Part 20 (1/2)

His laughter is loud and so happy-sounding that my moment of regret is replaced by tummy flutters and a small smile. He walks away, leaving me in the hall. Just before he enters his room, he looks back at me, smiling, and drops the towel a second before he walks through the door, giving me a heart attack, as well as a nice view of his taut b.u.t.t.

The door closes and I can only think of one thing.

Dat a.s.s.

Chapter Twenty.

Helena I was told to make myself at home, so that's exactly what I do. h.e.l.l, if it were Max being told to do it, he'd do it. I'm just returning the favor. When I step into the kitchen, I look through cupboards until I find the gla.s.ses, take one out, and then open the fridge. I hear footsteps come into the kitchen and I ask, ”Don't you have anything to drink in this place?”

I look up from the fridge door to find Max standing there in black sweats, a navy skintight tank, and white sneakers. I look down at myself then back up at him. I ask through a laugh, ”Did you color coordinate yourself to look like me?”

He shrugs, a smile playing at his lips. ”I thought we could play 'who wore it better?'”

Not thinking at that moment, I respond immediately, ”You. Definitely you.” Closing my eyes, I slap a hand across my mouth and giggle nervously. ”Oh s.h.i.+t. That was stupid.”

Max comes up behind me, leaning over me to view that sad state of his fridge. His body molds to mine, his front pressing into my back. As my minds squeals then faints dead away, he murmurs as he pulls away, ”This is worse than I thought. Come on. Let's go to the grocery store.”

I shake my head. ”No, I just came to talk. Nat's waiting at Tina's for me.”

His eyes narrow as he shrugs. ”So? Tell her I'll take you home.”

I sigh through my response, ”That's not an option.”

He pokes me in the rib. ”Why?”

I have no idea. My brain has farted so hard it might've p.o.o.ped a little. ”I...uh-she's waiting for me, is why. She's across the street, waiting for me. She's waiting so I-um...can't do that right now.” I think I should get an award for getting through that sounding only half-special.

His eyes on me, he lifts his cell to his ear and waits. ”Yo.” He smirks at something the person on the other end has said. ”No, I haven't killed her. Yet.” He rolls his eyes. ”Or seduced her.” He looks at me and winks. ”Yet.” He pauses to listen, then speaks into the receiver, ”We're going grocery shopping. I'll bring her home later. You need anything?”

The little s.h.i.+t. My face heats and I hiss, ”Will you stop doing that?”

Placing a hand over the cell, he asks a confused, ”Doing what?”

My mouth gapes. I near-shriek, ”Making me do what I don't want to!”

He doesn't answer me, just shakes his head as he speaks into the phone. ”Okay, babe. No problem. And you tell that husband of yours he better watch his back. The second he f.u.c.ks up, I'm all over you like stink on s.h.i.+t.”

My eyes narrow.

Of course he flirts with my sister. Of course he does. He doesn't flirt with me, but he flirts with her.

He takes in my murderous glare then grins, ”Okay, I have to go before your sister cuts my b.a.l.l.s off. Love you.”

He places his cell in his pocket and smiles. ”See? No problem.” Before I can get a word in, he calls out, ”Yo, baby girl. Let's go.”

She calls back, ”Where are we going?”

”Grocery shopping.”

It takes a moment before Ceecee comes out of her room and into the kitchen. She mutters, ”Thank G.o.d, I'm starving.” She looks up at me and asks hesitantly, ”Are you coming?”

I don't get to answer. I don't get to answer, because Max throws his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. ”Of course she's coming. We need to feed her too.”

And for the first time since I've been in New York, Ceecee smiles. ”Cool.” Sure, she smiles down at her hands, but it's still something.

I may not have wanted to be here before, but at that small response, I want to be here now. I smile down at her. ”Let's see if we can get some chunky monkey while we're down there too.”

Ceecee looks up at me in awe, eyes wide. ”I love chunky monkey.”

I'm so shocked at this change of behavior that I balk. I recover quickly with, ”I think we just became best friends.”

Her smile is so wide, so beautiful, that I want to cry. I'm getting through to her.

And somehow, Max knew I would.

Max Nuh uh. I don't like this. Not one bit.

Why does she have to be so d.a.m.n beautiful? I'm having a hard time controlling myself around her. When I saw her bent over in front of the fridge, I couldn't stop myself. I had to feel her body against mine. So I did what I did. Worse decision I've ever made in my life. As soon as my front pressed into her back, images of Helena moaning and gasping as I hold her long brown hair in my fisted palm and drive into her a.s.saulted me. Of course I started to get hard. I had to back away.

I want her. What's worse is she's not here for me. She's here for Ceecee. So I'll do what I've been doing for years, doing what I do best.

I'll hold back.

Helena Ceecee and I walk out the front door to the fancy black SUV parked out front. The car flashes its lights then chirps, letting us know it's unlocked. Ceecee wheels ahead. My brows narrow as she wheels to the side of the vehicle and opens the sliding door. She presses a b.u.t.ton on the inside, and a ramp is lowered.

I can't help myself. ”Holy c.r.a.p, this is awesome!”

Max opens the front door and slides into the driver's seat. ”Yeah, we like it.”

This is the coolest, most sporty looking wheelchair-accessible vehicle I've ever seen. ”What is this?”

As Ceecee makes her way up the ramp and secures herself, Max explains, ”It's called an MV-1.”

I shake my head. ”Never heard of it.”

He nods. ”It's only been out a month or so. Thankfully, I signed up early and we got one of the first sixty made. The manufacturer is here in New York, so that probably made it easier. That, and the fact I was willing to pay in cash.”

Looking around the vehicle, I whisper, ”I love it.” Then I say out loud, ”I am so glad you're not one of those tools who owns a fast car.”

Max stiffens, and then stutters, ”W-why?”

I shrug. ”I don't know. I just don't like 'em. They're stupid, and so unnecessary.”

Ceecee giggles from the backseat. ”Daddy has a Jag.”