“You say that, but you have a weird look on your face,” July points out, and I look between her and everyone else, finding them all studying me closely now.
“Mom said you two were obviously together,” May adds.
“We’re not.” I take the glass of wine Matt hands to me. “Or I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, and I think about deflecting, but the truth is, I could use some advice, since I’ve never been in a situation like this before.
“It’s complicated,” I answer, then explain everything that happened while he was here, then about the kiss and him saying we will talk when he gets back. When I finish, everyone’s completely quiet and looking at me with wide eyes.
“Well, it sounds to me like you’re his,” July says with a smirk.
“I’d say so too,” Kirk agrees.
“I haven’t heard from him once since he left the day before yesterday, and you’d think if he really is interested that he would call to check in or at the least send a text. Heck, even an email would be better than complete silence,” I say, feeling the same sense of disappointment I felt at sixteen when I never heard from him after the kiss we shared.
“Have you reached out to him?” Matt asks, and I shake my head and leave out that I have written him about a dozen texts, then deleted each of them. Nothing I wrote ever seemed right. And honestly, it makes me uncomfortable putting myself out there, being the one to make a move first. Or any move at all really.
“So you don’t even know if something happened to him? He could be in the hospital right now,” May says, and I gasp.
“Don’t say that.” I press my hand to my stomach.
“It’s true. He could be.” She shrugs.
“Stop saying that,” I demand, and she smirks.
“There is only one way to find out that he’s not.” She nudges my phone toward me, and I stare at it like it’s a snake ready to strike.
“Answer me this,” Kirk says softly, and I focus on him. “Do you like him?”
“Yes,” I admit the truth out loud—and to myself for the first time. “A lot actually.”
“Then maybe you should give him a call,” Matt adds gently, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “Not every guy is like Cohen. There are some good ones out there.” He looks at his husband with softness in his eyes.
“I can attest to that.” July catches my gaze, and I smile at her, because she is not wrong. Wes, her husband, is one of the best, and I love the way he loves my sister.
“All right, I’m going to call him.” I start to reach for my phone but stop when someone knocks on the door downstairs.
“I thought it was just us for dinner tonight,” Matt says.
“It is.” I look at my sisters. “No one else was coming, right?”
“No, everyone was busy,” May replies, and I shrug and head for the stairs, hearing everyone follow behind me.
When I reach the bottom step, I see the outline of a large man standing on the other side of the door. Opening it, my heart drops into my stomach, and I brace my hand on the doorjamb to keep from falling over when I come face-to-face with Gene, the guy who does security for Maxim and his family.
A million reasons why he would be knocking on my door fill my mind, and not one of them is good. He looks at me, then the people behind me, and says something into the phone at his ear before pulling it away.
“Mr. Kauwe would like to speak with you.” He holds out a phone toward me, and I look down at it.
“What?”
“Mr. Kauwe would like to speak to you.” He lifts the phone closer to my face, then sighs when I don’t take it and puts it on speaker. “She can hear you,” he rumbles.
“April,” Maxim says, and I take the phone.
“Yes.”
“Do you have friends over?”
I frown, looking behind me at my sisters and my friends, all of whom are watching me and listening closely. “Yes?”
“Just friends?”
“I’m sorry. I must have hit my head, because I swear your security just knocked on my door, giving me heart palpitations, making me think you were dead and that he was here to give me the news. Instead, he’s handed me a phone, and now you’re asking who I have over and questioning if they are just friends.”
“You were worried?” he prompts quietly, and my nostrils flare. Of course he would focus on that part of my tirade.
“No,” I lie. “And even if I was, that is not the point, Maxim.”
“Right.” It sounds like he’s smiling. “I would have called you, but you changed your number and didn’t give me your new one. I asked Gene to stop by your place and get it for me, and he called to let me know there was a man holding you in your doorway.”
“You’re a snitch.” I look up at Gene and glare, which seems to have zero effect on him at all, and Maxim’s laughter fills the air. “This is not funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” July mumbles behind me, and I turn my glare on her, watching her shrug.
“I’ll let you get back to your company.”
“That’s it?” I ask in disbelief.
“Give Gene your number.”
“Seriously?”
“I miss you, your pussy, and the taste of you first thing in the morning,” he rumbles, and my nipples tighten along with my core, while either July or May whispers “Oh my” behind me. “I’ll talk to you later, baby. Be good.” He hangs up before I can even reply. My cheeks warm as I look up at Gene, noticing that up close he is seriously hot but also seriously scary, which is saying something, because men normally do not scare me.
“Before you hand that back to me, plug in your number,” Gene orders, and I want to say no, but I do not think that would be wise. Once I type in my new phone number, I hand him his phone back, and he dips his chin ever so slightly. “Have a good evening.”
“You too.” I watch him walk off, then turn to go back into the house and ignore the looks everyone is giving me.
“I think it’s safe to say you have nothing to worry about when it comes to Maxim,” Matt says as I stomp up the steps ahead of the group.
“I think he might be as crazy as Wes.” July laughs, and I bite the inside of my cheek, because I’m thinking she might be right about that. I reach the kitchen and pick up my wine, taking a large sip.
“I still can’t believe you had to change your number after Cohen spoke about you on the radio,” Matt says, taking some cheese and crackers off the board. “Did he really think that move would have you running back to him?”
“I think that move would have won most women back,” July proclaims, then adds, “Our mom, who didn’t even like him, was swooning after she listened to him talk about how April was the woman who got away and the one he would do anything to win back.”
“He’s such a jerk,” May mutters, and I give her a look of agreement. Out of everyone here, she’s probably the only one who really knows about everything I went through with Cohen. About all the times he promised to change, promised he would make us a priority. About all the times he said he would slow down on the drinking and partying, stop hanging out with the band and all the groupies all the time.