Part 6 (1/2)

Before anyone can say a thing, I'm out the door with my plunder. When I close the door behind me, I reach into the box, take a caramel cupcake, take off the wrapper, and shove the whole thing into my mouth. The sweet saltiness rolls around in my mouth, I feel the thick frosting on my lips, and I slump in what I know is a sugar rush.

I live for this.

Speaking to myself, I lean against the wall and garble, ”Oh, sweet Jesus. Yes.” I swallow, sigh, and make my way back to the apartment feeling a little bit better about myself.

Or, at least, I pretend to.

Max Poor Helena.

She didn't look too good. I mean, she looked good, but she seemed a little off. Even a blind person could see how pretty she is. That thick, brown hair almost touching her waist. Bright green eyes that are even brighter than Nat's. Those long black lashes making her eyes look huge. Those perky t.i.ts, and best of all...

That a.s.s.

Motherf.u.c.k me straight to h.e.l.l.

The girl's feeling like s.h.i.+t, and I'm checking out her firm, round peach. I'm a bad, bad man.

Now that I think about it, pretty isn't a strong enough word for her. Stunning might be close, but even that sounds too flat to use for someone who has a light around her. She literally glows when she smiles. Makes me wonder why I never noticed her before.

Pizza arrives not long after she leaves, and I need a beer. I call out, ”Beer?”

All the guys raise their hands. I head into the kitchen, where Nat is preparing a salad to go with the pizza. I open the fridge and fish out four beers. When I straighten, I tell her, ”I'm going next-door, see if Helena wants a slice.”

Nat stiffens. She doesn't talk for a long while. Finally, she utters, ”Yeah, I wouldn't do that.”

I shrug. ”Why? She's your sister. And she's not feeling great.” I pause before adding, ”She's cool.”

She makes a choking noise before trying to string her words together. ”Well, it's just that she...uh...she, well...” She cringes before explaining very, very slowly, ”She's not your biggest fan, Max.”

My breath leaves me in a whoosh. I don't understand. This has never happened to me before. I blink at her before shouting a high-pitched, ”What?”

Nat continues to putter around the kitchen. ”I know, right? So weird. I can't believe we're related sometimes.”

I'm still in shock. I ask a panicked, ”Why?”

She lifts a shoulder. ”Well, she says you're a flirt.”

What the h.e.l.l? My defenses at an all-time high, and I sputter, ”I'm a single man! I'm allowed to flirt!”

”Preaching to the choir, babe.”

My mouth gapes. I can't comprehend what I'm being told. ”But why?”

Nat turns and comes at me, wearing a face full of sympathy. She cups my cheek and speaks gently, ”Sometimes people don't like other people, and sometimes they don't need a reason at all. It happens, honey.”

Now I'm just sad. ”But everyone loves me. I'm adorable.”

She pulls my face down to her and kisses my forehead. ”If it means anything, I think you're the best thing since sliced bread.”

I try not to pout, but it's hard. Really hard. ”Why doesn't she like me? I like her.”

”Leave it alone.”

”No way!” Determination pulses through my veins. ”Only one thing to do now.”

Nat eyes me suspiciously. ”I'm almost scared to ask.”

I stride to the door. ”I'm going to make her like me.”

She calls out after me, ”It doesn't work that way, Max. You can't make her do anything!”

”Watch me!”

Challenge accepted.

Chapter Seven.

Max Just before I make my exit, I pick up my plate of pizza and take it with me. Truthfully, I'm a little p.i.s.sed I'm having to prove I'm a good guy to some chick I don't even know.

At least, I think I'm a good guy.

My stomach twists in knots.

Great. Now she's got you questioning yourself. What a b.i.t.c.h.

Hey now, brain. Don't you talk about her like that. I'd hate to have to kick your a.s.s.

My brain smiles and nods in approval.

See? Good guy.

Knowing somebody doesn't like you for such a weak reason sucks hairy b.a.l.l.s. But it quickly makes me wonder if some a.s.shole ex-boyfriend of hers was a flirt, someone who flirted with women in front of her. I shake my head at the thought of wanting to break Helena's non-existent ex-boyfriend's nose. No way would anyone who had a woman like that risk losing her over somethin' so stupid.

It don't matter. I'm determined to win her over. Mark my words; we are going to be friends. If I could just get her to see what a nice guy I am...

Standing in front of her door, I hold my plate in one hand and raise the other to knock. A few seconds later, Helena answers the door wearing the ugliest navy flannel pajamas I have ever seen. I have no idea how she's pulling off looking s.e.xy in 'em. Her hair in a messy knot at the very top of her head, and I smile at how adorable she looks.

Brows bunched in confusion, she begins to ask, ”What are you-” but as I move to step inside, I trip over my untied shoelace. The plate in my hand is projected forward, and in slow motion, I watch as the three pieces of pizza fly through the air and splatter across the front of her sleep-s.h.i.+rt.

Her mouth gaping and body rigid, she stands there wide-eyed, in shock. A whimper leaves her mouth. I stare at the tomato sauce marking her and I can't help it.

I snort.