Sugar Rush (Friend-Zoned 3)

Kate returns with a plate full of nachos, piled with ground beef, oozing cheese, and chopped tomatoes. It looks amazing, and the smell of the spices has me salivating. She places it down in front of me with a smile. “Enjoy. Call me when you’re ready to order.”

Max starts, “We’re ready to—” And I laugh as she turns, swishing her hair, and walks away, obviously ignoring him. Max eyes my plate, licking his lips. “Can I get in on that?”

Lifting a corn chip stacked with goodies, I shake my head. “Nope. Consider it your punishment,” I tease, then I shove it in my mouth.

A pathetic look crosses Max’s face. He rubs absently at his belly. “But I’m hungry.”

Adorable.

No. Scratch that.

Adorably pathetic.

I reach across the small table to cup his pathetic cheek. He leans into my touch and I purse my lips, muttering, “Nawww, my big, stupid baby.” He pouts, nodding in agreement, and although this is the worst date I’ve ever been on in my life, I’m having so much fun. And I don’t know why! Something pushes that thought to air. I tell him, “This has been the worst date ever,” but I do it with a smile. A real smile.

Max leans further into my cheek, eyes apologetic, and mouths, “Sorry.”

Pulling my hand away, I admit, “But I’m having so much fun,” I throw him a shy smile, “with you.”

He smiles then, his billion-dollar, GQ magazine smile. “Naw, shucks, lady.” But his smile falters. “You sure you’re not pissed about that girl?”

“Am I going home with you tonight?” I ask.

His brows narrow. “Damn straight.”

I shrug. “Then I don’t care.” Smiling, I nibble at a corn chip. “I win.”

Something about my answer affects him, and I’m not sure how to read it. His eyes widen a little before they hood. He looks to be biting the inside of his cheek, as if trying to keep his mouth shut. Shaking his head, he mutters, “You are somethin’ else.”

When Kate returns, she takes our order from Max, glowering at him the entire time, but sparing a sweet smile for me as she leaves. She brings our meals and places the plates down in front of me gently, using as much care as possible, but when she places plates down in front of Max, she releases them an inch above the table, making them clash and clatter before turning and swishing her hair as she walks away. And I chuckle to myself. He must’ve really pissed her off. Meh. Serves him right.

I place the nachos in the middle of the table and reach over to his plate to snatch one of the most perfect looking chicken enchiladas I have ever seen. Max watches in shock as I steal from his plate. Bunching his nose, he reaches over to my plate and steals one of my steak fajitas in retaliation.

I smile over at him and wink. Little does he know, I am not Nat. Sharing food makes me happy. Nat would cut a bitch for stealing off her plate. I cut a piece of enchilada and pop it into my mouth. The fresh, spiced flavor is amazing. I moan and close my eyes. It’s only when my eyes flutter open that I realize Max is talking.

“I’m sorry. What?”

He grins. “I asked you if you left a guy back home.”

He’s asking me if I had a boyfriend back home? Why the sudden interest? Don’t read too much into it, numbskull. Shaking my head slowly, I cut at the enchilada for a second bite. “No. I didn’t have time to date back home, and I never planned on dating here. I suppose I could have dated back home, but then where would that leave the guy? Probably in a corner.” Like Baby in Dirty Dancing. “My job comes first, and as long as I’m building up my hours, I think it would be unfair to commit to someone, knowing they’d have little to no time with me.”

Max looks down at his plate, confusion written all over his face. I ask a long, drawn out, “What?”

Lifting his face, brows still furrowed, he replies softly, “I think whatever amount of your time you could give a guy, he’d be grateful for.” He holds my eyes. “He’d be a lucky man to have you, cupcake. Even for a minute.”

Oh shit. That was deep and sweet and freaking adorable. My heart pounds in time with my head. I’m in trouble. Stop it, Max! I’m not meant to love you!

If he’s venturing into deep water, I feel as I thought I should be meeting him halfway. “Tell me about Ceecee’s mom.”

He immediately stiffens. “No.”

My brows rise at the hatred in his voice. “Uh, okay.”

We eat in silence for a little while as I give him the few minutes to calm down before I notice him deflate. His shoulders slump and jaw tight, he mutters, “Sorry. She’s a sore subject.”

I nod. “Understandable.” The silence between us is so thick it’s becoming awkward. And I’ve not had an awkward moment with Max since we’ve been dating. I don’t like it. Reaching over the table, I rest my hand on his forearm. “We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. But if you need someone to talk to, I’m here with open ears.”

His eyes dart from the hand on his arm then up to my face, searching. He looks suspiciously toward me. “That’s it? No ‘I asked you, so you gotta tell me’ or ‘Fine, we’re done’ bullshit?”