into his arms. He told me how glad he was to find me there. I said, "Welcome home." 

He said he was going to wash the road off him; that I should go back to sleep. I said he needed to just come to bed with me, let me hold him. So I took his tie from him and then removed his shirt. He put up no fight but he did whisper in my ear about how much he loved being touched by me. I looked in his eyes as I reached for his belt, but his hands atop mine stopped me.

"We'll give it a try, right?" I whispered to him. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

He just nodded. And then gently pushed me to my back. And standing over me, the only thing of him touching the bed was one hand and a knee, he took his time in getting reacquainted with my body. He didn't let me touch him until he had reminded me that tasting me was a taste of home for him. And when I touched him in this night, I fully remembered what he'd said to me in that phone call, about my hands, about taking my time, about what he dreamed of sometimes.

We lay there after. He was breathing hard still, panting, eyes closed. He took my hand in his, rubbed it into semen that had pooled on his abdomen. It was the most decadent touch, feeling the intake of labored breathing through viscous evidence of what had brought him to that point ... he lay there, my hand his captive, as if he was reveling in something so masculine, so virile ... the evidence of some part of him I didn't understand yet but which nonetheless turned me on like quicksilver.

"I understand you had visitors today," he said later, when I thought he was already asleep. "We must speak about this, Ann."

"I am not so stupid as to not have started putting this together," I said softly.

"Did they scare you?" he asked, pulling me into his hold, his mouth buried in the rumpled mess of my hair. "You scared them."

"It's not in the least amusing. I thought you were in trouble."

"You're angry with me?"

"You better believe it. I gave you so many chances to tell me what I needed to know. This is something that you should have told me."

"Do not mistake ... I would have told you but, until now, you had no real need to know."

I rose from him and climbed under the sheets. "Right to know, Max? I don't work that way. All you had to say was that you worked in a classified job. That's all. What's the big deal?"

"I work in a classified job."

"Stop it. It is way too late for that. Now you have to tell me more. I refuse to believe I would ever live with a man living some other life I know nothing about."

"It is of no importance to you. Ann, what I do for a living has nothing to do with us ..."

"Except I'm now being investigated. Oh, yeah. I know that, don't look at me like I'm being ridiculous. Let me tell you, they may not like what they find in my past. What are you going to do then if your job relies on me getting a clean bill of health? And what, for fuck's sake, does it matter to the government if we're shacking up? Or was that just a coincidence that they stopped by to find me moving in here?"

"I work for a government contractor. There are periodic security updates done on me. It was a coincidence they were here today. But I would have had to notify them once my living conditions solidified, Ann. Of course they would be concerned ... until you, I had no vulnerabilities."

"That's what I am to you? A 'vulnerability'? A fucking 'vulnerability?' Gee. Thanks."

His hand came from nowhere to clamp over my jaw and stop me half way into a rant. I laid there and waited on him. Finally ... "Until you, I had nothing in my life that would have mattered greatly to lose. Now I have you. Trust me, cara, I shall have to make adjustments."

So now I know. He told me a lot. I understood a lot better about his 'thing' about me being safe. That this was something that would have haunted him forever ... if I'd ever been harmed by someone seeking to harm him.

I never did tell him that Dino had already told me most of it. I needed Max to tell me. To tell me all I should know. I needed to know he understood that, while his instincts and his cultural norms were to not divulge such information to his woman, that he wasn't dealing with a woman from his time. He was dealing with me.

Dino, of course, knows how a modern woman thinks, I believe. It's why he told me what he could; and he knew about Max's job because he and Terry that helped Max get the job.

After he told me and I was staring out the window, fuming that I was finding out not from Max but from Dino ... he asked me if I was really ready for a life with a man like Max, who'd have a place of honor for his duty and it would be a separate place from me and him. A man whose expectations of the future and whose experiences of the past were another world from mine.

My answer? He's the man who is changing my life because he was able to get me to commit to loving him. I was smart enough not to walk away from that, right?

It may not seem like much, this moment between Max and I when he had to say what his job was. It was, though. I saw it as a concession he made because he trusted in me. He told me later that he had been secretly pleased to find out I'd given those investigators a holy ration of hell when I thought Max had been in danger. He said he liked my strength.

And so here we go ... on this thrill ride, around a bend and not knowing what awaits us. Does it still scare me, this living with him? You bet. I wonder if he even has a concept of how big of a step this is for me.

You know, the one thing that still gets to me is what Dino said about what my expectations might have been when Max asked me to move in with him. That bit about how maybe I'd actually been disappointed that he hadn't been instead asking me to marry him. Like maybe that's what I thought he should have done.

I'm not that old-fashioned, I had scoffed to Dino.

Sometimes, it's the ones who rebel the hardest against conventions who most respect them, he said to me. 

Had I thought about marriage to Max? Had I glanced in the jewelry store windows as I shopped in the mall and paused even a fraction of a second to look at engagement rings and imagine I'd wear one someday? I did more than pause. Yeah, I thought about it.

Sure, it surprised me that I did. I still think it's a bunch of romantic, sentimental crap, though. But I guess I'm adult enough to admit that I'm enough like most women that I could have those kinds of sappy thoughts when I was in love. It's all cultural conditioning, I think.

It sure the hell is confusing to be where I am. I'm living with a man I barely know in some ways and yet I know he's the only partner I want on this ride into the future.