Natalie nodded. "I'll take care of him. Go."
Inside the house, it was dim and quiet. Natalie helped Max toward the hallway, each step a slow shuffle. He mumbled incoherently once or twice something about her or Lisa, but she did not ask him.
She opened his bedroom door and started guiding him toward the bed, but just as she reached to turn on the light, he shifted. Quick and heavy. He spun, trapping her suddenly between him and the closed door.
Natalie froze. Her hand instinctively reached for the doorknob behind her, but it was useless now. Max's arms weren't touching her, but his presence was a wall—his hands planted on either side of her head, caging her in.
Her breath hitched. His eyes were half-lidded, but intense. Sharp, even through the haze of alcohol.
"You are ignoring me?" he asked, voice low, ragged, too intimate.
The question cut through her like a blade, unexpected and raw.
Natalie's heart slammed against her ribs. "What…?"
