Becoming His by Mariah Dietz

As planned, I don’t see much of Max the next day so I can ensure that everything’s ready for the party. Sharon offers to run interference first and takes him out for breakfast. After that, it’s up to Jameson and Wes to keep him busy until seven when we’ll be meeting to have dinner while forty something people gather in his house.

I head back to San Diego early with Kendall, who helps me hang streamers and balloons, along with multiple happy birthday banners, and confetti. We set up the tables that we’d rented, stocking them with alcohol, cups, napkins, and plates. I’d ordered party platters filled with sandwiches that Jesse and Abby will pick up, along with the sheet cakes.

I’m a bundle of nerves as we sit at the restaurant waiting for the boys. I’m realigning my silverware when Kendall grabs my hand within hers. “He’s going to love it. Everything is going to be fine. Just take a deep breath.”

My eyes dart to her piercing blue ones heavily shadowed with charcoal gray and force a nod as I take an audible breath that doesn’t seem to fulfill my need for air. Breathe is starting to become my life mantra since I met Max.

When the guys arrive, they’re all looking comfortable and relaxed, laughing over something as they follow the hostess to our table. Kendall squeezes my hand in a silent assurance as we stand up to greet them. Max wears a fitted long sleeve white shirt with thin gray stripes and a pair of jeans with some black dress shoes. It’s understated and casual, but he makes it look sexy and classy with his confident grin and posture.

His eyes light up as our gazes meet. I watch his eyes drink me in, trailing over the dark gray satin dress that goes over a single one of my shoulders and dips down on the other, ending tightly at my mid-thigh.

“Hey, beautiful.” Max cups the back of my exposed neck and leans forward kissing me.

Max’s phone rings as we crowd around the table.

“Hank,” he says quietly.

His face looks uncertain. I place my hand on his forearm and smile, nodding my head to the front of the restaurant. He grins at me before lifting the phone to his ear and heading back to the front. I offer him a giant smile before we continue outside.

 

“Alright, birthday boy, would you like to ride in their chariot or mine?” I ask, gesturing between Wes’s SUV and my car as we make it out to the parking lot after finishing dinner.

“I’ll ride with you,” he answers wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “I’ll see you guys at the house.”

“Why don’t we go get ice cream?” Max suggests.

“Because that’s my favorite dessert, not yours and this is your day,” I reply, getting in the driver’s seat. “Plus I have a dozen more crème brûlées waiting for you at home.”

“The next one I eat is going to be poured over you,” Max says as he leans toward me. His hand runs up my thigh as his mouth goes to the spot beneath my ear that he knows drives me crazy.

I drive a little slower allowing Kendall and the guys a chance to ensure that everything’s in place. Max is plenty distracted with trying to distract me that if he notices, he doesn’t complain, or thinks it’s his own doing.

When we pull up to his house I’m thoroughly impressed that no one’s parked in front of the house or anywhere close by to make it obvious that a houseful of people are awaiting him. Only his Jeep and Wes’s SUV are in the driveway. My heart beats almost violently in my chest as the cool night air washes over me. Max meets me at the front of my car and takes my hand in his as we make our way the few steps to the front door.

“I say we make this a Bourne night,” he says, tucking me under his arm, “We’ll bring some crème brûlée upstairs and end this day like it began.”

“That sounds perfect,” I say, trying to contain my laugh from the fear bubbling inside of me. Oh please, oh please, oh please enjoy this, I pray as Max reaches for the door.

I take a deep breath as he pushes the door open and step into the dimly-lit house behind him. I instantly know that Kendall must have really put some threat behind this, because it is eerily silent.

The lights flip on and dozens of people jump out yelling “surprise” and cheering. I turn to watch Max and see his face light up with recognition as the crowd begins to close in around us.

“How in the hell did you pull this off?” Max asks, turning to catch my relieved smile as a guy that I’ve never seen encases him in a giant hug and hands him a drink greeting him before a few more people wrap him in hugs and deliver birthday wishes.

