Sugar Rush

by Belle Aurora

  Standing a foot away from the table, my body slumps in restlessness. “Why are you doing this?”

  Without skipping a beat, he walks around the breakfast bar with two glasses of soda, and answers, “Because I like you, and I want you to like me too.”

  That statement does something to me. My stomach clenches. Heat blooms in my middle.

  If you only knew how much I liked you…

  “I do like you,” I answer weakly and unconvincingly.

  He stills mid-step and grins. “No. You don’t,” he throws me a wink, “but I’m working on that.”

  Oh man, you aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed, are you, Max?

  He pulls my chair out and motions for me to sit. I hesitate a moment before allowing his assistance. He gently pushes my chair in like a gentleman, then sits himself down opposite me. I look down at my heaped plate, and then look up at him. He shoots me a panty-dropping smile and a sudden thought rushes through my mind:

  I could get used to looking up at that smile.

  He works on cutting a piece of steak, and by how quickly he does it, I know it’s butter soft. He lifts his fork to his mouth, but holds it mid-air. “Why don’t you like me again?”

  I sigh exaggeratingly long. Can’t we move past this already? “We’ve been through this before, Max. I like you fine.”

  He smiles, chews, and then swallows. “You don’t treat me like you treat Nik, Ash, or Trick. You treat me different.”

  That’s ‘cause you’re so gorgeous you literally make my eyes water.

  I pick at my food and mumble, “I never really noticed. Sorry.” Desperate to change the subject, I ask, “Where is Ceecee tonight?”

  Max chews his food carefully. When he swallows, his eyes meet mine. So much sadness there. “She’s at my mom’s. She wanted to sleep over there tonight, and she wants to sleep at Nik’s tomorrow. The next day, she’ll tell me she wants to stay at Mom’s again. I just…” He shrugs, helpless.

  “She’s avoiding you.” A statement. A sad one.

  His low voice stabs me directly in the heart. “She doesn’t like me much right now.”

  As I cut into my steak—my butter soft steak, damn him—he starts, “I know I haven’t given you much of a choice with training Ceecee, but I meant what I said. I would do anything for her. I don’t mind stepping on toes to do that. She’s my everything, ya know?”

  I take a moment to digest those words.

  Would I do the same for my own children? Absolutely.

  His eyes meet mine. I watch him closely a moment before I smile. “I know. Besides, I actually found some things I think might suit her.” I lift the fork to my mouth. The moment the steak hits my tongue, I groan. “Oh my God, this is awesome.” I moan and groan some more before asking, “What did you use to marinade this?”

  His brows rise in surprise. “Yeah?” He looks down at his steak, and for a moment, I think he’s embarrassed. “It’s a family recipe.” His trademark grin appears. “If I told you, I’d have to kiss you.”

  I pause mid-chew. “You mean you’d have to kill me.”

  His grin grows. His eyes train on my lips. “Nope, I’d have to kiss you.”

  Ignoring my racing heart’s ‘yes, please!’ and tummy’s flutters, I roll my eyes and chuckle. “You’re a dork.” Thinking more about Ceecee, I nod and state confidently, “I’m excited to try something new with Ceecee. And if those things don’t work, I’ll keep looking. There are a lot of options out there. There’s bound to be at least one thing she’ll take to. If it’s out there, I’ll find it.”

  The sound of a chair screeching makes my ears bleed. Suddenly, I’m lifted out of my chair and off the ground. His arms wrap tightly around me and pull me close. Chest to stomach, I breathe him in. I lightly snake my arms around his toned middle and rub his back. He breathes into my ear, “You’re amazing.”

  My light squeeze becomes firm. This should feel awkward, but it doesn’t. Not at all. I love the feel of him, the smell of him. Just him. I tell him honestly, “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

  He holds me a long moment before he responds a hesitant and quiet, “Good, ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

  My arms squeeze, offering him comfort and support. I pull away and smile up at him. “I’m starved.”

  His eyes warm. “Let’s eat.”

  ***

  Helena

  Growing up with two older sisters was hell some days. If we weren’t fighting over makeup and clothes, Nat and I were fighting over boys and friends. My parents never stepped in until we were tearing each other’s hair out, literally. Nina acted as judge and jury, and Nat acted as executioner. Being the youngest meant I was always blamed for things at home. This was because my parents could never stand to be mad at me.

