I slept like crap all night—proving my point again. All men should burn in hell. I switched between nightmares of Colton’s rejection and dreams of Max riding in to rescue me on a giant-ass aloe vera plant.
Groaning, I tossed and turned, finally falling into a deep sleep around two a.m.
“Fire!” A voice penetrated my dreams. “Fire! Wake up!”
I jolted out of my bed to see Max sitting calmly at the end. He had two Starbucks cups in hand and was sporting a pair of black skinny jeans, a blue V-neck T-shirt, and a smile that looked like it belonged on the cover of GQ.
“Hey, you’re awake.” His grin widened.
“Yeah, weird, I thought there was a fire.”
He handed me the coffee. “There is. In your pants.”
“Pardon?”
“Because you’re a liar.” He patted my leg and shook his head. “Do I even want to know how this happened? Or was it the usual?”
“Usual?” My voice was gravelly, I took a large sip of coffee—it did wonders for my mood.
“Yeah, the usual Milo freak-out where you speak before you think. Typically involves lots of cursing, yelling, sometimes a fight breaks out, and I always end up having to fix it.”
My face burned.
Max nodded. “The usual, then. Gotcha.”
“Why are you here? What time is it?”
“Five a.m.,” he answered. “Your mom’s a fox, by the way, I swear she checked my ass out twice as I walked up the stairs.”
“She did not.”
“Your dad did the same. Ten bucks says your mom asks where I got my jeans and buys him a pair—oh, and by the way, you owe me big. I finally asked out the Starbucks girl and had to cancel our date on account that my other girlfriend”—his eyes narrowed—“had an emergency.”
I winced. “Please tell me you didn’t explain it that way to her.”
“Course not. I said my asthmatic little sister had an attack and almost died screaming my name . . .”
“You don’t have a sister.”
“Little Maddie’s screams were so loud, all she wanted was her big brother Max.”
“Who’s Maddie?”
“And I can’t deny her the one thing she wants in life, the one thing that makes her go on living.” Max wiped a fake tear. “I’m a broken man, Milo, and sisters are more important than dates.”
“I’m sure she was understanding.”
Max grinned. “You could say that.”
“Gross.”
“What?” He held up his hands. “I’m a guy. Just because you labeled me your gay friend freshman year does not actually make it true.”
Okay, so I was a sheltered kid. Sue me! When I first laid eyes on Max I’d nearly swallowed my tongue. He was gorgeous and dressed like a rock star. Though he’d tried on at least four different occasions early on in our friendship to sleep with me, the rejection didn’t keep him from wanting to stay close. Each time I rejected him, it was because I was holding a Colton-size flame. Finally he gave up, and said if he couldn’t get in my pants he might as well help others do so. It wasn’t poetic, but then, that’s Max for you—blunt, to the point, inappropriate, and kind of awesome. Because of his strong metrosexual tendencies, I finally learned the art of waxing and was always invited to the best parties. Our friendship was mutually beneficial because girls saw him as loyal, when really he was loyal to only two females, his dog Homeslice and me. And when it came to dating he helped scare all the sketchy guys away.
“So . . .” Max set his coffee on the nightstand and pulled me into his arms; we lay down on the bed together. “What happened?”
I groaned.
“Milo . . .”
“He kissed me.”
Max held up his hand for a high five. I pushed it down. “What? We aren’t excited about this?”
“No, we aren’t.”
“Continue.”
“He said if he could take it back he would.”
“Son of a streetwalker . . .” He winced. “Out loud? After he kissed you, he said that?”
I nodded.
“Did you kick him in the nuts?”
I shook my head.
“Grab his balls and give a little tug?”
I shook my head again.
“Damn, my little friend. That blows. So where do I come in?”
“Well.” I rubbed Max’s arm. “I cried.”
“Shit.”
“And I didn’t want him to think I was crying over him, I mean that’s a waste of tears, right?”
Max kissed my temple. “Right.”
“So I said I was crying because I’d never cheated on anyone and then I said you and I were dating and yeah . . .”
“Not the most brilliant lie you’ve ever come up with,” Max said after a few minutes of silence.
“I blame the dehydration from the three-hour Ping-Pong tournament.”
“Badass, tell me you won.”
“Off night,” I grumbled.
“Aw, baby.” Max laughed and pulled me to a sitting position. “Don’t worry, I’ll help. Plus, I actually look like competition so it should be easy.”
“No offense, Max.” I patted his leg. “But you’re just—”
“What?”
“I mean, I don’t see you like that, so—”
Max threw his head back and laughed. “I’m a guy. I don’t care how you see me now, the way you see me over the next three days is going to change. I don’t turn it on around you—mainly because I don’t give a shit what you think.”
I laid my hand over my heart and heaved a dramatic sigh. “Such a sweetheart.”
“Shut it.” He picked up his coffee and tapped it against mine. “Jealousy is the easiest way to get someone to admit feelings. Believe me, by the end of this weekend he’s going to be begging for another kiss.”
“And if he doesn’t?” I slumped and took a huge swig of coffee like it had whis in it.
