I wonder briefly if it’s the same party that Lumen and Danyella mentioned, the one that Chasm’s going to, and that Parrish is supposedly sneaking out for.
That dick.
He was going to bail and leave me at home to pick up the pieces. I’d hate him more for it if I weren’t the one who’d already bailed out on our grounding.
“You’re in college?” I ask. It seems pretty obvious. I mean, where else would he have graduated from but high school? Still, I can’t seem to think up another question to ask. My palms are sweaty, and I’m starting to wonder if the hand of fate—which I normally don’t even believe in—isn’t involved somehow.
I’m not usually attracted to people I just met, and this guy is … well, there’s something different about him.
“Yeah, the U of O,” he says absently, and my brows go up. The line moves forward yet again. I smile. I’m about to mention Maxine and then maybe, just maybe, ask this guy for his number when he turns to me with an apologetic sort of expression on his face.
“I’m really sorry,” he says, and I end up blinking in surprise. “You seem … well, I liked you right away.” He points and grins at my shirt. “Your style, your hair, your, well, everything. But I’ve got a girlfriend, and she’s pretty awesome so …” He trails off and my stomach drops to the floor. A blush creeps over my cheeks as he offers one last smile in apology and approaches the registers.
“Can I get a chai latte, a double chocolate mocha, and—”
“A watermelon Italian soda?” I finish with a sharp stab of disappointment.
Well, crap.
I’ve just now figured out who this is.
First ‘love at first sight’ type crush I’ve ever had, and he’s taken. Not just taken, but like, blacked out of being a love interest for the rest of eternity.
The guy turns to glance at me with a raised brow, and I force another smile out, even though it hurts. What number is this now? Forced smile six billion and two? I’ve lost count at this point.
“You’re Maxx Wright, yes?” I ask and understanding dawns on him. “Dakota Banks.” I point at myself as Maxx struggles to maintain his own smile, sliding his debit card into the reader to pay for our drinks.
“Maxine’s sister,” he says, sounding almost … relieved? “No wonder I liked you straight off.”
My mouth twitches. I'm not sure if his statement is supposed to be dismissive, but it sort of feels that way in the moment. I decide to brush it off in the name of progress; silver lining is that he’s not a cheater at least. It was risky coming out here today, and I’m not going to screw up the first meeting with my sister in months over some boy.
“Yeah, must be,” I agree, albeit a bit lamely. Maxx—I still can't quite get over the guy having the same name as my sister—gives me a smile right back, one that I suspect is just as forced as my own. He tucks his card away and we move past the crowd to find an empty table in the corner to wait for our drinks. “Max,” I start, referring to my sister, and then pause as the boy's gorgeous emerald eyes slide over to mine. “Right.” I exhale and sit up straight, pushing green and black hair away from my face. “I call Maxine, Max sometimes. And well, your name is Maxx. So what should I call you? What do you and Maxine call each other?”
I'm genuinely curious. My mind briefly flashes to … other things, and I wonder if it gets awkward, calling out each other's names in the dark. My cheeks flare hot, and I shove the thought away. The last thing I want to think about is my sister getting it on with some hot guy that I actually considered asking out.
Maxx—with the two Xs—smiles back at me, his knuckles grazed and raw with what looks like a fresh injury. He's got some athletic tape wrapped around his wrist, too, making me think he must've taken a pretty nasty fall in the last few days.
“You can call me X,” he says, his forced smile fading into something a bit more natural as he moves to explain. But I'm already two steps ahead; I get it. “It's because—"
“You have two Xs in your name. Yep.” I tap the side of my head, my own smile relaxing a bit. Who cares if the guy is gorgeous? I've got more important things to worry about. Such as getting back to New York where I belong. Or not getting caught by my overprotective bio mom. If she finds out that I've sneaked out, and then Parrish decides to sneak out … We're both going to be heading into a world of hurt when we go back to the house. I cannot for the life of me begin to call it home. For now—forever—Tess’ multimillion dollar mansion is simply ‘the house’. “I'm quick on the uptake.”
Maxx—err, X—raises his brows and then lets out a low, sultry chuckle, rife with self-confidence but free of condescension. It’s a beautiful sound, and I feel my own breath let out in a huff. No, Dakota. Bad Dakota. Sister's boyfriend. Don't act like a freaking creeper.
“I guessed that right away,” he says, cocking his head slightly to one side and teasing rough fingertips across the surface of the table. With his sun-kissed skin and the bruise on the left side of his jaw, the battered knuckles, the athletic tape, it’s quite clear that although X and I were attracted to each other initially, our interests are way off. I wouldn't, um, exactly describe myself as an outdoorsy person. More of a ‘gamer girl who reads too many books and watches too much anime and also hisses at the sun’ sort of a person. “The way your eyes take in a room, it’s obvious that your brain is going a million miles a minute. It's why I struck up a conversation when I shouldn't have.” Maxx pauses briefly as his name is called, and we both stand up to grab the drinks. “I've got it,” he volunteers, unfolding his athletic form from the vintage armchair and moving away before I can truly process what it is that he’s just said.
He started talking to me because I looked smart. Because he liked how smart I seemed.
Dear universe, please help me through this.
Fortunately, before I get a chance to dive any further into my own head, the doors to the coffee shop open and there she is, my favorite person in the entire world.
“Max!” I shout, probably a little louder than I should. A few sets of eyes swing my way before the coffee shop’s occupants go back to their phones or laptops or lattes. I'm out of my seat and in her arms before I know it, crushed into a sweet-smelling hug that feels like it contains every ounce of warmth in the world.
“Baby sister,” she breathes, crushing my head beneath her chin. At five-eight, I'm about as average a height as there is, but still, my sister towers over me at six-one. We always used to laugh about it because both my grandparents are my height, as is Saffron. Maxine is the only person in the Banks family to exceed six feet. Since we know absolutely nothing about her biological father, we always assumed she got it from his side. And since we know nothing about mine, we always assumed any oddities between me and my family were the result of patriarchal DNA.
Only … Maxine is related to the Banks, whereas I am most definitely not.
After the surprise discovery of my lineage, we were both DNA tested, just to see if Saffron might’ve been lying about both of her supposed daughters. But no. Maxine is a true Banks. It’s just me that’s the odd one out.