Max turns and searches through the crowds until he finds where I’ve retreated beside Abby, Jesse, and Wes. Before anyone else is able to approach him, he makes his way to me and captures my lips with his in an intense, masterful kiss that leaves me slightly breathless before wrapping me into his chest.

“How did you do this?” he asks, pulling me back as his eyes dance over my face, a look of awe upon his face.

“I had a lot of help,” I reply, glancing over to our friends. “Some inside help.” I wink at Wes as he takes a step closer to us and hugs Max.

Abby hugs him next as Wes drapes an arm around my shoulder. “You did good.” His voice is warm as he squeezes my shoulder and pulls me closer to him.

“I couldn’t have done this without you. Thank you!” I wrap an arm around Wes’s lower back as Max is engulfed by the crowd once more.

“Come on, I want you to meet everyone!” Max says, reaching over and taking my hand. He tugs me forward and I look back to see Wes talking to Abby as Jesse makes his way to the kitchen. I wave with my hands to indicate I’ll be back.

The party is in full steam. Everything seems to be running smoothly, and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. I make my way over to Kendall and Abby, accepting a drink from Jameson, as I look out to find Max talking to a group of guys that look vaguely familiar.

“Thank you guys so, so much! This would not have happened without you all,” I say, trying to profess my gratitude as I hug each of them.

“Excuse me. Do you guys know where the birthday boy is?” I turn to face a bleach blonde, wearing the dress from Roger Rabbit. My eyes quickly travel over her, noting the cheap pair of plastic looking pumps that sort of throw me because neither her dress nor her chest appear cheap.

I take a deep breath and try to refrain from thinking more judgmental thoughts as my eyes go back into the crowd in the direction of where Max had been moments ago and find that he and the group he’d been with have moved on.

“Sorry, I’m not sure where he went,” I say, returning my eyes to meet hers.

“If you see him tell him Lacey is looking for him.” Her voice is breathy, and her breath is saturated in sweetness.

My attention focuses on her too long eyelashes, which brush nearly halfway down her cheeks. Her makeup is heavy, but done in a way that it doesn’t make her appear trashy, but rather modern, expressing flair and expertise.

Although she’s heavily made over, it’s undeniable that she’s gorgeous, and I briefly wonder if one of the guys here hired her as a stripper as my eyes glance back to her large chest that looks almost obscene squished into the top of her dress.

“Sure, Lacey …” I reach for her last name, hoping it will be something like cupcake, candy cane, or some other stripperesque name.

“Trust me, he’ll know,” she says, looking down at my dress and frowning before walking away.

“Seriously, I think my head is smaller than one of her boobs,” Abby says, staring after Lacey.

I turn back to see Kendall shove Jameson as he watches her walk away. I try to push her words away like her shove, not wanting to focus on if he’ll know who she is as I tell them I’m going to go look for Max.

“Wait, you left this here this morning, and I didn’t want someone to take it or use it,” Abby says, fishing in her bra and producing my cell phone. I smile appreciatively at her as I take it and kiss her cheek.

“Thanks, Abs.”

I wander through the crowd of people that seem to be multiplying and find Jesse hanging out with a couple of guys that I know. I briefly stand around with them to catch up when it dawns on me: I heard the name Lacey a few months ago when Wes had come over and we played drinking games. He’d been speaking to Max as I lay on the couch, ready to fall asleep. I’d only caught small bits, but I specifically recall hearing her name. Relief floods me as I assure myself she must be here for Wes.

I quickly excuse myself with the intent of seeking out Wes to confirm my suspicions and make my way to the kitchen where people mill around, drinking.

A large guy that has a crazy red beard is in the midst of a story that grows in volume as I approach. His arms fly out as he gets to a climactic moment, swiping a full cup of beer across the counter.

I quickly grab a roll of paper towels from under the sink and mop it up as a few people offer to help. I decline with a smile as I quickly clean it up and move to collecting some abandoned cups to toss in the garbage as well. As I return the paper towels, a flash of red out the kitchen window catches my eye and I straighten to see what’s going on.