Max tilted my chin toward him. “Then he’s an asshole who doesn’t deserve you in the first place.”
“Truth?” My voice wavered.
“Truth.” He smiled that same blinding smile that I’m sure had made the Starbucks lady start stripping. His wide mouth and deep dimples were enough to make anyone stare. Maybe it would work—it had to work. Because if it didn’t, well, that just meant I was one of those girls, the desperate kind, who had no idea when to quit.
“Okay.”
“Now.” Max stood. “Let’s get you dressed and ready for breakfast. We’ve got a man to trap.”
I laughed. And he wonders why I pegged him as uninterested when we first met?
CHAPTER SIX
MILO
“Remember what I said,” Max coached as we walked down the stairs holding hands. “If I kiss you, you can’t push me away . . . and don’t do the laugh.”
“The laugh?” I squeezed his hand harder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“When you get super nervous and awkward you giggle like a toddler. It’s cute as hell, but he knows you really well—he’ll see right through it. Besides, it kind of hurts a guy’s feelings when a girl giggles after he has his tongue down her throat.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re so romantic, Max.”
“So, we clear on the whole laughing thing?”
“Yeah,” I grumbled. “Clear as—”
Max’s mouth covered mine in an instant. I fought the urge to push him away. It had to be for a reason, right? Like Colton was around the corner, and—
Holy mother of sin. What was he doing with his tongue?
Max stepped back, his full lips curved into a smile. “That’ll do, pig, that’ll do.”
“Please tell me you’re movie quoting and not calling me fat.”
“The only fat you have on your body is that of your inflated head whenever you play competitive sports.”
“Nice.”
“Good kiss.” Max squeezed my hand.
“Wait!” I turned around, then smacked him
on the shoulder. “What was that for?”
“I had to test you before the real thing.”
“That was a test?”
“Yup.” He dragged me toward the kitchen.
I dug my heels in the carpeting. “Well, did I pass?”
Max turned around, his steel-gray eyes looking me up and down. “I may have to do another test run.”
My mouth dropped open as my best friend turned into the player every single girl on campus wrote home about. My heart started racing as every inch of my skin tingled from the expression on Max’s face. Even the way he walked made me want to actually kiss him again.
He strutted into the kitchen, pulling me against his body as he did so, and then kissed me again.
Right in front of Colton and Jason.
With a grunt he pushed me up against the same fridge I’d nearly cried into last night and then released me. “You taste sweet,” he murmured, his lips meeting mine again.
“And . . . appetite gone.” Jason swore. “Mind introducing us to your—” He shook his head. “Friend?”
Max turned around, his eyes sizing up both my brother and Colton, who had fallen completely silent during the exchange.
Too bad I’d never really gotten into Instagram—the picture of the three of them glaring at one another was enough to go viral in seconds.
I’d never noticed how tall Max was. Same height as Jason, about an inch shorter than Colton.
“Boyfriend.” Max held out his hand. “And you must be . . . Jason?”
“Right.” Jason held out his hand.
Max angled a perplexed stare at Colton as though struggling to figure something out. I had to hide my laugh. He knew exactly who Colton was. “And . . . Carlton?”
“Colton,” he said through clenched teeth. “So glad you could make it.”
“Well,” Max pulled me to his side. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I abandoned the love of my life during her time of need?” He squeezed my shoulder, while I pinched his side.
With a wince he released me. “So what’s on the agenda today?”
“Oh, thank God you’re up!” Mom came shuffling into the kitchen looking like she hadn’t slept in weeks.
With a flourish she dropped the giant binder back onto the table and started pointing at things.
“Jason, I need you to start setting up the tables in the backyard. Colton, get the chairs. Max, I put you with Milo on the centerpieces for the reception. The tents have heaters but they haven’t been delivered yet, and we’ll be using the same tent for both the ceremony and the reception so you’ll need to break everything down tonight and help the coordinators set everything up tomorrow morning. The bachelor party will be directly after the rehearsal and the bachelorette party is being held off-site at an undisclosed location. I’ve packed the fridge with water bottles and purchased two boxes of protein bars. If for any reason you start to feel light-headed, sit down on the grass and keep working. Any questions?”
I raised my hand.
“Milo?”
“Where’s the bride?”
“Jayne?” Mom nodded. “She’s getting ready for this evening. Besides, I told her it was her weekend and her parents agreed. The bride shouldn’t have to lift a finger. They pay, we set everything up.”
“I knew a Jayne once,” Max said wistfully.
I elbowed him in the ribs.
“Any more questions?”
Jason raised his hand.
“Yes.” Mom sounded annoyed.
“What’s Dad doing?”
“Dad,” my dad said upon entering the kitchen, “is going to a bar.”
“Dibs!” all three guys yelled at the same time.
Insert facepalm here.
“He’s kidding.” Mom threw him an irritated glance. “He’s helping set up the tent.” She cleared her throat. “Now, any more questions?”
Max raised his hand even though I tried like the fires of hell to keep it firmly planted at his side.
“Max?”
“Well, it’s not really a question, more of a compliment.”
“Oh?”
