Becoming His (24 page)

I take a long drink and squeeze her hand. “I’m great,” I say with a smile and I am. My break up was just a bit more exciting than I had intended, and I’m sure the stress of it shows on my face. I take another drink and push the thoughts further from my mind.

“The offer still stands. I’d be more than happy to throw a few punches,” Kyle says, standing behind me as he finishes a slice of pizza.

Kendall knows me too well to know if things had gone fine I would give her a brief summarization and wouldn’t be drinking. Surprisingly though, she doesn’t push it. She doesn’t have to.

Kyle grips my arm, roughly pulling it back and twisting it in an awkward Cirque Du Soleil move. “What the hell?” he yells. His hand grips my arm and I know I must already be sporting a bruise from where Eric had grabbed me. “Has he hit you before?” he demands, his green eyes bright with fury as I face him.

“What?” Kendall jumps up as the others slide their chairs back to get a look.

“It’s nothing.” I work to pull my arm back and try to conjure up a smile that will set Kyle at ease. Instead, he glowers at me with an intensity that I’ve only seen a few times in all the years I’ve known him.

“Ace,” Kyle repeats, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, “has he hurt you before?”

“No.” I can feel the others’ attention on me and can already picture their pity and anger.

Kyle’s eyes slowly open and find mine. I don’t avoid it. I know he won’t believe me unless I meet his challenge. His eyes quickly dance between mine, beseeching the truth. “No,” I repeat a little louder, shaking my head.

“Ace, seriously.” He persists.

“Seriously, Kyle, nothing has
ever
happened,” I insist, raising my eyebrows as I stare back into his eyes to emphasize I’m telling him the truth.

He still doesn’t look convinced. Kyle knows better than most about how to hide abuse, and I know this is hitting home with him since his dad had been a perpetual drunk that spent half of his time drinking and the other half abusing Kyle, both mentally and physically.

I shake my head in defeat. “I was stupid. I planned to meet him at a restaurant to break up because I didn’t know how things would go, and when I got there he drove us to a
different
restaurant because he’d made plans with these horrible social climbing jerks that all drank way too much and were being obnoxious and rude. So I left. I figured that even though I think breakups should be face to face, I’d give in this time and do it the middle school way and call him.

“But when I left he followed me, and I ended it a bit more publicly than I would’ve liked.”

“That doesn’t explain the bruise,” Kyle says, shaking his head and discounting pretty much everything I just told him.

“He was being an ass and I was done, with all of it. I didn’t want to argue with him so when he started following me, I walked away. He told me I was being dramatic, so I acted a little dramatic and threw his keys in the dumpster and walked away. He was pissed, and rightfully so. I really shouldn’t have—”

“You’re making excuses for him?” Kyle cries. “Unfuckingbelievable!”

“He didn’t hit me Kyle. He was trying to make me listen and I didn’t want to. I know I’ve needed to break up with him since …” I lift a hand and trail it backwards, shaking my head. They all know I’ve needed to do it for some time. “He was pissed off and he grabbed my arm. I didn’t stick around. I hailed a cab and came home. I didn’t even stop to get my car.”

I keep my eyes focused on Kyle as he intently stares at me. “Honestly, Kyle, he’s never hit me. I would have …” My words drift off as he nods and releases a deep sigh, working to calm himself down.

“If he comes over here again—”

“I’m breaking his fucking jaw,” Max interrupts.

My eyes turn to him as I hear the anger drip from his voice and see his right hand balled into a fist so tight his knuckles are white and pronounced against the stretch of his skin.

“And you won’t interfere,” Kyle instructs, looking at me with the same intensity.

I hesitate for a moment, trying to process this. I am in no way going to allow Max to hit Eric. After watching him at Dante’s, I’m still a little freaked out about what he’s capable of. However, knowing Eric and his pride, I doubt I’ll ever see him again. “Deal, as long as this stays here. At the kitchen table.”

Now it’s Kyle who hesitates. He looks at me for a long moment and I sense his unease as his gaze drifts over to Max and then to Kendall whose eyes are narrowed on me in thought.

“Deal,” she agrees. Kyle looks agitated with Kendall’s response but doesn’t argue as he turns his attention to the ceiling.

“What are you doing here anyways?” I ask him, feeling slightly relieved and anxious to turn the conversation.

“Mindi forgot her book thing last Sunday. I was supposed to get it yesterday but I forgot. I’m not making that mistake again.” His eyes grow with feigned fear.

I smile, happy to hear him crack a joke. “I think I saw it in the den. I’ll go grab it.”

As I return, e-reader in hand, I can tell they’re discussing me when I hear the swarm of hushed tones. I clear my throat and look to Kendall expectantly.

“We’re still at the kitchen table,” Kyle retorts, his tone set back to serious again.

“It’s not a big deal.” I pass him the e-reader.

“I told them you’d be pissed if they went looking for him,” Kendall says, tipping me off.

My eyes snap to Max and then to Kyle, both diligently working to avoid eye contact with me. “I’d be more than pissed! You guys aren’t going anywhere. This isn’t
Braveheart
. I don’t need anyone defending my honor.”

