Part 19 (1/2)

Chapter Nineteen.

Helena How great are showers? Not only are they a pretty decent way to wash off stank, they're also relaxing as heck. I spend a good half-hour letting the borderline boiling water wash away the day's frustration. For some time, I simply stand under the spray and bask in the feeling of being submersed in my own little bubble of tranquility.

Today not being a hair-was.h.i.+ng day, I turn off the shower and step out. With the bathroom door wide open, I towel myself off before slipping on a white t-s.h.i.+rt bra and light blue boy-leg panties. Just as I'm about to step out of the door, a loud crash sounds in the kitchen.

I jump as the crash reverberates through my ears, but quickly sigh, ”Teddy. G.o.dd.a.m.n it, cat!” My feet are dragged from the bathroom to the hall. I squeak, then squawk, ”What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?”

Max doesn't look up. Instead, he finishes plating up steak, potatoes, and salad onto plates. ”Don't you use that tone with me, cupcake. Here I am slaving away over a hot stove all afternoon so we can eat together, and you stiff me. So I bring you dinner after a long day's work, and you use that tone?” He straightens, then tuts, ”Working girls.”

His eyes move to mine, widen, and then slide over my body. I'm not one hundred percent sure, but I think he drools a little. When his stunned expression is replaced by a leisurely grin, dimple flas.h.i.+ng, he drawls, ”I wasn't expecting dinner and a show.”

That's when I'm reminded I'm standing in the hall in my underwear. Not even my good underwear, but my Helena's-sleeping-alone-again underwear. My mouth wants to gape, but I stop myself. Instead, I decide to play it cool. Heart racing, I fake poise and murmur, ”I'm going to change.”

Max grins harder, placing a hand to his chest. ”Please, don't dress on my behalf.” I walk to my room, acting as normal as possible, but cringe when he calls out from behind me, ”I like your undies. They're not the usual type I see women wear. They say, 'I'm cool and I don't care what you think'. That's cool. I mean-”

I can't take his incessant rambling right now. ”Max, shut up!” I shriek.

His booming laughter fills my kitchen, and although I could die from embarra.s.sment, I like the sound of his unrestrained hilarity. My lips twitch when I realize he baited me...and I fell for it. I mutter under my breath, ”a.s.s.”

I quickly change into black yoga pants and a large, loose yellow tee and join him in the kitchen. He's already placed the plates and cutlery down on opposite sides of my small dining table. It smells amazing, but we'll be sitting so close together our knees will touch. It seems far too intimate.

My favorite yellow vase lies in the sink in pieces, and I'm reminded of the crash I heard. I narrow my gaze at Max. His eyes dart from side to side, clearly panicked. He suddenly blurts out, ”Someone broke that.”

Standing a foot away from the table, my body slumps in restlessness. ”Why are you doing this?”

Without skipping a beat, he walks around the breakfast bar with two gla.s.ses of soda, and answers, ”Because I like you, and I want you to like me too.”

That statement does something to me. My stomach clenches. Heat blooms in my middle.

If you only knew how much I liked you...

”I do like you,” I answer weakly and unconvincingly.

He stills mid-step and grins. ”No. You don't,” he throws me a wink, ”but I'm working on that.”

Oh man, you aren't the sharpest tool in the shed, are you, Max?

He pulls my chair out and motions for me to sit. I hesitate a moment before allowing his a.s.sistance. He gently pushes my chair in like a gentleman, then sits himself down opposite me. I look down at my heaped plate, and then look up at him. He shoots me a panty-dropping smile and a sudden thought rushes through my mind: I could get used to looking up at that smile.

He works on cutting a piece of steak, and by how quickly he does it, I know it's b.u.t.ter soft. He lifts his fork to his mouth, but holds it mid-air. ”Why don't you like me again?”

I sigh exaggeratingly long. Can't we move past this already? ”We've been through this before, Max. I like you fine.”

He smiles, chews, and then swallows. ”You don't treat me like you treat Nik, Ash, or Trick. You treat me different.”

That's 'cause you're so gorgeous you literally make my eyes water.

I pick at my food and mumble, ”I never really noticed. Sorry.” Desperate to change the subject, I ask, ”Where is Ceecee tonight?”

Max chews his food carefully. When he swallows, his eyes meet mine. So much sadness there. ”She's at my mom's. She wanted to sleep over there tonight, and she wants to sleep at Nik's tomorrow. The next day, she'll tell me she wants to stay at Mom's again. I just...” He shrugs, helpless.

