Chapter Thirty-Four
Helena
I manage to paste on a smile and quell down my stupid emotions enough to fake my happy, take Max’s hand, and walk down to his car with him. As we drive, he holds my hand. I look down at our entwined fingers and my chest pangs. What that simple gesture means to him and what it means to me are two different things. It means everything to me. To him, it’s just a sure sign he’s getting laid later. I clench my teeth and roll my eyes as I turn back to look out the window.
You’re so stupid. He doesn’t care about you. He cares about Ceecee. You’re being used.
Am not.
Hello? Dignity? Where the hell are you?
We made a deal. I knew what I was getting into. I shouldn’t be so shocked, and truthfully, I’m not. Max never promised me anything. I was the one who let herself get lost in false hope. I knew better than to do such a thing. I’d never have the sweet love that Tina and Nik have, or even the passionate love that Nat and Asher have. And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe I’d be content without it.
Then why is your heart aching just thinking about it?
I look over at Max, and as if he senses it, he turns to me. He searches my face, eyes narrowed before asking softly, “You okay, babe?”
“Of course,” I lie easily.
His fingers squeeze mine. “If you don’t want to do dinner, it’s okay. We can just get something to go and take it back to your apartment. Mom’s got Ceecee for the night.” His dimple pops out with his smile. “I can undress you and rub lotion into you. You know, give you a massage.”
I smile at that. Why does he have to be so clueless in some ways, make me angry, then say something sweet. It’s almost impossible to stay mad at him, damn it right to hell. I hide my smile by biting my lip. “Rub lotion into me? Massage me? Whoa. I wouldn’t dream of putting you through something like that.”
Max sighs, bringing my hand to his mouth, kissing my knuckles. “I admit it would be a trial, but I know together, we’ll get through it.”
Together.
My playful mood is gone with the use of that one word.
How long will we be together?
We arrive at the restaurant and Max manages a parking spot right out front. He warned me it wouldn’t be fancy, but I didn’t expect this. My mood picks up as he opens the passenger door for me like a gentleman. I ask in surprise, “Mexican?”
He shrugs, and I could be wrong, but I swear he blushes. “I wanted to take you someplace I love.” He stills. “You do like Mexican, right?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You don’t think you should’ve asked that beforehand?”
His face falls dramatically before he lifts a hand and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, Lena. I’m so sor—”
“I love Mexican,” I chuckle then tease, “dumbass.”
He breathes deep then lets out a long exhale. I take his hand, still chuckling, and he shoots daggers at me. He walks by my side, imitating me in a ridiculously high-pitched voice. “I love Mexican, dumbass.” His voice turns normal again and he mutters a low, “I would remind you that as soon as we leave, your ass is mine. I’d remember that if I were you.”
I round my mouth in mock-horror and stand on the spot, shaking my legs with enthusiasm. “Oh no. The bad man’s gonna get me.”
His palm connects with my ass hard, ripping a shocked yelp from my throat. He stands toe-to-toe with me, looking down into my face. “How’d you like that?”
I swallow hard and my nethers tingle. Honesty is the best policy, I’ve always said (when it suits me, of course). I respond a hushed, “I liked it enough to want to push my luck again, and again, and again.”
He lowers a hand to my collarbone, stroking his thumb over the sensitive skin there. His mouth hovers over mine. “Stop it.”
I run my bottom lip across his and mutter, “Stop what?”
He kisses me hard on the mouth. Pulling back a hairs-breadth, he bites my bottom lip, gently tugging at it before responding, “Stop being sexy.”
My grin is small, but it’s there. “Sorry, but you started it.”
He returns, “You started it.”