Why must all of the men in my life be so hotheaded?
I exited the car without receiving more than a grunt from Callahan, who’d been like an ice sculpture the entire way. He did not show emotions like normal people.
I stomped toward my apartment and immediately spotted the slouching vultures on their smartphones, but no John.
Where is he? He should’ve beat me here.
The moment they saw me, they jumped to their feet and began throwing insults masked as questions. “Did Patricio Ferrari give you an STD? Did he dump you for Adeline Taylor yet? Did he ask you to ménage?”
I rolled my eyes, pushed my key into the lock, and entered my apartment. There sat John, giving me a startle.
“Oh God.” I placed my hand over my heart. “I thought I would find you outside, kicking the crap out of one of those guys.”
John had brown eyes and blond hair—same as me—and was built big like my father, only bigger because he liked to play sports—basketball, swimming, skiing. There wasn’t much he couldn’t manage. He’d even been into rock climbing for a while, which drove my mother absolutely frantic. “What if you fall, John? Huh?”
“Oh no. I might end up in a wheelchair,” he would reply with a smart-ass snort and then receive a smack on the back of the head from my father for being disrespectful.
I threw my keys on the coffee table and took a calming breath, wanting to address John in an even tone. I had zero desire to fight with him, but the angry steam had built up in my mental engine. One more lump of shitty coal and Lily’s head would explode. “Is there a particular reason you left the school in the middle of the day and wouldn’t allow me to hide at your place, my dear sweet brother?”
John wheeled in front of me. He had on his usual khaki pants and a blue golf shirt with the school logo, which allowed me to see the veins pulsing in his neck and biceps. He was pissed. “Is there a particular reason you left your door unlocked when there’s a mob outside trying to stalk you?”
“They weren’t there this morning, and I guess I was distracted.”
“I can guess why. And when I see him, I’m going to hunt that man-cunt down and dismember him.”
Man-cunt? Well, there’s a new one. “Whoa there, John. While I appreciate the enthusiasm you show for protecting me, I need to be clear. This is my life, and I will deal with it.” I crossed my arms over my chest and looked down at my brother and his flaring nostrils.
“You’re a Snow. And Snows stick together,” he snarled.
Dear Lord. On a scale of one to ten, ten being a PMSing mother lion, my family was a twenty with the overprotectiveness. This was the one thing about them I considered both a blessing and a curse—mostly the latter.
“I let you manage your own love life, John. You need to allow me the space to deal with mine.”
“Sorry. Doesn’t work like that. The big-brother handbook dictates I must intervene.”
Gah. What an ass. “Stop. Okay? You don’t see me running around threatening to dismember your exes or calling them woman-dicks.” The opposite of a man-cunt, of course.
He crossed his beefy arms over his chest. “That’s because you’re too busy trying to avoid confrontation by hiding in my apartment.”
Ughhh… “I needed a quiet place to think, and I can’t do it here with those dipshits outsi—” A loud knock on the door broke my concentration. “Dammit. Why can’t they leave me alone?”
“Let me deal with them.” John went to the front door and yanked it open, but it wasn’t the tabloid vultures.
Max. I gasped, but why wasn’t I surprised? He’d unexpectedly shown up three times in the last twenty-four hours.
Blocking the door, John scowled up at Max, who looked even angrier than John. “What the fuck do you want?”
Max peered down at John, and I saw it. That look. It was the same one Max gave me the first time we’d met when I’d interviewed for a sales position at his company. Disgust masked as indifference. Max had treated me so badly that I’d literally stormed after the fleeing prick to tell him a thing or two about why he should never, ever, ever dismiss me. I hadn’t known at the time he suffered from a phobia he’d been determined to conquer, but what did that matter? At this very moment, Max was looking at John’s thin legs with revulsion.
Something inside me snapped like a tightly wound piano string. It was one thing for me to be subjected to Max’s affliction, but like hell would I ever—ever!—let Max hurt my brother.
Okay. Fine. I’m a fifteen on the protective scale.
As I opened my mouth to tell Max he should take a flying fuck out of my life, John leaned forward and punched Max in the dick.
Max doubled over with a loud groan, and John took another swing at his face, sending Max flying back.
“Jesus, John!” What the hell was the matter with the men in my life? They’d all gone completely caveman?
The news crews took no time surrounding Max and snapping pictures or videos.
“You ever hit my sister again, they won’t find the body!” John yelled and slammed the door.
Hit me? What in the world? “John! What the hell is wrong with you?” I yelled.
“You think I don’t know, Lily. I watch TMZ.”
He did? Since when?
I rushed to the door to see if Max was all right, but John blocked me.
“Move!” I yelled.
“Hell no.” He gripped the top of his wheels tightly. I had zero chance of opening that door without fistfighting my big-ass brother. I could only reason with him.
“John, he didn’t hit me.”
“Then what happened to your arm, Lily?” His eyes zeroed right in on the black, blue, and purple mark on my elbow.
“I fell.”
“Bullshit.”
“Come on. Who hits a woman in her elbow?”
John took a moment, likely seeing the light. “Then how did you get that bruise?”
