Without skipping a beat, he walks around the breakfast bar with two glasses of soda, and answers, “Because I like you, and I want you to like me too.”
That statement does something to me. My stomach clenches. Heat blooms in my middle.
If you only knew how much I liked you…
“I do like you,” I answer weakly and unconvincingly.
He stills mid-step and grins. “No. You don’t,” he throws me a wink, “but I’m working on that.”
Oh man, you aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed, are you, Max?
He pulls my chair out and motions for me to sit. I hesitate a moment before allowing his assistance. He gently pushes my chair in like a gentleman, then sits himself down opposite me. I look down at my heaped plate, and then look up at him. He shoots me a panty-dropping smile and a sudden thought rushes through my mind:
I could get used to looking up at that smile.
He works on cutting a piece of steak, and by how quickly he does it, I know it’s butter soft. He lifts his fork to his mouth, but holds it mid-air. “Why don’t you like me again?”
I sigh exaggeratingly long. Can’t we move past this already? “We’ve been through this before, Max. I like you fine.”
He smiles, chews, and then swallows. “You don’t treat me like you treat Nik, Ash, or Trick. You treat me different.”
That’s ‘cause you’re so gorgeous you literally make my eyes water.
I pick at my food and mumble, “I never really noticed. Sorry.” Desperate to change the subject, I ask, “Where is Ceecee tonight?”
Max chews his food carefully. When he swallows, his eyes meet mine. So much sadness there. “She’s at my mom’s. She wanted to sleep over there tonight, and she wants to sleep at Nik’s tomorrow. The next day, she’ll tell me she wants to stay at Mom’s again. I just…” He shrugs, helpless.
“She’s avoiding you.” A statement. A sad one.
His low voice stabs me directly in the heart. “She doesn’t like me much right now.”
As I cut into my steak—my butter soft steak, damn him—he starts, “I know I haven’t given you much of a choice with training Ceecee, but I meant what I said. I would do anything for her. I don’t mind stepping on toes to do that. She’s my everything, ya know?”
I take a moment to digest those words.
Would I do the same for my own children? Absolutely.
His eyes meet mine. I watch him closely a moment before I smile. “I know. Besides, I actually found some things I think might suit her.” I lift the fork to my mouth. The moment the steak hits my tongue, I groan. “Oh my God, this is awesome.” I moan and groan some more before asking, “What did you use to marinade this?”
His brows rise in surprise. “Yeah?” He looks down at his steak, and for a moment, I think he’s embarrassed. “It’s a family recipe.” His trademark grin appears. “If I told you, I’d have to kiss you.”
I pause mid-chew. “You mean you’d have to kill me.”
His grin grows. His eyes train on my lips. “Nope, I’d have to kiss you.”
Ignoring my racing heart’s ‘yes, please!’ and tummy’s flutters, I roll my eyes and chuckle. “You’re a dork.” Thinking more about Ceecee, I nod and state confidently, “I’m excited to try something new with Ceecee. And if those things don’t work, I’ll keep looking. There are a lot of options out there. There’s bound to be at least one thing she’ll take to. If it’s out there, I’ll find it.”
The sound of a chair screeching makes my ears bleed. Suddenly, I’m lifted out of my chair and off the ground. His arms wrap tightly around me and pull me close. Chest to stomach, I breathe him in. I lightly snake my arms around his toned middle and rub his back. He breathes into my ear, “You’re amazing.”
My light squeeze becomes firm. This should feel awkward, but it doesn’t. Not at all. I love the feel of him, the smell of him. Just him. I tell him honestly, “We’ll figure this out. Together.”
He holds me a long moment before he responds a hesitant and quiet, “Good, ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
My arms squeeze, offering him comfort and support. I pull away and smile up at him. “I’m starved.”
His eyes warm. “Let’s eat.”
***