Page 75 of The Charming Checklist
“I can’t talk about this right now. I’m next in line and my blossoming vajayjay print is about to be shipped.” The woman turned to her, her “former principal of a school for wayward girls” frown firmly in place. “Yes, that’s right. It’s an artistic rendering of avagina. A lot stronger than a set of balls, and nothing to be afraid of. And my mother is the one who bought it! Want to make something out of it, lady?”
Gosh! She was so tired of being nice all the time. Next time someone got her food order wrong she was sending it back. And she was going to tell Cole in no uncertain terms that the coffee they currently served tasted like it had been strained through lettuce. No more Miss Nice Girl.
Valerie was laughing. “I think I’m growing on you.”
“Maybe you are, but also, I’m in a horrible mood.”
“It was bound to happen sooner or later.”
Next, maybe Ava would get up the nerve to tell Max that he was a chump for dumping her. Because she was the best thing to ever happen to that grump, and someday he’d figure it out for himself.
Chapter Twenty-One
Four days later, Max had grown sick of himself. His was a sad state of affairs. He glanced down at his reading material, and fervently wished for a lobotomy. Or perhaps he should stick pins in his eye sockets. Both would be far less painful.
Every morning he woke to examine his chest, surprised he didn’t find a gaping wound there. He’d wanted Ava back two hours after he’d broken up with her. But he just didn’t see a way to solve this problem. Worse, if she was right and he couldn’t tell herwhyhe loved her, maybe he didn’t.
But unfortunately, he didn’t believe that for a second. His heart told him otherwise. It was just speaking in a foreign language.
“Hey.” Adam plopped down on the couch. His eyes widened as he took in the books splayed out on the coffee table. “What the f—”
“I don’t want to hear any crap from you. And if you tellanyoneabout what you’ve seen here today, I’ll kill you.”
Scattered over the table were self-help books for the lovelorn. This was proof of how far he’d fallen.Love Languages,Speak Her Language,Tell Her You Love Her in Five Easy Steps,100 Ways to Love Her.
“This doesn’t make any sense.” Adam picked up a book, holding it like toxic waste. “Why, God, why?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Dude, whathappened? You could have had any woman you wanted. I remember how you used to just walk into a room and women would practically arm wrestle with each other just to get near you. Somehow, somewhere, something went terribly wrong.”
“Yeah, you could say that.” He grunted.
“You never had women problems before.”
“Well, this isn’t just any woman.” He cleared his throat. “This isthewoman.”
Adam would understand. He’d loved a woman once and lost her in the most permanent of ways. His wife, a nurse, had died while working overseas for Doctors Without Borders. That particular memory had kept Max up for the past few nights, wondering how he could simply walk away from Ava. The simple answer was that he could not. He still had a chance to fix this. Unfortunately, everything else was far more complicated.
“It’s Ava,” Adam said.
“Yes. And I know, I’m an idiot.”
“Not at all. But I’m surprised you lost her. She was all googly eyed over you, like most women are.”
Max explained everything, earning several brow quirks from Adam. So many that Max felt a pull to shave those bushy eyebrows off.
“You’re right,” Adam said with a blank stare. “Youarean idiot.”
An hour later, they were both elbow deep in the books, having sworn mutual oaths of silence. Max bent over the book in the same way he’d studied for a midterm. Adam relaxed, the book kind of balancing on his thigh.
A couple of times Adam chuckled. “Yeah, that’s right. Mandy always used to do that.”
But Max felt as though he were reading a book in a foreign language. All these efforts seemed doable, sure, but they were hardly personal. Intimate. They all seemed forced and he was certain Ava would see through this, too. None of them were him, or his style.
Cole breezed in the door a few minutes later, Sub right behind, wagging his tail.
“Hey, what’s up?” He made the classic “hang ten” sign, true surfer boy that he’d always been.
