Sugar Rush (Friend-Zoned #3)(92)
Author: Belle Aurora

When I finally got home and Asher was waiting for me, he asked if I wanted him to make Max a permanent soprano. With a smile, I told him no, but kissed his cheek and thanked him for the offer. I asked him not to tell Nat what happened, that I’d tell her when I was ready. He wrapped an arm around me and I walked him to the door.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but also wanted to keep quiet. After a moment, he blurted out, “Men fuck up. And we do it a lot. Thank God we got women who love us; otherwise, we’d be lonely sacks of shit.” He rolled his eyes and grunted, “I don’t think Max is good enough for you, but that’s not because Max isn’t a good guy. Max is one of the best guys I know. The reason I don’t think he’s good enough for you is the same reason I don’t think I’m good enough for Nat. It’s because you deserve better than the best. I know it’s your choice who you date, but chances are I won’t like any of ‘em. And I’ll like ‘em a whole lot less than I like Max.” Without waiting for a response, he kissed my forehead and went home.

I smile at the concern in Nat’s voice. “I’m fine. I think I’m just missing home.”

She hesitates. “You’re not thinking of leaving, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” I answer, even though I was earlier in the day. I thought about it, but it was a silly thought. “As long as the work is good, this is the place for me.”

She lets out a humorless laugh. “Thank God. I love having you here. If you went home, I’d be shattered.”

Wow. Nat never puts herself out there. I’m touched. I smile. “I wouldn’t leave you. Who would keep you out of trouble?”

She laughs then. “You’re almost as much trouble as I am.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

A knock at my door sounds and I roll my eyes at her need to take this argument face-to-face. “Am not times a hundred.”

I walk over to the door as she says smartly, “Are too times infinity.”

Shit. What beats infinity?

Unlatching the door, I pull it open and grin. “Am not!”

But it’s not Nat. It’s Max.

My heart races.

He looks almost as bad as I feel. Nat calls out, “So I’m guessing by your silence that I’ve won this round.”

I shake my head and speak into the cell, “Sorry, I gotta go. Max is here.”

She purrs into the phone. “Ah, I get ya.” Then sings, “Let me lick you up and down ‘til you say stop.”

I fight my hysterical laugh and mumble, “Yeah, like I said, I gotta go.”

But she ignores me, singing louder, “Let me play with your body, baby, make you real hot.”

I hang up and swallow hard. “Hi.”

Max opens his mouth to speak, but Nat is not to be ignored. She shouts through the wall, “Let me do all the things you want me to do.” I cover my mouth with a hand, flushing as she finishes her solo. “’Cause tonight, baby, I wanna get freaky with you.” A moment later, she yells a huffy, “You shut up, ASSer!”

My face beet red, I bite the insides of my cheeks to stop myself from smiling, and look up at Max to ask quietly, “What are you doing here?”

He looks down at his feet and crosses his arms over his chest in a most defensive posture. “Can I come in?” He looks up at me then, asking gently, “Please?”

I push open the door and step aside as he enters, looking awkward and out of place. I close the door behind us and walk into the kitchen. Just because he yelled at me, blaming me for what happened this morning, doesn’t mean I can’t be polite. “Something to drink?” He shakes his head. I open the fridge. He’s always hungry. “Something to eat?’

He sighs, his brow pinched. “No. Thanks.”

I’m probably just delaying the inevitable, but it’s somewhat of a defense mechanism. “Are you sure?” I ask as I move to close the fridge, and he loses whatever patience he has.

“Jesus, stop. Please. I just want to talk to you!”

Here it comes. The official break-up. Avoiding his eyes, I walk over to the sofa and sit. I play with my fingers, still not willing to look up into those gorgeous golden eyes. I feel the cushion depress, and his leg presses against mine. “Helena, look at me.”

I do. Only because if I don’t, I won’t believe this actually happened, and I don’t want to live in denial. He reaches over and takes my hand. I fight an eye roll. Oh, great, he’s holding my hand. Never a good sign. Just do it already. Put me out of my misery.

“Ceecee told me what happened. I know you didn’t have anything to do with Maddy showing up.” Vindicated. Well, at least that’s something. He adds, “I said some things to you in the heat of the moment. Things I didn’t mean, and I need to apologize for them.”

If I look him in the eye while he apologizes, I’ll cry. I dip my chin. His fingers grip my chin, lifting ‘til we’re eye-to-eye. He searches my face a long moment before he utters sincerely, “I’m sorry, cupcake.” His voice turns rough. “I am so sorry.”

My eyes fill with tears, but I refuse to let them fall. Instead, I whisper, “It’s okay.”

His eyes blaze. “It’s not okay. If anyone else spoke to you the way I did, I would fuckin’ murder them.”

My eyes close of their own accord. I repeat, “It’s okay. I forgive you. I know you were put in a stressful situation. Not only was your daughter hurt in the fray, but you thought I betrayed you after you told me Ceecee’s mom was a sore spot.” I stress the conviction by steadying my voice. “I get it. I do.” I open my eyes and take in a shaky breath. “But I never would. Betray you, that is.”

His face turns pained. “I know you wouldn’t, baby.”

Well. That’s that. I stand and head to my room. Taking out what I’d prepared when I got home earlier, I bring it out and hand him his overnight bag. He looks at it in confusion before he stands, towering over me, eyes blazing. He takes the bag from my fingers and throws it aside. It hits the ground with a dull thud. His eyes wide, he places his hands gently at the base of my neck, gets in my face, and states, “I’m not letting you break up with me. So you can go ahead and put that back in your closet.”

A record screeches somewhere in my mind. What? Me break up with him?

Before I can get a word in, his eyes plead. “Baby, please, forgive me. I swear to you I didn’t mean what I said. I said those things, because I was hurting. You were never a mistake. You’re the best thing to come into my life since Ceecee. And I know you’re not her mom, but,” he speaks so softly, I wonder if I imagine it, “you’re the closest thing she’s got right now. She loves you.” He hesitates before admitting on a small voice, “I love you.”