My body stops as my eyes focus on the backyard. Lacey is walking across the yard. I’d intentionally left the lights off out there so people didn’t go outside and wake up any of the neighbors, but the lights from the street lamps and the neighbor’s back lights provide enough of a glow that I can clearly make out Max standing to the side of the house nearest the fence with his hands clasped, resting on the top of his head as he watches her approach him.

She places a hand on his chest and the party fades out. A stabbing sensation occurs in my own chest in the same spot her hand touches his. Max doesn’t move, but I can see him say something to her that makes her smile, intensifying my pain.

My heart races as the rational part of my brain demands for me to do something—open the window and say something, call him, look away, do anything but stand here like a statue and watch whatever this is—but my body feels as though it’s encased with lead as I watch her press herself against his larger frame and kiss him while Max stands there, not pushing her away or stopping her.

The self-preservation in me thankfully awakens, and my body spins around and falls against the sink. I feel immobile as my chest begins to throb with a foreign sensation I’ve never experienced. A loud clattering sound breaks me from my trance, and I look down to see my cell phone spinning on the floor a few feet from where I lean clutching my chest. I take a deep breath, feeling the hot pooling of tears in my eyes as I bend down to retrieve it.

I fight to keep my composure as pain inflicts my every thought. I need to get out. Get out of this house, out of these clothes, just out.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” I look up to see Kendall striding toward me with concern carved across her face.

I shake my head and her eyes grow as she gets closer and wraps an arm around me. “Ace, you’re freaking me out. What happened?”

“I just saw Max kissing someone,” I whisper. “I need to get out of here.” I look into her eyes to convey the need that I feel, and she instantly nods and peers around the room with a look of anxiousness.

“Who was it?” I shake my head.

“Does it matter?”

“I’ll go with you.”

“I need to find my keys and my purse,” I explain, feeling myself unraveling.

“Hey, Ace, do you want to do cake soon? I think we should probably do it before people drink much more. Otherwise, I fear what people will do with it.” I turn to see Wes and feel a couple of traitor tears slide down cheek.

I brush them away with the back of my hand and try to make it look like I’m simply smoothing my hair as I clear my throat, trying to keep it together. “That’s probably a good idea. They’re all in the fridge. You want to get it all set up?”

“What’s wrong?” Wes asks, not accepting my act. “Did someone say or do something to you?”

I shake my head, feeling the tears growing in my eyes with the sympathy he’s giving me. “I just need to go.” I drop my gaze.

“I’ll find your purse,” Kendall says. “Go outside. I’ll be there in just a second, okay?”

I nod and keep my head lowered as I make a beeline for the front door. My mind replays the sight of Max and Lacey again and again as I travel the short distance to my car. Self-preservation loses to the analytical part of my brain that continuously bitch slaps me with the images.

“Ace, what’s going on?” I hear Wes following me and pray he’ll stop as I break through a final group and make my way outside. I don’t bother confirming if he’s following because I’ve lost my composure. Hell, I’m barely standing.

I place my hands on the hood of my car and let my head hang as I hear the clear indication of Wes following me.

“You’re scaring me, Ace,” he says softly as he gently wraps an arm around my shoulders and somehow maneuvers me so I’m facing him. I don’t fight him until he tries pulling me closer to him. Keeping my tear-clouded gaze focused on the driveway, I take a step back. “Come on, I’ll take you home. When you’re ready to talk—”

I shake my head before he can finish. “You should stay.” My voice is thick with tears, and I sniff as my nose begins to run, wiping at the tears that have my face hot and sticky.

“Ace, I’m not leaving you here like this.”

“I’m fine.” The words come out loud and aggressive as I finally look up to see him. I know that the anger I’m feeling isn’t being appropriately directed, but I can’t seem to stop. Wes doesn’t flinch at my outburst. Instead, he takes a step closer and watches the tears coat my cheeks, looking like my pain is causing him to hurt as well.

“What’s going on, Ace? You can tell me. Do you need me to get Max?” He takes another step closer, and I lift my hand for him to stop.