“Max and Patricio were fighting and knocked me over. But no one hit me.” Damn those paparazzi and their constant lies.
John shook his head in disgust.
“Hey! If you want to be mad at anyone, be mad at Patricio for cheating on me.”
“Patricio? The guy who proposed to you at dinner last week?”
I’d brought Patricio to my parents’ house for the first time about a week ago. That was when he’d asked for my hand—a complete shock to everyone. My parents liked him well enough—or perhaps they were a bit starstruck?—but I’d also recognized the slight flicker of disappointment in their eyes. They probably liked Max more. He’d taken care of things—doctors, bills, legal action—after my accident and had been the only person who’d assured them I’d be okay when they were losing their grief-riddled minds. Saying yes to Patricio would be like closing the door on their hopes that Max and I might reconcile someday. Anyway, it was a little awkward being put on the engagement spot like that, but I’d had to do the right thing and tell him the truth: I would think about it. Patricio, being the actor he was, took it like a gentleman.
I gave John a nod. “Patricio fucked some actre—”
The door buzzed, and my eyes went wide. Dammit. It’s probably Max coming to seek revenge or something really unspectacular.
“Move!” I instructed John.
John reluctantly rolled out of the way.
I opened the door and stumbled back, nearly falling on my ass as someone pushed inside my apartment. For a split second, I thought it was Max trying to get at John, but it wasn’t.
“Patricio?” I gasped his name.
He stormed into my living room with Max on his heels, their bickering drowning out the screaming press crammed into my doorway.
John slammed the door shut, and I took a seat at my small dining room table in the corner, now feeling completely exhausted.
On the opposite end of the spectrum were Max and Patricio, who looked like two uncastrated Rottweilers, spittle flying every which way as they screamed with their noses an inch apart.
“I’d be afraid, but I know choo are a pussy!” Patricio snarled back, his accent always becoming thicker when he got excited. “You don’t have the balls for a woman like Lily, and it kills you that I do!”
“That’s the problem. You think having two balls means a woman for each. It takes a real man to love one. Only one!”
“Adeline and I are not fucking!” Patricio made fists with his hands. “I told you this ten minutes ago! Those were old photos. We are only co-workers now.”
Whoa. I popped up from my chair. “Is that where you went, Max? To see Patricio?”
Max looked at me, flustered as hell. “Yes. I had my assistant track him down.”
So Max had ditched me at his hotel room in my moment of need to go and hunt down Patricio, who was likely staying at another hotel down the road. Recently, he’d been staying with me when he came to town, but before we were seriously dating, Patricio had a usual place he liked.
Max continued, “He can’t ruin your life like this. Especially now that you’re—”
“He’s my boyfriend, Max,” I barked. “He cheated on me, and it’s my issue to handle.” Jeez, he was behaving just like John—Mr. Protective.
Patricio threw his arms in the air. “I did not cheat on Lily. Adeline is my costar.”
Is that Patricio’s story? If so, why hadn’t he told me? And why didn’t I buy it?
“Oh really? Let’s call Adeline and ask her!” Max roared.
I didn’t know what to say. The only thing I knew for certain was that Max had crossed the line when he’d given that look to my brother and then went butting in my relationship. As for Patricio, I wasn’t sure if he was a cheating “man-cunt,” but he sure as hell kept the news about his costar a secret and that did not evoke trust.
Patricio and Max went at it again, and I deflated back into my chair, propping my good elbow on the little dining table. John and I watched as these two educated, refined men devolved into WWE, trash-talking gorillas.
John flashed a look my way. “You know they’re both totally in love with you, right?”
“I think they’re in love with themselves,” I said.
“Don’t know about that,” John said, “but I know whipped when I see it. They’ve got it bad for you.”
“Well, too bad.” They didn’t have what it took to be the one. I stood up. “You’re both fired.”
Max and Patricio continued their vicious rants, faces pressed together.
“Did you hear me?” I yelled. “Get out! I won’t marry either of you.”
Max and Patricio shut their mouths and stepped back from each other.
Hands planted at my sides, I gave a nod. “Yep. That’s right, guys. I’m done. Like, super done. Don’t want anything to do with either of you, so congratulations.” Their fight last night, which was clearly being continued right now in my living room, proved that their highest priority was their male egos.
Alpha men should be renamed to “all about me” men.
Panting with rage, Patricio frowned at me. “But what about the baby?”
Huh? “What baby?” I asked.
Patricio, who’d stepped away from Max, pointed at him. “The one he just told me about when he came tearing into my hotel room. How come choo told him and not me? Eh, Lily!”
My eyes shifted to Max. “But why would you—”
“Lily, come on.” Max stepped toward me. “The morning sickness? The nausea? You can’t believe I wouldn’t catch on.”
Jesus. Well, now I know why Max ran off to go find Patricio. He thought I was knocked up when really that awesome acid-reflux fun was a symptom of severe stress, something I had been dealing with since the accident. Also, Patricio and I had only had sex a handful of times given we’d only started dating a few months ago and saw each other when he had filming breaks. When we were together, it was always with a condom, and I was on the pill for non-birth control, flow-related reasons. Add all that up, and the chances of my being pregnant were zero point zero, zero, zero.
