Page 27 of Cream and Punishment
He shrugged, a boyish smile on his face that had no business looking as attractive as it did. Then again, nothing about Max did, yet here we were.
“I don’t mind, though I’m curious why you asked.” He raked a hand through his hair and looked away. “I assume it must have something to do with our…history.”
Oh,tea and crumpets. He was bringing upthe incident. Right now.
The sick churning in my stomach returned. Did I really want to know his answer? It was as terrifying as it was enticing.
“Rejection hurts,” he continued. “It feels a little like a bruise, honestly. Tender for a while, but it heals. Especially when you take care of yourself.” He offered a sad smile. “Heartbreak, on the other hand, is a little more complicated.”
“I bet,” I whispered.
Guilt snaked its way around my ribs, sinking its fangs into my veins until the venom ran hot and acidic. I was the reason he’d gotten his heart broken. I put him through that. When was he going to give me what I deserved?
“What about you? How does rejection make you feel?” he asked. He had a light, teasing lilt to his voice, like he was trying to overcompensate for his vulnerability.
I should know. I do the same thing.
And that was the only reason I didn’t deflect this time.
I gripped the door with white knuckles, my pulse beating wildly against my throat. Howdidit feel? How could I possibly convey the way it shut me down, flooded me with the urge to flee, and weighed on me long after it happened? The concept of moving past it as quickly as a bruise healed felt foreign. So I settled on the best analogy I had.
“It feels like drowning.” I forced a smile, thanked him again, and shut the door on Max Fuentes.
ten
Iwasreallydoingthis. For the first time in years, I wasvoluntarilystaying up past eight. Would I regret it? Probably. But when your friend asks you to pick up a donkey costume for her school’s Shakespeare play, you do it.
Not without some resistance, though.
“Why can’tyoupick it up?” I asked, begrudgingly wedging my stocking feet into my flip-flops and pinching my phone between my shoulder and cheek. “You know I don’t get my car back from the mechanic until Monday, right?”
“And whose fault is that?” Hattie countered, her voice reverberating through the phone speaker. “Annie offered to check it for you weeks ago, but you turned her down. Kris is getting her kids to bed, Lex isn’t answering her phone, so I’m assuming she’s spending her Friday night with Mr. Tall, Organized, and Handsome. It’s from a Facebook Buy Nothing Group, so the competition is fierce. First come, first served. It’s only two blocks from your new apartment, and I’m halfway across town trading fried chicken for a mannequin.”
“You’rewhat?”
“Trading fried chicken for a mannequin,” she repeated, as if that was the most normal thing in the world. “Do you need to get your ears checked?”
I snorted. “No, I just made the mistake of expecting an answer that would make sense.”
“Centsis for bankers. Now, can you pick it up or not? Time’s a tickin’.”
I hesitated in front of my coat closet, debating whether to wear a jacket before deciding the walk would keep me warm enough. “Yeah, I’ll go pick it up. But you owe me, okay? It’s past my bedtime.”
I’d kept my oversized pajama shirt as it was, only exchanging my running shorts for sweats. I probably should’ve put a little more thought into my appearance before going into public, but I was too tired to care tonight. The bakery had been unusually busy this morning, and one of the high school part-timers had called out sick, so I’d been filling in at the register as well as baking as much as I could when I could. After I grabbed the costume, I wanted nothing more than to sink into bed and sleep for a century. Or until three A.M. rolled around again. Same thing.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll pick up the costume tomorrow afternoon once you’re off from work,” she said. “Hey, you want fried chicken in exchange?”
I laughed, though the offer was more tempting than I’d like to admit. I was getting a little sick of frozen pizzas. Between moving and working double shifts back-to-back, that was all I had energy to make by the time I got home. “You know what? Make it lasagna and you’ve got a deal.”
“Consider it done, girl. Thanks again, Dekker.”
Minutes later, I slipped into the hall—afterchecking the peephole, of course. My haggard appearance would scare whoever was getting rid of the donkey, but that would cut down on the small talk, right? Win-win. It’s not like my dating life could take a worse hit from this, and that knowledge was surprisingly freeing.
I’d made it successfully down to the first floor and to the door before running smack into a warm wall as I rushed through. I bounced off the significantly more solid, taller human being, who quickly caught my shoulders before I could stumble further. And I probably would’ve, knowing my luck.
“Sorry about tha—”Sweet chili peppers and popcorn, could a girlnevercatch a break? How many other people lived in this building, and I managed to literally run straight into Max’s brawny chest? With his hands steadying me, theDeja Vufrom this morning hit hard.
“Are you okay?” He flashed a smile, dark eyes roving over me to take in my appearance in all its saggy, holey, socks-and-sandals glory.
