Innuendos (It Had 2 B U Book 1) (30 page)

Holy mother of all twists! I’m fucking in love with Max!

I’m head over heels, to the moon and back, in love with Max. Why didn’t I see it before? He’s always been right there in front of me. He’s gone out of his way to make me feel better all these years. He’s the reason I continue to laugh and smile every single day. He knows what I love. He knows what I hate. He keeps me grounded, and yet crazy all at the same time. He does everything he can to make me happy: swing dance when he hates it, chick flicks when he despises them. He doesn’t even like chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, but he forces himself to eat it every time I’m sad. He does all of it because he loves me, and what do I do? I jump out of his bed the moment we make love and run straight into the arms of my ex. I pushed him away. I’m the one who sent him packing. Now I may have lost him forever, because I was stupid and obviously blind to the love I’ve been surrounded with for the last ten years.

Travis outstretches his hand and motions for me to come to him. I shake my head as a single tear appears on my cheek.

“I can’t do this, Travis. It’s not fair to you.”

“What’s not fair?” his voice quivers a bit.

“Us. This. I care about you a lot, but seeing you here trying to be Max, made me realize something that I’ve never thought about before.”

He sighs, “You’re in love with him.”

“Yes, I am.”

He pulls a box out of his pocket and gets down on one knee
.

Holy cow, he’s going to propose to me!

No! What is he doing?

“Well, I’m in love with you, Breeanne. There isn’t a day that goes by where you’re not on my mind. Watching you wither away the last seven days has killed me. I want to make you happy. I want to spend the rest of my life learning exactly what I need to do to make you smile. I know this may seem like a weird thing to do, seeing as you just announced your love for another man, but I’m hoping it’s enough for you to realize how perfect we are for each other. Breeanne, will you marry me?”

I’m totally flabbergasted right now. Why would he propose to me knowing that I’m in love with Max? It doesn’t make sense at all. He stares up at me with hopeful tears in his eyes. This man on his knees wants to give me forever, yet, he really doesn’t know a single thing about me or who I really am. He had to ask my best friend how to make me feel better for god’s sake.

“What’s my middle name?” I ask him.

“Huh? I don’t know, Lindsey?”

“It’s Nicole. What’s my favorite song?”

“
Barbie Girl
by Abba.”

“The group is called Aqua, and no, it’s actually
Pour Some Sugar on Me
by Def Leppard,” I answer, completely annoyed. “What is my biggest pet peeve? What am I scared of? What are my parent’s names?”

“I don’t know, but that’s all stuff I want to know.” He gets up off his knees. Finally, he gets the hint.

“We know nothing about each other, Travis. I’m sorry, that I said I loved you. I thought I actually meant it. I realize now, that I was more infatuated with the idea of you, and being in love, than anything else. All along I’ve had true love standing right in front of me. I didn’t realize that’s what it was. Now that I know, I’m not about to let it go without a fight. I’m sorry you felt the need to propose to me. I don’t want to break your heart, but I also need to do what’s right for me. Unfortunately, what’s right for me, isn’t you. I appreciate you trying to make me feel better. I really do. But you’re not Max, and Max is the only person capable of healing these wounds I have.

“So you’re breaking up with me?” he frowns.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I hope we can still be friends.” I’m pretty sure I have a genuine smile on my face, although with the way Travis is staring at me, it’s hard to tell.

“I knew something was going on between the two of you. I knew a woman and a man couldn’t live together and not fall for each other,” he shouts running his hand through his hair.

“You were right,” I agree. “At the time I couldn’t see it. Now I do. I’m sorry, Travis. I really am.”

He closes up the ring box and squeezes it until his knuckles turn white. “Did you sleep with him while we were together?”

“No, of course not.”

He studies my face to see if I’m lying.

“Well, at least you’re not a cheating whore. Have a nice life Breeanne. I hope giving up what we have is worth it in the end. Don’t bother looking me up once I walk through that door.” He stands there motionless, waiting for me to say something. When I don’t say a word, he turns and walks out the door. A little piece of my heart walks out with him, but it’s nothing like the hole Max left behind.

Immediately I pick up my phone, and dial Maggie’s number. When she picks up, I beg her to help me. I need her to convince Max to go out Friday night. In my heart I know what I’m doing is right. Fighting for the love of my life is the only way to mend the brokenness inside of me. My only hope is that Max takes the bait.

Chapter Thirty-one

Max

Have you ever wanted something so badly, that you start counting the days until you get it? When I was seven, my mom told my sister and me that we were all going to Disneyland at the end of the month. I counted each day up until the moment we left. Well, guess what? The same goes for when you’re losing someone. It’s day eight post Breezy. Every day that goes by is another day that I’m sitting in my old bedroom wondering what she’s doing, or if she’s happy. It’s been eight days since I last saw her smile, heard her voice, and held her in my arms. If I had known it was going to be this hard, I would’ve sucked it up and stayed.

“You look like shit,” a voice breaks into my thoughts. I look up and see my younger sister standing in the doorway. She’s wearing blue jeans and a green crop top. She’s smiling like an idiot.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in—the college girl—that whisper of a sister I know I have, but never see.” I get up from the bed and attack her with a brotherly hug. “It’s great to see you, Ev. What are you doing here?”

She laughs. “Mom said you broke off your friendship with Breezy. She said you look like shit and could use a friendly face. She was right.” I notice there is some kind of accent in her voice that wasn’t there the last time I talked to her.

“You’re talking funny,” I mention, cocking my head to the side.