I opened my mouth to set them straight, but John elbowed me in the thigh. He gave me a quick look, as if to say “Hold up, sis. Don’t say a word.”
I snapped my mouth shut.
John cleared his throat. “I think it’s time for you two to leave. Lily needs her rest.”
I resisted scoffing. What the hell was John up to?
Max and Patricio exchanged looks.
“Is this really what you want?” Max asked.
“Yep.” I stood and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Fine then. I’m done. If you want to talk, you can find me in Chicago,” Max said. He wasn’t merely mad at Patricio, he was mad at me, too. Was it because he thought I’d been knocked up by Patricio?
Anger flickered in Patricio’s green eyes, but he did his best to smile at me. “I will call you tomorrow.”
“Guys, I don’t care what you do,” John said, “because you both gotta go.”
Max and Patricio snarled at each other and then left. The noise of the tabloid a-holes filled my apartment for a moment and then faded out once the door closed.
The second they were gone, the steam evaporated from my body. I walked over to my couch and plopped down, hugging a pink throw pillow to my chest. My head was spinning and my heart felt like it had gone through an obstacle course. American Ninja-style obstacle course.
John appeared with a glass of water in one hand. “Here. Take this.”
“Thanks.” I took the glass.
“Are you really pregnant?” he asked.
“Not a chance.”
“That will make this easier, then.”
“Easier how?” I asked.
“They’re in love with you, Lily. And you’re in love with them.”
“I’m not.”
“Don’t dick me around. I know you. Better than anyone, and I see the look in your eyes when they’re around.”
Okay. I did love them both, but in entirely different ways. Patricio was like a best friend, and he was handsome and fun. He felt like the man I should want to marry, the safer choice for my heart. I also believed that our love could grow over time and that he would make me happy. My love for Max felt like riding a roller coaster without any restraints or seatbelts. Our passion was intense, consuming, and dangerous. He could suck me in so deeply and quickly, but he could also break me. Regardless…
“I can’t love a cheater, and I can’t love a man who,” I searched for the correct words, “who makes the people I love feel like garbage.”
John understood exactly what I meant. “We both know Max’s heart doesn’t match up with his brain. You can’t blame him for that any more than you can blame me for being in a wheelchair.”
How could John be so compassionate? And so right? Max’s disorder wasn’t who he was. It was an involuntary behavior.
He continued, “And Patricio seemed very adamant that he’s a victim of that tabloid bullcrap. I think you’d understand something like that.”
I sneered at John, who was once again completely right. “So what are you saying?”
“I think you should let them show you what they’re really made of while you figure out which is the right one.”
“And?” I asked.
“And let them believe you’re pregnant.”
“I can’t do that.” We weren’t on some stupid sitcom. I was a grown woman who owned and ran a business that would be in serious trouble if I didn’t find a way to pick up sales. “I don’t have time for games.”
“Lily, let’s be honest. Neither of us have had it easy. And given who you are and what you’ve been through, you deserve a man who will make you happy. I can’t think of a better way to flush out their intentions than a baby.”
True. Maybe. I didn’t know. “That is so, so wrong.”
“Is it?” he asked with a sly smile.
“Uhh…yeah. And it coul
d have the opposite effect. Some men marry their pregnant girlfriends out of guilt.”
“Or they run for the hills, which is something you’d want to know now. You are planning to have kids, right?”
I shrugged. “Eventually.”
“Then the only thing you’re doing is preventing a disaster. Let them believe the lie and let them prove to you that they’re the right guy. Better to know now before there’s an actual baby.”
Fuck. This was so deceitful. Then again, Max always accused me of lacking the backbone to go after what I really wanted, even if it called for some ugly decisions. Also, in the case of Max, part of my reluctance to be with him had to do with the question surrounding what sort of father he might be. Still…
“I can’t,” I replied. “It’s cruel to play around with people’s emotions that way. I’m going to tell them tomorrow.”
“I think you’re making a mistake. Because you can’t tell me, without a doubt, that either of these guys really deserves you, Lily.” John reached out and grabbed my hand.
“Thank you, John. You’re a real turd, but I love you anyway.”
“You’re a woman-dick, and I love you more.”
I laughed. “I know you do, which is why I need you to back off. And to stop punching my ex-boyfriends in their penises.”
John wheeled to the door. “Never. Call me later.”
I watched him leave. Thankfully the paparazzi had followed Max and Patricio, who had probably kept up their bickering and given them a nice show. All was quiet on my doorstep again. For now. But something told me my life was going to get fuglier before it got better. I still had a failing business to deal with and a mess of a love life, the worst part being that I didn’t really know where to go from here. A first for me.
Hey. At least I’m not pregnant.
Saturday morning, I awoke in my full-sized bed with a delicious stretch and yawn. A good night’s sleep really made a world of difference. So had a big salad and heaping bowl of spaghetti for dinner last night.
“Good morning, honey,” said a deep voice.
Huh? I whipped my head to my right and found Max tucked into bed beside me. “What the hell are you doing here?”
It's a Fugly Life Page 6
