“Max!” Milo whispered. “What are we going to do now?”
“I want to go home,” he said in a low voice. “Bitches be crazy and I don’t have enough strength to say no. I don’t have it in me, I’m juiced out, my number’s been called, Milo. Shit, the things I do for my best friend.”
Milo clapped her hands. “Focus, Max. What’s the story?”
“I love you,” he said in a bored voice.
Curious, I stepped around the corner. No chance in hell I was sticking around to watch them make out. But they were by the bathroom under the stairs, apparently strategizing, so I paused, remaining hidden in the entry. Seemed I wasn’t moving any time soon after all, especially considering I’d heard Milo say, “What’s the story?” Indeed. What was the story? My ears strained to hear their conversation.
“Make it sound more convincing.”
“My heart,” he drawled. “Oh, how it beats for you. Thump, thump, thumpity thump—”
“I’m not Bambi!”
“Aw, Thumper, what a guy, I used to love that rabbit—”
“Max!” she snapped.
“Fine. You’re beautiful, I want to screw your brains out and—oh, look, cake.”
“No cake until you make it more convincing.”
“Remind me of this moment,” Max said in a lofty voice, “when I ask you for a favor, and trust me, it’s going to be huge. I mean I’m pretending to be your fiancé.”
“Your fault,” she said in an irritated voice. “You were only supposed to be the boyfriend.”
“And now I’m gay . . .” he continued.
“Again, your fault.”
“And now they want to hear our engagement story.”
“Again,” Milo snapped, “your fault!”
“I panicked!” he said in a strained voice. “I’m still not myself . . .”
She groaned and reached for his hand. “Fine, we’ll just say we met at school, fell in love, and you proposed under the stars.”
He scoffed, “Please, I have more romance than that in my pinky finger.”
“You proposed during poetry class?”
“No.” He released her hand and tapped his chin. “They’ll never believe I would be so unoriginal.”
“Need I remind you . . . They. Don’t. Know. You.”
“A concert.” He snapped his fingers. “A concert I put on for the homeless—”
“Oh, hell.”
“—and I wrote a song for you. The last song, and I asked you to come onstage. You cried. People in the audience wept, I mean full-on wept when I told them the story about how you rescued me from my nasty drug addiction and involvement in the Mafia.”
“You’re Canadian.”
“And then.” He snapped his fingers again. “As I held your face, like a mother holds her newborn babe close to her teat . . .” He nodded. “You whispered, ‘Max is the love of my life. I’d die for him, and yes, yes I’ll marry you, and bear you seven children to fill the house with laughter. Yes, I’ll sleep with you every night—naked, because you hate clothes—and I swear, nay, I vow . . . ’ ”
Holy shit! Were his lips trembling?
“ ‘To make dinner for you. Every. Damn. Night.’ ” He lowered his head. “Yes, it’s perfect. All right. I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
“If I could go back in time, I’d burn down that theater camp.”
“Wasted opportunities.” The guy winked. “Besides, you freaking love me. I saved your ass from a boring existence pining away after Colton these last four years.”
“Yeah.” She nodded sadly. “That’s true.”
My entire body froze, my heart shattered in my chest. She was sad. I’d made her sad. She’d done this because I was too afraid to speak up. Then again, Milo had really outdone herself to convince me she didn’t want me, but that didn’t matter. Her face fell as Max wrapped his arms around her in a gesture of comfort.
Screw that. Dragon slayer was back, and look, I actually had one to slay now—his name? Max.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
COLTON
No, flipping, freaking, bloody, damn way!
Hell.
Hell.
Hell.
That little brat!
It was a tie between wanting to strangle her with my bare hands and wanting to swat that tight little ass for putting me through twelve hours of hell. There I was, hiding beneath the stairs like some lovesick bastard and she’d been playing me the whole damn time! While I was elated that Max was nothing more than a friend, my fingers itched to do something violent as they shared an easy smile with one another and a parting hug. I’d been ready to go to PRISON over their kissing. I could have been someone’s bitch for no reason.
“Hey.” Jason came up behind me. “You okay?”
Pure evil filled me, and I didn’t bother to hide it. I smirked as I imagined all the hell I was going to put them through. “Oh, I’ve truly never been better.”
“You look homicidal.”
“I may be . . .” I said, my body humming with excitement. “You know we never fully congratulated the happy couple.”
“Huh?” Jason’s eyes pinched together. “What are you talking about?”
“Follow my lead.” I couldn’t have hidden the grin even if I’d wanted to.