  I was the baby. And cute as hell. But even though my sisters got me into trouble, we were a team. I’d take the blame for something one of my sisters did, and then later that night, I’d get three times the dessert in thank you. We sure weren’t the Brady Bunch, but we had a lot of fun tearing into each other. We laughed a lot in our house. Although all three of us girls are hot-headed, we got over things quickly and always made time to laugh with each other. We gave affection freely amongst each other, mostly in private.

  If you messed with my sisters, you messed with me. I was never afraid to get physical to avenge my sisters in one way or another. I remember one day, Nina, Nat, and I all came home from school late. We were all bleeding from a fist fight after school involving the girlfriend of a football player who kissed Nat over the weekend. The girl was devastated. She was in love. I get it; I do. Nat stayed after school to talk to her about it, to ease the tension. The douche had told Nat he’d broken up with his girlfriend. He knew Nat liked him, so he played her like a violin.

  It was only on Monday when Nat got to school and everyone was whispering and giggling behind her back. She knew something was up. Amanda Adelaide Christiansen, head cheerleader and blonde bimbo, was waiting for her by her locker. She greeted Nat with a smirk. When she stepped forward and slapped Nat across the face, Nat didn’t flinch.

  Come on. Seriously? It was on. Like Donkey Kong.

  Nevertheless, Nat still wanted to talk to the girl, but when she showed up and six members of the cheer squad were waiting for her, we knew where it was heading. Nina and I stepped in. Nat followed suit.

  We knocked ‘em on their asses.

  Of course, we were all suspended but it was totally worth it. We walked home laughing and smiling, bonding over our bruised faces and split lips. As soon as we came home, Mom lost it. She grounded us and we accepted our fate. There was no point in arguing. Later that night, Mom sent Dad in to talk to us. He was pissed. We were petrified. My dad never got angry. As in, never. So when he shut the door behind him and searched our faces, we knew we were in deep shit.

  “The others…they look like you?”

  Nina choked on a laugh. “Much worse.”

  Nat and I bit our lips to stop our own laughter from joining hers. But Nina quickly straightened, remembering we were in deep doo-doo.

  But Dad asked, “You punch like I show you?” We all nodded, confused, not knowing what the hell was going on. Dad smiled and lowered his heavily accented voice. “Mama send me in here to scare you, you know? She is very upset. Girls should no come home bloody.”

  We all nodded. “Yes, Tata.”

  He shook his head, chuckling to himself. When he reached the door, he turned and spoke softly, “You must block better.” He smiled then added, “I show you how. Tomorrow.”

  There sure never was a dull moment at our house. I never realized living the way I did, with two older sisters, gave me a life skill I never knew I’d need. I have an insane ability to take and dish attitude without blinking an eye. Who knew I’d need that ability to deal with a thirteen-year-old paraplegic? I really should thank them. My sisters, that is.

  Nah. Fuck ‘em.

  Today was my first day of unassiste
d work. Just because it was unassisted, it didn’t mean I wasn’t supervised. For the next week, James will watch over me to make sure I’m doing everything I should be, but then it’s all me.

  After today’s sessions were over, James pulled me aside to tell me how much of a great job I was doing. Personally, I felt like I was doing okay. Not great, but okay. Having him tell me how impressed he is with me was definitely something I needed. And although I wanted to hug him, instead, I rubbed his bald head for luck. He laughed and playfully shoved me away. My heart warmed. It was nice to have my friend back.

  Felicity took me out to lunch and tried to get Willa to come along too, but she kindly refused. I told Felicity about The White Rabbit. She told me she’d always wanted to go, and invited herself along this Saturday. Somehow, I don’t think Felicity is the type of person who needs an invitation.

  I asked Nat to pick me up after work. As we reach our destination, I punch her arm. “Thanks for picking me up.”

  Flinching, she rubs her arm and responds, “No problem, bitch. And ouch!”

  I grin and murmur, “Oh, toughen up, princess.”

  Nat pulls over in front of the house. “You know what you’re doing?”

  I shake my head. “Nope, but I think Ceecee will help me figure it out.”

  She leans over and kisses my cheek. “Good luck. I’ll be at Tina’s. Come get me when you’re ready to go.”

  Shame fills me, hard and sudden. I look up at my sister and promise, “I’m going to get a car soon. I swear. As soon as I’ve got the money.”

  She lifts her arm and punches me in the same spot I got her. I flinch, “Ouch.”

  Her brows rise. “See? Told ya it hurts. And seriously, I don’t mind driving you around. Neither does Ash. Take your time sorting things. We got your back.”

