Sugar Rush (Friend-Zoned 3)

“Are too.”

A knock at my door sounds and I roll my eyes at her need to take this argument face-to-face. “Am not times a hundred.”

I walk over to the door as she says smartly, “Are too times infinity.”

Shit. What beats infinity?

Unlatching the door, I pull it open and grin. “Am not!”

But it’s not Nat. It’s Max.

My heart races.

He looks almost as bad as I feel. Nat calls out, “So I’m guessing by your silence that I’ve won this round.”

I shake my head and speak into the cell, “Sorry, I gotta go. Max is here.”

She purrs into the phone. “Ah, I get ya.” Then sings, “Let me lick you up and down ‘til you say stop.”

I fight my hysterical laugh and mumble, “Yeah, like I said, I gotta go.”

But she ignores me, singing louder, “Let me play with your body, baby, make you real hot.”

I hang up and swallow hard. “Hi.”

Max opens his mouth to speak, but Nat is not to be ignored. She shouts through the wall, “Let me do all the things you want me to do.” I cover my mouth with a hand, flushing as she finishes her solo. “’Cause tonight, baby, I wanna get freaky with you.” A moment later, she yells a huffy, “You shut up, ASSer!”

My face beet red, I bite the insides of my cheeks to stop myself from smiling, and look up at Max to ask quietly, “What are you doing here?”

He looks down at his feet and crosses his arms over his chest in a most defensive posture. “Can I come in?” He looks up at me then, asking gently, “Please?”

I push open the door and step aside as he enters, looking awkward and out of place. I close the door behind us and walk into the kitchen. Just because he yelled at me, blaming me for what happened this morning, doesn’t mean I can’t be polite. “Something to drink?” He shakes his head. I open the fridge. He’s always hungry. “Something to eat?’

He sighs, his brow pinched. “No. Thanks.”

I’m probably just delaying the inevitable, but it’s somewhat of a defense mechanism. “Are you sure?” I ask as I move to close the fridge, and he loses whatever

patience he has.

“Jesus, stop. Please. I just want to talk to you!”

Here it comes. The official break-up. Avoiding his eyes, I walk over to the sofa and sit. I play with my fingers, still not willing to look up into those gorgeous golden eyes. I feel the cushion depress, and his leg presses against mine. “Helena, look at me.”

I do. Only because if I don’t, I won’t believe this actually happened, and I don’t want to live in denial. He reaches over and takes my hand. I fight an eye roll. Oh, great, he’s holding my hand. Never a good sign. Just do it already. Put me out of my misery.

“Ceecee told me what happened. I know you didn’t have anything to do with Maddy showing up.” Vindicated. Well, at least that’s something. He adds, “I said some things to you in the heat of the moment. Things I didn’t mean, and I need to apologize for them.”

If I look him in the eye while he apologizes, I’ll cry. I dip my chin. His fingers grip my chin, lifting ‘til we’re eye-to-eye. He searches my face a long moment before he utters sincerely, “I’m sorry, cupcake.” His voice turns rough. “I am so sorry.”

My eyes fill with tears, but I refuse to let them fall. Instead, I whisper, “It’s okay.”

His eyes blaze. “It’s not okay. If anyone else spoke to you the way I did, I would fuckin’ murder them.”

My eyes close of their own accord. I repeat, “It’s okay. I forgive you. I know you were put in a stressful situation. Not only was your daughter hurt in the fray, but you thought I betrayed you after you told me Ceecee’s mom was a sore spot.” I stress the conviction by steadying my voice. “I get it. I do.” I open my eyes and take in a shaky breath. “But I never would. Betray you, that is.”

His face turns pained. “I know you wouldn’t, baby.”

Well. That’s that. I stand and head to my room. Taking out what I’d prepared when I got home earlier, I bring it out and hand him his overnight bag. He looks at it in confusion before he stands, towering over me, eyes blazing. He takes the bag from my fingers and throws it aside. It hits the ground with a dull thud. His eyes wide, he places his hands gently at the base of my neck, gets in my face, and states, “I’m not letting you break up with me. So you can go ahead and put that back in your closet.”