“I have no idea,” I tell her honestly. “I knew they weren’t close and that Maxwell wasn’t Theo’s biggest fan, but I think there’s more going on than I ever imagined.” Not that I actually gave it much thought . . . at least before. Now the adorably inquisitive side of me is dying to get to the bottom of this.
When I find Julia, she’s standing behind the bar, grabbing what I can only pray is my margarita. “Excuse me.” The pitch of my voice raises a few decibels. “Is there any way we can order our meal to go? Something came up.”
“Of course.” She eyes the margarita in her hand. “Do you still want this?”
“Is water wet?” I ask before I can check myself.
I should really invest in some kind of class to help me develop a filter.
Luckily for me, she laughs, and even if she didn’t find me funny, I’m standing much too close for her to spit in my drink.
“Then here you go. Are you ready to order now, or do you want me to come find you in a few?”
“Um . . .” I know what I want. I’m a creature of habit when it comes to food. But Maxwell and I are too new for me to know what to order for him. “Let me go ask him what he wants and I’ll find you.” I glance at Eloise, who is on her tippy-toes, craning her neck, trying to get a good look at what’s happening at our table. I tap her shoulder and she spins around with the same expression Ace wore when I caught him standing by the freezer, eating ice cream out of the container.
“What? Hi! Sorry, what?”
I bite the inside of my cheek not to laugh at her. “Watch my drink for me?”
“Can I have some?” she counters.
“I knew I always liked you,” I say. Even though . . . lies. I totally hated her, but mainly because I was just being a hater. “Of course you can.”
“Then yes, I can.” She smiles and I’m pretty sure the group of businessmen sitting at the table behind us fall in love.
“Be right back.”
I don’t make it far. Only four steps to be exact before two angry sets of eyes stop me in my tracks.
“Um, I was just coming to get your order.” I bite my lip, hating the hesitation in my voice.
I keep my gaze leveled on Maxwell, but it’s hard to focus when Theo’s angry one is damn near burning a hole in the side of my face. But even distracted, there’s no missing the warring emotions crossing Maxwell’s beautiful face. “I’m so sorry to do this, but I have to go,” he says.
My head jerks back so fast, the room starts to spin. “What?”
“I don’t want him near you,” he whispers, his mouth so close that his lips graze my ear as he talks.
But even though my body is a fucking traitor and even that tiny bit of contact sends lightning bolts straight to my core, my mind is sound and my hackles shoot up. “What does that even mean?” I keep my tone hushed, not wanting to draw more attention to our group than the hostile waves rolling off Maxwell and Theo have already garnered. “I’m grown.”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. I know he’s holding on by a thread and I think on my words. I’m grown enough to put myself in his situation and think about how I would feel if my mom suddenly showed up. The last thing I’d want is for him to witness that.
“Okay,” I say before he gets the chance to speak. “Go, I’ll take an Uber home.”
“No.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the valet ticket. “Take my car. I’m going to ride with Theo and I’ll call you when I’m done.”
“I . . . I . . .” Okay, now my mind stops working, and before the circuits repair themselves, he sticks the ticket in my hand and is out the door. “I can’t drive your car! I’m a terrible driver!” I yell to the now-closed door.
Fuck.
I really need that margarita, and now I can’t have it.
“I’m a fantastic driver.” Eloise places the cold margarita glass in my hands. “And you look like you need to get drunk.”
I contemplate saying no and heading back to Maxwell’s house to wait up for him. But that only lasts for about one point two seconds. Then I realize the best date I’ve ever been on ended in catastrophe and I won’t be getting any tonight. I lift the salt-covered rim to my mouth and down the remainder of the margarita, not even stopping when my brain freezes in my head.
“Let’s go to HERS.” I put the empty glass on the table and dig out enough cash to cover my drink and give Julia a sizable tip. “I know the owner, we can drink for free.”
Thirty
Maxwell had to come see me.
Taking the keys to someone’s car is a fantastic way to make sure they follow up. Only if they offer, of course. Don’t go to jail trying to get a second date. But if the opportunity presents itself, I definitely encourage taking it.
He was properly apologetic, and I was—if I do say so myself—properly understanding. But that was where it ended. I didn’t invite him inside and he didn’t ask. I think it was a heavy evening for all involved, and a short break was needed.
The problem with this? Our break has now lasted a week. I mean, we text and shit, but I’m not sixteen anymore, and a good-morning text doesn’t do what it used to. I understand that the regular season is coming to an end and if they want to keep their playoff hopes alive, he needs to focus. If anyone understands the demands of a job, it’s me.
What is pissing me the fuck off though, is he’s had this job for years and still managed to multitask.
This is a problem.
Maxwell doesn’t like confrontation. He doesn’t like getting angry or having people angry at him . . . which is funny when you think about how many crazed football fans hate him. Whereas I don’t give a single fuck. If I have a problem, I want it dealt with immediately. I’d rather get in a scream fest than walk on eggshells pretending things are fine when they’re clearly not.
“Ew.” Charli slides into her reserved, game-day chair across the bar. “Who peed in your Lucky Charms?”
“Gross.” My stomach turns. “I don’t think that’s even the saying, and now you’ve fucked up marshmallows for me.” Which makes me even more irritated because I just ordered some for the seasonal hot cocoa cocktail I’m putting on the menu.
“I know, but when’s the last time you bought a cereal that wasn’t marketed to children? Have you ever even bought Cheerios?”
“Once, they had a special edition for the Olympics that had marsh—never mind.” I grab an olive out of the container and aim it at her forehead when she starts to laugh.