“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are when you give orders? Reminds me a lot of Milo. I can see where she gets what I like to call her terror-inflicting skills.”
I groaned into my hands while Mom and Dad laughed.
“You know it’s true, baby.” Max wrapped his arm around me. “Come on, you made a professor cry last semester.”
“That’s enough.” I laughed dryly.
Colton snorted. “You made a professor cry?”
“To be fair he was an adjunct professor and he had a very . . . tender heart,” I muttered. I was going to kill Max. Kill him!
“Makes a guy proud.” Max nodded. “At any rate, I’m here to help as much as I can.”
Mom beamed.
Dad grunted.
And Colton looked like he was ready to shoot fire out of his mouth and singe Max where he stood.
“So . . .” Mom closed the book with a resounding slam that echoed around the kitchen. “Eat some cereal, take some protein bars, and . . .” She checked her watch. “The event planners should be here any minute! Places, everyone! Oops, maybe you guys can eat and walk at the same time?”
“It’s like we’re in a musical,” Max whispered under his breath.
I opened my mouth.
He slammed his hand over it. “Break out in song, and I’m going to make you wish I really had gotten you an aloe vera plant.”
“Something wrong?” Colton approached us, hands stuffed in his pockets, jaw clenched.
I bit Max’s hand.
With a yelp he pulled back.
“Nope!” I beamed just as Max said, “She likes biting me.”
Holy hell.
Colton’s nostrils flared before he chuckled and looked away. “I see what’s happening here.”
“You do?” Max and I said in unison.
“Yup.” Colton started laughing so hard he had to grip the tabletop. “Milo, why didn’t you just say something?”
“Say something?” I was seriously lost. Was he high?
“Yeah, Milo.”
Max turned on me and mouthed, “What the hell?”
“You’re lying about something.” Colton’s eyes narrowed in amusement. “You always flush when you lie, Milo, and you keep scratching your face. It’s a nervous tic thing. What’s going on here?”
“Nothing,” Max and I said in unison.
Jason came up behind Colton. “You done interrogating my sister’s boyfriend?”
“Uh, yeah.” Colton stepped back, but not before pointing at Max, then me, and saying, “I’m watching you.” Aw, awesome, we were both just given the De Niro.
Once the two of them left the room we exhaled in relief.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Max gave me a tender shove. “We were fine until you started stepping on my foot and elbowing me!”
“You were hitting on my mom!”
“She’s a beautiful lady!” he argued.
“Oh, my gosh.” I fell into one of the chairs and moaned. “This is a catastrophe.”
“Not true.” Max shook his head. “You just have to be more believable. I mean, would it kill you to find me screw-worthy?”
“Screw-worthy? What does that even mean?”
“That’s it.” Max grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Uh . . .” I pointed.
With a jerk he had me in the bathroom under the stairs and closed the door. Words and sounds were coming out of his mouth but I couldn’t make anything out. Max pushed me against the door and pointed his finger in my face. “I’m going to kiss you, damn it, and you’re going to like it. And I’m going to take off my shirt and you’re going to manhandle me, and you’re going to stop being so damn nervous or so help me God I’m going to bend you over that sofa in the living room and spank your sexy ass.”
Shocked, I was paralyzed in place. “Where d
id that come from?”
“Inside.” Max looked at me and smirked. “I have lots of feelings and I’m sick and tired of you looking at me like I don’t have a penis. I may be used to your innocence, but for my own pride, at least try to be attracted to me. Now close your damn eyes.”
“Stop cursing at me.”
“Stop being difficult! I’m trying to help you. And stop squirming. Shit, take a Xanax or something.”
“Max.” I closed my eyes and huffed. “This isn’t going to—”
My hand was on something hard.
I blinked my eyes open.
Since when did he have a six-pack?
I tilted my head, you know, to get a better look. His skin was really smooth but bumpy, each muscle defined so much that there was enough of a ridge for my hands to play with.
“Oh, look, he’s a man after all,” Max said, sounding bored. “I’m not your sexless friend. I’m not your damn brother. I’m not your gay friend. And I sure as hell am not thinking about anything right now except that your hands feel really good against my skin. So I’m going to kiss you, and you’re going to respond like the idea of my mouth on yours doesn’t make you want to cry—and you’ll like it.”
“I’ll like it,” I repeated.
“There’s my girl.” His eyes flashed, and then he was kissing me again, only this time his body was on fire as it pressed against me. I felt every ridge of his abs; the length of his body was beyond devastating.
Slowly I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled him closer.
CHAPTER SEVEN
COLTON
“I don’t like him,” I said for the tenth time while Jason and I set up the tables.
“Dude!” Jason rolled his eyes. “Why does it matter? She’s like a sister to you. We’ll protect her if he goes all ape-shit.”
“Right.” Because that’s exactly what I was worried about. Her virtue. That was why I’d spent the better part of the night reliving that kiss and woken up so sexually frustrated that I threw my pillows across the room.
Because I was being protective.
Hilarious as hell.
Little sister. Little sister. It was a no-poaching zone. And once you went in for the hunt, you either didn’t make it out alive or you wished you had gotten mauled.
We would never work.