  The bridge of my nose stings. Nat has been an absolute godsend. A pillar of support. My voice cracks as I tell her, “Thanks. I love you.”

  As soon as she spots my tears, she shoves me out the door. “Nope! We’re not doing this right now! You need to work. Vamoose!”

  Sniffling, I step out of the car and chuckle. “Yeah, yeah. I’m gone.”

  I walk up the long driveway, my duffle bag by my side. When I reach the front door, I ring the bell and wait. A minute passes before the door opens. I smile and look down at my new client. “Hey, Ceecee. How’re you doing, sweetie?”

  Today is no different from the other days I’ve seen her. She all but rolls her eyes and mumbles, “Fine.”

  An awkward silence follows. My smile falls. I clear my throat and force a smile so hard my cheeks hurt. “Is your dad home?” She nods and rolls her chair back out of the doorway in silent invitation. I step inside and ask, “So how are you liking this place? It looks amazing.”

  Her eyes reach mine. Her answer is quick, but harsh. “I hate it.”

  “Why is that?” I ask gently.

  Her gaze flickers to the floor before she murmurs, “It’s empty. And cold.”

  Doth my ears mishear, or is that the bitter sound of loneliness?

  My chest aches for her. I wish I could bend down and hug her without having my head bitten off. Before I can think better of it, I step forward, lean down, and wrap my arms around her. She doesn’t hug me back, but she doesn’t stiffen either. I hold her a long while before she asks quietly, “Why are you hugging me?”

  She asks this question in a soft way, a sweet way, so I know this is not a warning to never do it again. As I separate from her, I answer her just as quietly, “Because hugs are free and you looked like you needed one.”

  The squeak of a door opening snags my attention. Max steps out of what I can see is the bathroom. How do I know this? I know this, because as he opens the door, steam follows him out. That, and he is dressed in a towel.

  Only a towel.

  Holy Mary, mother of God. He is magnificent.

  I’ve seen men and I’ve seen their bodies. I’ve been to the beach a thousand times before. So I can say with absolute confidence, using my mental guide of comparison, this body is ridiculous. Ridiculously hot.

  My body’s reaction is just as ridiculous. My tongue swells. I begin salivating. My nipples bead and warmth hits my belly, hard. All I can do is watch in awe as he walks into the hallway. Water beads all over his olive skin and I silently wish to lick it off. With abs of steel and not an ounce of fat on him, my eyes follow his strong body as it moves gracefully down the hall.

  With a towel around his waist and one in his hands, he wipes at his face before calling out, “Baby girl, someone here?”

  I watch Ceecee smirk. “Yep.”

  Oh man. This is not good. This is not a playful smirk. This smirk is spiteful and nasty. What on earth is going on here? Why is this normally sweet girl hating on her dad? I don’t understand, but I vow to find out.

  When Max looks up and sees me, his slow smile has my stomach flipping around like fish out of water. “Cupcake. What are you doing here? I thought we had an appointment tomorrow sometime?”

  My heart smiles at the fact he’s not mad about me showing up uninvited. “I-uh…I just wanted to—uh…” My mind is finding it hard to concentrate when we’re trying to picture what’s underneath that towel. “Do you want to get changed, and then we’ll talk?”

  Ceecee starts to move away, when Max calls out, “Don’t go far, baby.”

  She doesn’t answer, just moves faster, and his smile fades. I would hug him if he were dressed…and if it weren’t completely inappropriate right now. Instead, he looks back at me and points to his towel. “Changing.”

  I nod dumbly, staring down at the towel. Unable to look away, the towel comes closer and closer ‘til my head snaps up. I find Max in my face, grinning like the fool he is. He lifts a hand and runs it through his wet hair, and then leans into me and whispers, “I guess we’re even.”

  My mind—now comatose from copious amounts of sexy—flat-lines. “Huh?”

  He looks down at my cleavage and tugs at the bottom of my tank. “I’ve seen you. Now you’ve seen me.” He smirks. “Even.”

  My brain-to-mouth filter sparks and I blurt out, “Technically, you’d have to lose the towel and put on undies. And a bra.”

  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 butt.

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

  Dat ass.

  Chapter Twenty

  Helena

  I was told to make myself at home, so that’s exactly what I do. Hell, 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 glasses, 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 shit. 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 si
gh 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 pooped 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 shit. 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 fucks up, I’m all over you like stink on shit.”

  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 balls 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 God, 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.”