Sugar Rush (Friend-Zoned 3)

He pushes gently. “I’ve got all day, girl. We’re gonna get this out of the way.” I really need to pee now. His eyes train on me. He’s not going to let me go without an answer.

I sigh and lean back into the bench. “It’s not that I don’t like you. I don’t know you, Max. You just do things I generally don’t like in a guy.” I fiddle with the straw in my now-empty glass. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

“I don’t believe that.”

My head snaps up. “What?”

His golden eyes trained on me, he responds in all seriousness. “A girl like you…she’s not a problem. She’s cool. I mean, I think you’re cool, which makes me think I did something to piss you off.”

I’m cool? My heart flutters and leans against the closest wall while letting out a dreamy sigh. My cheek tics at how right his stab in the dark is. “You did nothing.” The lie sounds as weak as the person making it.

He taps a finger on the table and avoids my eyes. When he speaks again, it’s quiet and meaningful. “I don’t know what I did. Chances are, I didn’t mean to. So maybe…I mean, I hope I can just say sorry now and we can be friends, because,” his expression earnest, he utters, “I could use another friend.” He looks up, nothing but sincerity in his eyes. “I could always use another friend.”

It almost sounds like plea. One I refuse to ignore. “We can be friends, Max. I’m sorry for being a judgey shrew. Like I said, I don’t know you.”

He smiles. “Give me a chance and I’ll make sure you never regret it.” Not a plea. A vow.

I can’t stop myself. I roll my eyes and tease, “Would it kill you to stop the flirting?”

He actually looks confused. “What flirting?”

I smile harder, waiting for him to laugh, but his brow creases further. Oh Lord…he doesn’t know. How do I broach this delicate subject? “Well, in the half-hour we’ve been together today, you’ve flirted…a lot.”

He looks at me like I’m clearly seeing things. “What? No I haven’t.”

My smile falls away. “Yeah, you have.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yah huh.”

He sits straighter on the bench and holds his arms out in question. “When, huh?”

I return, quick as lightning, “First, with me in my kitchen, second, with the ladies on the street, and now, with Shelly.” He snorts and I feel the need to add, “Hell, I don’t even know what you said to her, but I can pretty much guarantee you were flirting with old lady Crandle too!”

He wears a look that says bless your heart little one and chuckles. “That’s not flirting. That’s being friendly.”

Is he for real? I scoff. “No it isn’t, Max! That’s ridiculous.”

He waves a hand in my direction dismissively. “That’s just me being friendly. I’m a friendly guy, Lena.”

I like that he called me Lena. A little too much. Which, of course, adds fuel to my fire. Invisible steam pours from my ears. My cheeks heat in frustration. “You’re not friendly; you’re a horn dog!”

Shelly comes by with our food and he gestures to her. “Perhaps we’ll ask someone else, shall we?”

I nod. “By all means.”

He asks Shelly, “Helena here thinks I’m a serial flirt. I’m trying to explain to her that I’m just being friendly, but she doesn’t get it. What do you think, Shell?”

He lays on a million dollar smile and she looks at him a moment before her eyes narrow. She turns to me with a look that questions his sanity and whispers, “He doesn’t even know, does he?” I shake my head, fighting a smile.

Max’s smile fades. “What? Don’t know what?”

Shelly places a hand on his shoulder in consolation and hits him with it. “Honey, she’s right. You’re a flirt.” Shocked, he opens his mouth to protest, but she cuts him off. “That’s not a bad thing, Max. You’re good at making people feel comfortable with you, but I think if you’ll look back, you’ll find the majority of the people you befriend are, well, women.” Shelly leaves us alone to eat our late breakfast. She squeezes Max’s shoulder as she goes.

I don’t feel very hungry. Victory leaves a sour taste in my mouth. “You okay?”

He nods, picking at his food. “I’m good.” But it’s a lie.