Part 26 (1/2)

His what now?

It's too much. I forfeit. ”Whoa, whoa, whoa. No one said anything about family dinners, Max! What the h.e.l.l? How does your mother know about me? What did you tell her?”

A slow grin spreads across his face. ”You're freakin' out.”

I sputter indignantly, ”What? No. No, I'm not. I'm just curious as to why your mother is asking me to dinner when we barely just saw each other naked, and sorry, but I don't know why you need a toothbrush here, 'cause we said we were just going to be having s.e.x, you know? s.e.x and friends.h.i.+p sounded fun, but not when it comes with a blue toothbrush in my bathroom! And-and-and I think I need a paper bag.” I pant, breathless. ”Give me a paper bag!”

The stupid man just laughs. ”You're a trip.” As I continue to hyperventilate, he utters, ”Mom called this morning to see if I wanted to do breakfast there, but I told her I couldn't, because Ceecee and I were doing breakfast with you. She asked about you. I told her we were seeing each other. I told her that it was sudden, but it was happening. She got excited 'cause she's my moms.” He leans over, taking my chin between his fingers. ”I haven't dated in a really long time. I told you I wouldn't keep you a secret, cupcake. I don't regret what happened last night. Sure, it didn't go exactly as planned, but it was still amazing, because it was with you. And I want more of you.”

Wow. Talk about putting it out there. That was awesome. I'm totally okay with that.

Heat blooms in my middle. I suddenly want to rip off his sweats.

His face falls. ”Unless...I mean, unless you're having second thoughts.” He holds up his hands and blurts out, ”Which it's okay if you are. I don't want to pressure you or anything.” He nods as if rea.s.suring himself. ”If you don't want to do this, just say so and I'll back off.”

I smile, because we both know that's a lie. Max doesn't know how to back off. Shaking my head, I admit, ”This is happening so fast. I panicked, but I'm okay now.” Lifting my head, I look him in the eye. ”I want to do this.”

He throws himself face down on the bed. I hear a m.u.f.fled, ”Thank f.u.c.k for that,” and I chuckle, running a hand through the back of his hair in consolation.

Standing, he checks his cell phone. ”Okay. You're good, I'm good, and we're good. Let's go get Ceecee.”

I look up at him in confusion. ”You said ten am.”

He looks like he wants to laugh. Much to his credit, he doesn't. ”It's ten-thirty, babe.”

My eyes widen. Jumping up, I rush to the bathroom. As soon as I look in the mirror, I'm surprised it doesn't explode from the offence my appearance is causing. My hair is knotted, my face is a mess from last night's makeup, and the tank I threw on sometime during the night reads 's.e.xy Beast'.

I groan knowing Max has officially seen me at my worst. ”Oh my G.o.d, Max, you have to give a woman sufficient time to get ready for things. Breakfast takes a good half-hour to get ready for. Dinner takes a decent hour and a half. Now you're here and waiting, the pressure's on! You can't do that to a woman!”

His tall, muscular frame blocks the bathroom door. ”Sure I can.” At my murderous glare, he puts his hands in the air and retreats, ”Okay, okay. Take your time. We're not in a hurry. I'll be watching TV.”

It takes me thirty-five minutes to scrub my face free of makeup, brush my teeth, wash and dry my hair, change my sheets, apply light makeup and gloss, and change into my favorite faded and ripped jeans, a white tee, my flip-flops, and a pair of Ray-Ban aviators.

As I walk into the kitchen, I grab my cell from its charger and call out to Max. ”Let's go, bonehead.”

He switches off the TV and walks behind me to the front door. As I move to open the door, I'm pulled back with a swift yank. One arm moves around my waist, holding me prisoner, while the other palms my a.s.s. He utters roughly, ”Looking good, Lena. I like you in jeans.”

Mouth suddenly dry, I prepare to snap back a sa.s.sy retort, but all that comes out is a breathy, ”Oooooohh.”

He turns me, trapping me between the front door and him. His golden eyes hood and my nipples bead involuntarily. Leaning down, he brings his face down to mine. Dear G.o.d, he smells like the tears of a unicorn. His lips barely touching mine, he utters, ”You look beautiful”, and then he smacks a light kiss to my lips. Standing tall, he takes my small hand in his, coc.o.o.ning it. ”C'mon, I'm hungry.”

I barely have time to shut the door behind us as I'm dragged down to his truck.

Max I smile to myself as I drive hand-in-hand with Helena.

Oh man.

She is going to kill me.

Helena I hum along with the radio, smiling to myself. I discreetly look down at our entwined hands resting on the center console. It's been a long time since I've just held hands with a man. And it feels nice. A little too nice. Nicer than I remember it. Or maybe that's just because it's with Max.

We pull up to a nice big house in the suburbs. Max turns off the car and turns to me. ”Come inside with me.”

Umm... no.

I smile and suggest, ”Shouldn't I just wait here while you get Ceecee? We'll be late for breakfast.”

He shrugs. ”So we'll catch lunch. C'mon, cupcake. My mom will be upset if you don't come in.”

My smile falls. ”Yeah, I guess she would be.” But I don't move to exit the car.

He stares me down. ”Were you born in a barn?”

I try hard not to laugh at that. Instead, I cross my arms over my chest and return, ”Jesus was born in a barn.”

Max makes a pffft noise. ”Look at where it got him.” At that, I laugh. He pleads, ”Just a minute, that's all. Please?”

Who could refuse a begging Max? I sigh exaggeratedly long. ”Okay, okay. One minute. That's all.”

He opens the pa.s.senger door for me, takes my hand, and walks me down the drive to the front door. He opens it without knocking and I hear the sounds of multiple women chattering in the kitchen. I suddenly want to disappear.

I try to dig my flip-flop-covered heels into the floorboards, but Max drags me along, completely oblivious. As soon as we come into view, a pretty, short, mature woman rushes over to us. She chatters away in a language that sounds to be Spanish. Reaching up, she takes Max's cheeks in her hands and pulls him down to her. She kisses his cheeks and forehead while still talking in rapid speeds, and then pats his cheek adoringly.

And Max just stands there, no fight in him. It's the sweetest thing I have ever seen. Then she looks over at me. She gasps, placing a hand to her heart. She looks back at Max and tells him, ”She is beautiful.”

My cheeks heat.

He adds, ”I know. I told you so. Gorgeous.”

My cheeks flame.

Taking a step towards me, the woman reaches out and takes my hand in hers. ”h.e.l.lo, Helena. I am Cecilia. I have seen you before, but never so close. You are a beautiful woman, and my son is a lucky man.” She speaks with a slight accent and I warm to her immediately.

Smiling, I squeeze her hand and respond, ”Thank you, but he's not as lucky as I am.”

I know Max must think I'm saying this for show, but I'm not, and I see the pride s.h.i.+ne in her eyes. With that short sentence, I've won her heart. She stands taller and nods. ”Come. Let's eat.”

Eat? What?

I look over at Max and he mouths, ”Sorry,” not looking at all apologetic.

My blood boils. I've been had.

He takes a step toward me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. He whispers into my ear, ”I'm sorry. I knew you'd panic, so I didn't tell you. It's just us and my sisters. Relax.”

Just as I open my mouth to hurl whispered-abuse at the man-child, Ceecee appears in the hall. Face of stone, she approaches. ”So, is it true? Are you dating?”

t.u.r.ds of fury, she doesn't look happy. I shrug lightly. ”Yes, honey, we are.”