“Told you,” Kendall adds.

“Ace—” Max’s eyes look distant and tortured.

“Max, please. It’s over. Let’s let bygones be bygones.”

“He doesn’t deserve that!” His voice comes out strained, like he’s working to not yell the words at me. His fist slams against the table, expressing the anger he’s trying to disguise in his voice, making the salt and pepper shakers clink from the vibration it elicits.

He hastily pushes his chair back and strides out the front door at what seems like the speed of Superman.

“Shit,” Jameson mutters, pushing his chair back to follow. I don’t wait before I chase after him as well.

“Max!” I plead, sprinting the last few steps to catch up to him as he approaches his Jeep. I make one final dash to push in front of him and press my back against the driver’s side door.

“Max, stop.” I place a hand on his chest and can practically hear the deliberation occurring in his mind as he decides whether to ignore me or not. “Please,” I say softly, searching his eyes for some sort of resolve or understanding.

He lets out a loud sigh and laces his fingers behind his neck. His face tilts toward the sky for a long moment before dropping back to mine.

“I appreciate that you want to defend me, and I even understand and can agree with it to a certain extent, but I don’t want this to be an ongoing, messy ordeal. I want it to be over. I don’t want to see him again, I don’t want to talk to him again, and I don’t want to get revenge. I just want to be done. Can you please respect that and stay? Please, for me?”

Max lets out another loud sigh. His jaw clenches and he shakes his head subtly a few times before closing his eyes and looking to the ground. “He deserves to have the shit beaten out of him.”

“Let’s leave it to karma.”

“I’d feel much better taking care of it myself.”

The left side of my mouth pulls up in a smirk. “I know.” I wrap my arms around his body and feel his muscles relax just the tiniest bit as I pull myself to his chest.

“If he comes back here though—”

“I won’t interfere,” I agree again.

Max’s grip flexes before it loosens and we turn back to my house with our arms still securely wrapped around each other’s waists. The others stand in the driveway watching us.

“If he comes, call me. I want to help beat the shit out of him,” Kyle says before kissing Kendall on the cheek and heading over to do the same to Abby. “I have to get back before Mindi starts burning my clothes in the driveway.”

“No more douchebags,” he adds, hooking his elbow around the side of my neck and pulling me to him in a rough hug that breaks my arm from Max’s. “I love you too.” He plants a kiss on the top of my head before releasing me and walking to his truck.

“Love you too,” I call, following the others back inside.

T
he end of summer approaches rapidly. Max and I hold on to the final threads and spend the next week nearly inseparable. We attend a going away party for Jess, who is ecstatic to learn we’re hanging out so much. It goes far better than the other two parties we’d attended together.

“W
hat are you thinking so hard about over there?” I brush my hands together and lift the piece of driftwood I’d carried over and begin tracing lines that barely leave a trace in the dry sand we’re sitting in.

I glance back to Max whose eyes have gone from slightly squinted, his head tilted to the side, to being rounder and brighter.

“Get out of my head Bosse.”

A quiet laugh gets lost in a gust of wind as his attention moves to where Jameson is hauling Kendall into the surf. “I can’t fully read your mind yet.” Max’s eyes return to mine, bright with curiosity. “I’m learning, but you have the upper hand on me with this one. I’m just starting to recognize when you’re being sarcastic.” I’m definitely underplaying this, over the summer I’ve learned a lot about Max, but recently I’ve learned even more as we’ve uncovered facts and tidbits about one another. Some as simple as favorite colors to more complex things, like dreams and aspirations. There’s a certain level of comfort we share now. Quiet pauses don’t seem awkward with the need to force conversation. He doesn’t bat an eye when I wear one of my old camp T-shirts, and he quickly learns that ice cream really does make almost everything better.

“You know me better than most people.” His hands drop to the sand behind him and he moves closer to me, so our thighs brush and then wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me toward him so my head leans against the front of his chest. “It scares the hell out of me, but I’m starting to like it more than I fear it.”

W
hen Max and Jameson leave for a fishing trip that they’ve had planned, I want to feel excited for them. I know they’ve been looking forward to it, but the selfish part of me wants him to stay.

Thankfully their first day gone is a Sister Sunday and we pile into Mindi’s minivan. I try to listen to the multiple conversations surrounding me, hearing names and giggles floating through the air, but I can’t fight the distraction of Max as I wonder what he’s doing.

“Ace, where are you?” I glance around and notice Jenny and Savannah both stare at me from the bench in front of me.

“On the ocean with Max,” Kendall teases quietly with a grin. “She’s got it bad.”

There’s a chorus of
oohs
from my sisters that makes my face blush as they assault me with questions and comments, and even a few suggestions about Max’s hotness and the Miller boys in general.

I glance out the window in confusion when the van pulls to a stop. Usually we go to the same Mexican restaurant every Sister Sunday before we head to a movie, or a pedicure, or some other girly activity, but we’re sitting outside of a building covered in spray paint that I honestly can’t recall ever having seen before.