“I’m dating a guy who’s from England. I’ve sort of picked up his accent,” she grins.

“Weren’t you dating a Spanish guy last time I talked to you?”

“Yeah, we broke up.”

“How come?”

“He didn’t like the tacos I made him.”

“Seriously? What guy breaks up with a girl over tacos?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “I might have sorta lied about being Spanish,” she remarks picking at the skin on her arm. “When my accent started to falter and my broken Spanglish didn’t hold up anymore, he started questioning my authenticity, but it was when my Mexican cuisine didn’t taste Mexican that he dumped me for lying to him. At least our tanned Italian skin and dark hair got me by for three months.”

“What is it with you and dating guys with accents?”

“I don’t know. They’re hot. They get my panties all wet and stuff,” she laughs when my face turns in disgust. My little sister DOES NOT need to be having sex.

“Do me a favor . . . never talk to me about your wet panties again!”

“Aww, Max, does it embarrass you?”

“It grosses me out.”

“Yes!” she shouts, “My mission is complete.” She pumps her fist in the air.

“So what’s with the new accent?”

“I told you, my boyfriend is from England. I sorta adopted his accent and culture.”

“So now you’re English?”

“Have you tried tea and crumpets? The combination is amazing!”

“What’s the new boyfriend’s name? Does he realize you’re not English?”

“Leo, and no. He thinks I spent a couple years in Cambridge. I have the accent down pretty good, don’t you think?”

“Holy fuck, you really are an accent hussy!”

She giggles. “Damn straight I am! Give me an accented man over your average run of the mill Joe any day of the week. I plan on marrying a man with an accent. That way when I have sex, I’m wet all of the time.”

“Stop it! No more sex talk. You’re killing me, Ev.” I hate how evil her smile is. She loves making me squirm.

“Fine, no more sex talk. What’s your plans this weekend?”

“Nothing yet. You’re looking at it.”

“We should go out,” she exclaims happily. “Let’s do something fun to keep your mind off Breezy.”

“Okay, like what?”

As if on cue, my phone chirps. It’s Dashawn.

Dashawn: Mags wants to Karaoke tomorrow night. She has a friend she wants you to meet. Wanna double?

Me: I hate Karaoke

Dashawn: Me too

My phone chirps again. This time it’s Maggie.

Maggie: You need to come. The girl I want to hook you up with is amazing and absolutely perfect for you. Please, Max. You need to get out of your damn house.

Dashawn: Listen to her man. If anything, you can pick up some other chick at the bar.

Me: I don’t know. My sister is here.

Maggie: Bring her along

Dashawn: What’s that little brat up to nowadays?

Me: Trouble. This two text message thing is confusing.

Maggie: Will you come?

Me: I guess, but only because Ev is begging me to get out of the house.

Maggie: Awesome, meet us at OK Karaoke at seven.

Me: Will do.

I hang up my phone and look
at Everly. “It looks like we’re going karaoking tomorrow night.”

“Yes! I love singing.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me? Be ready by seven. How long are you staying this time?”

“Just for the weekend, although, you’re stuck with me after next month.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m moving back home after graduation. I’m going to have to find a job, but I miss you guys and want to come home.”

“What about Luther?”

“Leo. He’s going to find out I’m not English, sometime. No use in pretending that the relationship will last after he finds out I’m lying.”

“Exactly how many boys with accents have broken up with you because of your lying anyway?”

“Seven.”

“You’ve dated seven guys in the last five years?”

“No, I’ve
fucked
seven guys with accents in the last five years. I’ve only had two relationships, meaning they lasted longer than a month—not including Leo.”

“I’m buying you a chastity belt; then I’m throwing away the key.”

“Face it, Max. Your little sister isn’t so little anymore. My vagina has almost been to all seven continents, and dipped in at least nine different cultures.”

“Nine? Why is the number increasing?”

“I may have forgotten a couple. The number is closer to ten.”

“Holy shit, not only is my sister an accent hussy, she’s also a floozy.” I run my hand through my hair and try to grasp the fact my sister openly admits to being easy. She’s like my female doppelganger. I gotta put a stop to this shit, and soon.

“I’m so not a floozy. Think of it like I’m expanding my horizons. I’m cultured now.” Her smile says she’s proud of herself. My stomach clenches in disapproval. I hate thinking of her playing around with sex this way.”

“Cultured in dick,” I smart.

“That, too. Did you know that Jamaicans are really well endowed?”

I groan, “Fuck, Everly. Just stop.”

She laughs hysterically. “You’re way too easy, Max,” she grins. “Come on. Let’s go find something to eat. I’m thinking Mexican.”

“Not English?”

“Max, they don’t make English food, you idiot. Now come on; this will be your treat.

Friday night came too quickly. In all honesty, going out and hanging with my friends is probably exactly what I need, but I’m seriously dreading doing anything right now. Everywhere I go, everything I do, somehow it all reminds me of Breezy.

Everly smacks my arm when we get to the bar and laughs. “No wallowing. Tonight we’re having fun—possibly getting you laid in the process.

“I’m not sure having fun and getting laid is possible tonight. My dick just doesn’t get happy anymore.”

“Well, I’ve heard pussy is a natural cure for an unhappy dick. Seriously, it’s like a reverse enema.”

“You’re disgusting,” I say laughing.

“Sorry, I had to take a basic nursing class while in school. I learned a lot.”

“What does a basic nursing class have to do with business?”

“Nothing, I took it before I picked my major. All it took was seeing blood and changing a bed pan for me to change my major. Everly and body fluids don’t mix like that. So where are these friends of yours?”