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Sugar Rush (Friend-Zoned 3)

Page 34

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r /> Don’t give me that shit. “Yes you can. One more set.”

Her hands start to shake in the handles of the pulley as she lowers herself back down to the padded mat. “No more.”

I push harder. “One more. It’s one more. You can do it. Show me how strong you are.”

But she’s had it. Frustrated and annoyed, she throws down the handles of the pulley and yells, “I’m done. God, stop yelling at me!”

I wasn’t yelling at her. Even so, I lower my voice a little. “I wasn’t yelling at you, baby. I was motivating you.”

She pulls herself towards the edge of the mat, over to her chair. Sweaty and panting, she lowers herself into her chair, and without another word, she wheels herself away. Fast. I look around the room I had converted into a makeshift gym for me and my girl, and sigh. “Fuck.”

Just another day. It’s getting harder and harder to motivate Ceecee. She’s becoming a woman; her attitude is changing. She’s not as compliant as she used to be. She’s becoming her own person. Which is great. Which also sucks. For me. I’m thinking the only thing I can do right now is ask Whit to take her on full-time again. If he doesn’t, I don’t know what I’ll do.

Chapter Eleven

Helena

I wake around noon on Sunday. And when I say I wake, I mean I’m woken by loud ass banging coming through the wall.

At first, I thought it was maintenance working on the building, but with a cringe to end all cringes, I quickly work out what the noise is.

“Oh God, baby! Yes, Ash. Do it just like—Yes! Keep going. I’m almost there. Almost there. Almost—” A long, drawn out female moan has me jumping out of bed.

“Oh my freaking God! Dude!” Covering my ears, I chant, “Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew,” as I run into the bathroom.

I change into sweats and a loose tee, pull my hair into a high ponytail, and throw in my headphones, quickly blasting some random song on my MP3 player that I don’t really hear at all. I’m just glad it’s blocking out my sister’s sexcapades. Not knowing or caring if the main event is over, I walk back into my room, snatch up my cell, and type out a heated text.

Me: Dude! The walls are paper thin. SERIOUSLY! Keep the moaning to a minimum. Pretty fucking please!!!

After a second, I quickly type again.

Me: You know what? Moan all you like. I’m out. Peace, bruh.

I walk out the apartment, and just as I’m about to close the door behind me, I spot something out the corner of my eye. Faster than I thought possible, I spin on my heel and rush back inside, shutting the door behind me as quietly as possible.

My chest heaving, I lift my wide eyes to the peephole and peek out. I see nothing, but I hear something. I pull out my headphones and listen intently.

“Why, hello, dear.” That’s Mrs. Crandle.

I hear no one respond.

Mrs. Crandle mutters, “I’m well, thank you.” She sounds happy. “What’s your name, sweetie?” Silence, then she speaks again. “Very nice to meet you. Won’t you come in?” A moment’s quiet before I hear her speak softly. “That would be very nice. Thank you.” Her voice turns to a morose hush. “I don’t get much company.” And even though I’m not sure who she’s talking to, or if she’s talking to anyone at all, I feel shame course through me. Mrs. Crandle is my neighbor. I should be more neighborly. I had no idea she was lonely. “Okay, dear. Come around for tea sometime. I’ll introduce you to my cats.”

A low, masculine chuckle sounds before his face is right in my vision. My heart skips a beat. I place a hand over my mouth to stop the squeak from escaping.

Knock knock knock

I hold my breath. If he thinks I’m not home, he’s bound to leave. Ten seconds pass. I’m about to pass out if I don’t breathe again soon.

Knock knock knock

My face is surely turning purple. My lungs burn. I see the light. Need. Air. To. Live.

Knock knock knock

He sighs. “Helena, I know you’re in there. I can see the shadow of your feet from under the door.”

I huff in a much-needed breath. Panting, I glower at him through the door. There’s only one thing to do now. I turn the volume up on my MP3 player to an ear-splitting level. I open the door as if I hadn’t known he was there all along. I fake a look of surprise. “Max. I didn’t hear you there.” I point to the earphones and hope he can’t see the blood leaking down the sides of my face from the loud screeching currently being projected into my ears. I turn it down and remove the earphones. All I hear is ringing. It’s quite possible I have caused permanent damage.



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