Sugar Rush (Friend-Zoned 3)

Heart fluttering, I sit at the table and look around me. A small smile graces my lips. I quickly realize there is no place I’d rather be.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Helena

I’m pissed.

Stupid brain.

After last night’s dinner, I decided it was too late to do a session with Ceecee. Not only that, but we’d eaten our weight in nachos. Ceecee had done such a great job with cooking that I’d gone back for seconds. And it wasn’t even sympathy seconds. The nachos were good.

Watching Max eat was something else. I had seen him eat before, but I never really noticed the little noises he makes when he’s eating something he enjoys. His small murmurs of approval, his discreet nods, and furrowed brows of concentration—it was almost as if he was having a conversation with his dinner. And, of course, it was completely adorable. The ass.

We showered compliments to the chef, and from her shy smile and neon pink blush, I think she liked that. When I asked her what days she’d like me to come over, she looked at her dad, then back to me and responded, “You can come any day after five pm.” She suddenly looked nervous, but added quietly, “And you don’t have to come just three days. If you don’t have anything to do or whatever, you can come here.”

My body stilled in stunned disbelief. Was this Ceecee’s way of telling me we are friends? I believed it was. Not being able to stop myself and craving the affections of this little creature, I leaned down, wrapped my arms around her, and told her, “I will definitely keep that in mind, sweetie.” As I pulled away, I added, “I’d hate for you to get sick of me though.”

She lowered her eyes and mumbled, “That won’t happen.” And my heart soared.

Max told Ceecee to get her things then, and confusion settled over me. Then I remembered what Max had told me the other night about Ceecee not wanting to be at home, about her avoiding him. She was likely going to sleep at Nik and Tina’s. Ceecee looked up at her dad. She didn’t move. When she spoke softly, I melted on the floor in a big puddle of sap. “Actually, Daddy, I think I might stay here tonight.”

To say Max looked surprised was a complete understatement. He looked like he might just break into interpretive dance. They dropped me off at home and I thanked them for dinner. When I made my way inside, I couldn’t stop smiling. And as soon as I turned on the light, glancing around my very empty apartment, I couldn’t help but feel a loss.

I didn’t understand it. I had always been the type of person who was able to entertain myself, and do it happily. I liked my alone-time. So why did being alone right now feel so…lonely?

I avoided being attacked by Tedwood by catching him mid-attack and dropping him out into the hall. I made my way to the bathroom and showered before bed. As my soapy hands roamed over my body, I imagined another set of hands on me. A large, masculine set of hands that would explore me, a pair of golden eyes looking into me, and a sexy dimple I wanted to lick taunting me. My palms glanced over my nipples and my body convulsed.

I was panting. My stomach dipped. I was already there. My hand slid down my belly, down further, lower to my spread legs. My fingers glided over my clit, and my legs became weak. Leaning my head on the tiled wall of the shower, my touch firmed. I rubbed harder over my swollen bud, images of sex assaulting my mind. Max’s mouth on me, all over. His hands gripping me tight. His cock deep inside of me, thrusting hard enough to make me whimper.

Holy shit.

My body jerked. I felt it happening. A sweet numbness swept over me. Gentle tingles hit my core. I tipped my head back, mouth parted in a delicious wave of pleasure. My fingers worked harder, harder, the tingles intensifying, and then I was there. A long moan was torn from deep in my throat as my pussy convulsed, over and over. I cupped myself. My body jerked uncontrollably. Then suddenly, I was tired.

I stayed in the shower longer than I should have, glued to the spot. After I rinsed myself a second time, I stepped out, got dressed feeling like a tramp, and went to bed, my loneliness eating away at me.

There was only one place I wanted to be, and it wasn’t home.

And that’s why I’ve spent most of my night awake making three trays of breakfast muffins, eating whatever I had in the house, and getting angry with myself. Sure, it’s not my fault I was forced into a friendship with Ceecee. It’s Max’s. So, really, I should be angry at Max. My face softens.

Who could ever be angry at Max?

I stomp my foot on the ground, ball my hands into fists, and growl. Damn him. I have never been so befuddled before. Part of me is ecstatic that I’m breaking through Ceecee’s wall, the other part of me is pissed that Max is breaking through mine. How was I ever meant to keep my heart safe?

Max is a good guy, down to his core. He’s a great dad, and the type of friend any person would count herself lucky to have. Let’s be honest here. I never stood a chance. Shaking my head in frustration, I take the three full containers of muffins and place one in my freezer. I open my apartment door, write on my little portable whiteboard, and make my way across the hall. My finger presses the button at the side of the door. A few seconds pass before it opens.

Mrs. Crandle looks up at me through her coke-bottle glasses. Smiling, I hand her a container full of muffins and hold the board up for her to read. ‘Good morning, Mrs. Crandle. I made these for you. I’m on my way to work, so I can’t stay and chat, but I promise to come over for tea again!’

Her eyes follow my words. She looks up at me and smiles softly, taking the container. “Why, thank you, dear.” Her smile turns sad. “You’re a good egg, Helena.”

Walking backwards, I quickly write, ‘I’ll come by soon.’

She answers quietly, “That would be lovely, dear.”

I turn, raise my hand, and knock on Nat’s door. No one answers. I lift my hand to knock again when guilt assaults me. She and Ash wouldn’t need to wake up so early if it weren’t for me. If I had a car, they’d be able to sleep in, and lord knows when the babies get here they won’t be doing much of that anymore. Guilt seeps from my pores. I’m a shitty sister. I lower my hand, walk down the stairs, and lift my cell to my ear. He answers immediately, “Hey, everything okay?”

I silently cringe. “You wouldn’t happen to be going past my place, would you?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “I’m about three minutes away. Meet you in the parking lot.”