”She's avoiding you.” A statement. A sad one.

His low voice stabs me directly in the heart. ”She doesn't like me much right now.”

As I cut into my steak-my b.u.t.ter soft steak, d.a.m.n him-he starts, ”I know I haven't given you much of a choice with training Ceecee, but I meant what I said. I would do anything for her. I don't mind stepping on toes to do that. She's my everything, ya know?”

I take a moment to digest those words.

Would I do the same for my own children? Absolutely.

His eyes meet mine. I watch him closely a moment before I smile. ”I know. Besides, I actually found some things I think might suit her.” I lift the fork to my mouth. The moment the steak hits my tongue, I groan. ”Oh my G.o.d, this is awesome.” I moan and groan some more before asking, ”What did you use to marinade this?”

His brows rise in surprise. ”Yeah?” He looks down at his steak, and for a moment, I think he's embarra.s.sed. ”It's a family recipe.” His trademark grin appears. ”If I told you, I'd have to kiss you.”

I pause mid-chew. ”You mean you'd have to kill me.”

His grin grows. His eyes train on my lips. ”Nope, I'd have to kiss you.”

Ignoring my racing heart's 'yes, please!' and tummy's flutters, I roll my eyes and chuckle. ”You're a dork.” Thinking more about Ceecee, I nod and state confidently, ”I'm excited to try something new with Ceecee. And if those things don't work, I'll keep looking. There are a lot of options out there. There's bound to be at least one thing she'll take to. If it's out there, I'll find it.”

The sound of a chair screeching makes my ears bleed. Suddenly, I'm lifted out of my chair and off the ground. His arms wrap tightly around me and pull me close. Chest to stomach, I breathe him in. I lightly snake my arms around his toned middle and rub his back. He breathes into my ear, ”You're amazing.”

My light squeeze becomes firm. This should feel awkward, but it doesn't. Not at all. I love the feel of him, the smell of him. Just him. I tell him honestly, ”We'll figure this out. Together.”

He holds me a long moment before he responds a hesitant and quiet, ”Good, 'cause I don't know what the f.u.c.k I'm doing.”

My arms squeeze, offering him comfort and support. I pull away and smile up at him. ”I'm starved.”

His eyes warm. ”Let's eat.”

Helena Growing up with two older sisters was h.e.l.l some days. If we weren't fighting over makeup and clothes, Nat and I were fighting over boys and friends. My parents never stepped in until we were tearing each other's hair out, literally. Nina acted as judge and jury, and Nat acted as executioner. Being the youngest meant I was always blamed for things at home. This was because my parents could never stand to be mad at me.

I was the baby. And cute as h.e.l.l. But even though my sisters got me into trouble, we were a team. I'd take the blame for something one of my sisters did, and then later that night, I'd get three times the dessert in thank you. We sure weren't the Brady Bunch, but we had a lot of fun tearing into each other. We laughed a lot in our house. Although all three of us girls are hot-headed, we got over things quickly and always made time to laugh with each other. We gave affection freely amongst each other, mostly in private.

If you messed with my sisters, you messed with me. I was never afraid to get physical to avenge my sisters in one way or another. I remember one day, Nina, Nat, and I all came home from school late. We were all bleeding from a fist fight after school involving the girlfriend of a football player who kissed Nat over the weekend. The girl was devastated. She was in love. I get it; I do. Nat stayed after school to talk to her about it, to ease the tension. The douche had told Nat he'd broken up with his girlfriend. He knew Nat liked him, so he played her like a violin.

It was only on Monday when Nat got to school and everyone was whispering and giggling behind her back. She knew something was up. Amanda Adelaide Christiansen, head cheerleader and blonde bimbo, was waiting for her by her locker. She greeted Nat with a smirk. When she stepped forward and slapped Nat across the face, Nat didn't flinch.

Come on. Seriously? It was on. Like Donkey Kong.

Nevertheless, Nat still wanted to talk to the girl, but when she showed up and six members of the cheer squad were waiting for her, we knew where it was heading. Nina and I stepped in. Nat followed suit.

We knocked 'em on their a.s.ses.

Of course, we were all suspended but it was totally worth it. We walked home laughing and smiling, bonding over our bruised faces and split lips. As soon as we came home, Mom lost it. She grounded us and we accepted our fate. There was no point in arguing. Later that night, Mom sent Dad in to talk to us. He was p.i.s.sed. We were petrified. My dad never got angry. As in, never. So when he shut the door behind him and searched our faces, we knew we were in deep s.h.i.+t.