Part 5 (2/2)

Ash's face turns bright red. He moves over to Max and grips the front of his s.h.i.+rt. ”You better start talkin', or I'm gonna start maulin'.”

Max just chuckles. ”Relax, Ghost.” His face suddenly turns dreamy. ”Her bed smells like vanilla. And she smells like cupcakes.”

My stomach flip-flops. d.a.m.n him! d.a.m.n him and his words to heck!

But Ash is too busy focusing on the prior remark. ”When the f.u.c.k were you near her bed?”

Max, having no idea how close he is to being pummeled, shrugs. ”Today, when she arrived.”

Ash's face turns deadly. He lunges for Max, but I quickly step between them. ”It's not what you think! He was asleep on my bed when I first came into the apartment.”

Maria snorts. ”My brother-the cla.s.siest guy in New York,” she remarks, and then raises her gla.s.s in a silent toast before drinking the entire contents in one hit.

Mental note: Don't ever go drinking with Maria.

Max looks over at his sister then flips her the bird. He quickly defends himself. ”It's not like she was actually living there when I fell asleep.” His eyes narrow at me. ”So, really, you owe me an apology for cutting my nap short.”

Is...is he being serious?

His eyes remain narrowed, and I soon realize he isn't joking. I bark out a shocked, humorless laugh. ”In your dreams! I am not apologizing to you. Not now, not ever. For anything. Besides, you were basically squatting!”

Although his narrowed eyes don't ease, his lips twitch. It's then I notice how everyone around us is listening in on our non-argument.

They're all grinning.

All of them.

Nat quickly excuses herself, claiming the need to organize things in the kitchen, and pulls me along with her. She drags me so fast I'm all but running. As soon as we hit the kitchen, she whisper hisses, ”What the heck was that about?”

Searching the cupboards, I take out the dinner plates and set them on the counter. I answer quietly, ”I don't know what you're talking about.”

She moves to stand in front of me. ”No. You don't get to cut me out. Why are you so angry at Max?”

My shoulders lift in a casual it's-not-a-big-deal shrug. ”I just don't really like him, is all.”

A look of shock settles over her features. ”What? Why?”

I move to open the napkins. ”He's a total flirt. I hate that.”

She watches me closely for a moment before responding, ”He's a single guy. A good guy. And an even better dad. He's allowed to flirt, Lena.”

Folding napkins and placing them on each plate, I mutter, ”I bet he's got a string of women he's leading on right now.” The more I think about it, the testier I become. I start slapping folded napkins onto plates. Nat makes a choked noise and I look up to see her wide-eyed but tight-lipped. My brows bunch. ”He does, doesn't he?”

Those poor, stupid, defenseless women. Stupid, stupid women.

Her face turns expressionless. ”It's not your business, and not my business to tell.” To me, that automatically confirms my suspicions. But Nat quickly adds, ”You think a man like him-the man you're insinuating he is-could raise a beautiful little girl like Ceecee by being such a jerk?”

I pause mid-step. I hadn't really thought of Max as a dad in my vendetta against him. And Ceecee is truly a remarkable young woman. Part of me wants to believe he's a good guy. I mean, I used to think he was a good guy, but I was clearly blinded by my being smitten with him. Now those feelings are gone.

And you're bitter.

Am not.

Yeah, ya are.

Suddenly, I feel a bit like a hole-of the a.s.s variety.

”I'm not saying he's not a good dad...”

Nat quickly returns, ”Just not a good guy.”

Well, when you put it like that, of course it's going to sound d.i.c.kish.

She takes the plates and napkins, and moves to stand directly in front of me. ”Listen, I don't know what's going on with you, but Max is one my best friends. If you got issues with him, ones that aren't even issues at all, you got issues with me.” My cheeks heat at her firm telling off. She goes on, ”I know he's a little flirty, but he's a great guy. He's generous, and funny, and kind, and thoughtful. He's one of the good guys.” She looks me in the eye. ”s.h.i.+t, he'd give the s.h.i.+rt off his back for someone who needed it!”

I roll my eyes at the clear over-exaggeration, and she begins to walk away. Leaving the kitchen, she turns back around to me. My heart clenches when I spot disappointment in her eyes. Lowering her voice, she utters, ”I've seen him do it.”

My throat thickens in shame. Sometimes it's hard to swallow your own bulls.h.i.+t. My heart sinks, and I suddenly wish I could go home. Before I can think too hard about what Nat said, I step back into the living area, wringing my hands together. ”Guys, I'm so sorry, but I'm suddenly not feeling the best.”

To my absolute horror, Max is the first to approach me. He stands a foot away from me, searching my face. He mutters, ”Lookin' a bit pale there.” As if there is no other option in his mind, he places his hand on my shoulder and says, ”C'mon. I'll walk you home.”

That shame I felt before? It floods my system.

Oh G.o.d. You're an a.s.shole. It's a little too much at this moment. I step away and look to the ground. ”No, stay. It's just next-door. I'll be fine.”

Nat comes at me from the side and lies for me. ”Oh, honey, you said you weren't feeling great before, but I didn't think it was that bad.” She hugs me and whispers, ”It's okay. Go home and rest up.”

I mumble back, ”I'm sorry I'm being a d.i.c.khead tonight. I think I'm just overwhelmed.”

She nods into my shoulder. ”S'okay. I know how that feels.”

We separate and she smiles at me. A real smile. I don't realize how much I need that smile until I see it and it eases my soul. As I walk to the door, I turn halfway and mutter a poor excuse for a goodbye. ”See ya, guys. Sorry.”

Tina quickly calls out, ”Take a cupcake with you!”

Oh my gads! That's exactly what I need. I shoot her a smile before heading over to the bright purple box of cupcakes. Normally, Tina would make them, but being she was at work, they bought some from a bakery close to work. Nat says they're almost as good as Tina's.

I don't think anything could be as good as Tina's baking. When I open the box, I suppress a gasp. So pretty! There are three different kinds. I smile to myself. All the cupcakes I asked for are there. Which one to take though? This is a tough decision. The caramel ones are delicious, but so are the vanilla cream. The choc fudge is a given. But should I take just one? I don't know what New York cupcake etiquette is! At home, it was first come, first serve, and you were lucky if you got one at all, because, let's be honest here...who ever eats one cupcake? Doesn't happen.

I reach for a caramel one, but pull back.

Okay. The vanilla cream. Yes, I'll go with the vanilla.

I reach for it, but pull back again. Geez, I'm in bad shape over here. Is cupcake anxiety a thing? The choc fudge is always delicious. I reach for one of those and hesitate. I swoop up the box and look over to the gang. ”I'm taking this.”

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