Max leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers, lingering there for a brief moment before stepping back. “I think it worked pretty well.”

Stunned, Angela stared at him. Yes, it was an innocent kiss, so quick it barely warranted mention. But she hadn’t had a chance to prepare herself. Max Morgan, the man of her teenage dreams, had just kissed her! That simple touch had a startling effect on her body. Her pulse began racing and a warm flush crept up her cheeks. She opened her mouth, then quickly snapped it shut. Any attempt to put together a clever comeback would result in a string of incoherent babble.

His expression shifted suddenly and she thought she saw a flash of regret cross his deeply tanned face. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean anything by that. Really.” He grabbed her hand. “Maybe we could start over? I’m Max Morgan. And the reason I came over here was to tell you that you look incredible in that dress. The color is…amazing.”

Angela cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. Rewind. Begin again. Gather your composure and act as if the kiss meant nothing. It didn’t mean anything at all! “That was a pretty good line. Honesty. I like that.”

“I was an Eagle Scout. We’re big on honesty.”

“I know,” she said. She knew every arcane detail about Max. “I mean, Eagle Scouts are supposed to be trustworthy, right? You should have probably led with that instead of the angel line.”

He held out his hand. “Hello, I’m Max Morgan, former Eagle Scout.”

“Angela Weatherby,” she replied. “Former…” What could she say. Wallflower? Introvert? Stalker? “President of the Latin Club.”

“Really?” he asked. “So, you’re smart and beautiful.”

“And you’re cheeky and charming,” Angela replied.

Max pushed away from the bar. “Would you like to get out of here? It’s a nice night. Why don’t we take a walk?”