“Max and I …” I start, but my throat swells with tears, preventing me from finishing my sentence. I squeeze my eyes closed and shake my head.

“You’re kidding!” he whispers, mirroring my anger.

I shake my head once, gulping a breath of air, and then turn my face to the sky. The new angle allows a new course for my tears to slide along my temples. “I saw him kissing some girl.” I wipe at the tears again in a futile effort. “I just need to get out of here.”

“Ace, he’s the biggest dumbass in the world,” he says adamantly, taking another step closer to me.

The mental image of her floods my mind, and I shake my head as more tears cloud my vision. “No, she’s beautiful,” I admit in a whisper.

Wes takes another step and envelops me in his arms. I know that the act is to console me, however, having one of my cheating boyfriend’s best friends be the one that comforts me at this moment just doesn’t seem appealing. I shove against his chest, forcing him to release his hold.

“Ace—”

Thankfully party sounds cut through the air and Kendall slides out the front door. She quickly closes it behind her and makes her way toward my car. She looks between us with concern before taking my arm and walking me over to Jameson’s car.

“I couldn’t find your purse. I’ll come back and get it tomorrow,” she explains, unlocking the passenger door for me.

I quickly climb in as Kendall slams the driver’s side door. She reaches over and grasps my hand in hers as we reverse out of the driveway. I clutch it tightly and sob the entire way to our apartment complex, where she helps me to her door.

Inside she hands me a set of pajamas, a clean towel, and a lingering hug before she reluctantly leaves me to shower. I quickly strip out of my clothes and stand under the hot water, hating how familiar this all feels.

Once my skin is red from the heat and the bathroom is filled with a hazy fog of condensation, I dress in Kendall’s pajamas and make my way to her room. She’s sitting on her bed, already showered and in a pair of pajamas, waiting for me. I want to apologize for taking so long and leaving her to use Shelby’s bathroom, but she stands up and wraps me in a hug, and my words instantly turn into tears as I come apart.

A couple of hours later a loud banging on the front door stirs us both from sleep. My eyes feel scratchy and dry from all of the tears, and my head has a sharp, stabbing sensation, accompanied by a dull, thudding pain that makes me wince as I move.

“I don’t want to talk to him tonight.” My voice is laced with desperation. Fresh tears somehow materialize, blurring Kendall as she flips off the bedroom lights and closes the door behind her.

“Where is she?” Even with the space between us, Max’s voice is loud and urgent.

“Max, you need to go home. There’s nothing to discuss tonight.” The politician side of Kendall takes control as I hear her calm and commanding voice.

“Where is she, Kendall?”

“She’s here, with me, but she doesn’t wasn’t to see you right now, Max.”

“I need to talk to her.”

“You should both sleep on this, go into it clearheaded.”

“Kendall, I need to talk to her!”

“Max, stop! Max! Get out!”

The lumbering of heavy footfalls tells me that he isn’t accepting her proposal to wait. The bedroom door swings open and the lights flash back on.

“Oh, babe.” Max’s voice sounds pained as he instantly makes his way to the bed with an outstretched arm.

I scurry off the bed and stand as far away from him as possible. “Get out, Max.” I demand, trying to sound fierce, but my voice is hoarse and thick with tears.

“Babe, please talk to me.”

I shake my head, making the throb intensify. “I have nothing to say to you, Max. You need to go.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I can’t do this,” I whisper.

“No, Ace, she’s nothing! Nothing!”

“I’m nothing!” The words leave me in a shriek. “I saw you! I saw you kiss her!”

Max’s face blanches. “I didn’t—”

“Go, Max.” I don’t bother with wiping my tears away; they’re coming so fast it would be a wasted effort. Plus, I don’t want to draw attention to my hands shaking like an addict experiencing withdrawals.

“Ace, we need to talk about this.”

“Go, Max,” I repeat.

He takes a couple of steps closer to edge of the bed and reaches out to touch me again. “Don’t touch me!” I snap, pulling away from him angrily.

He freezes and looks at me, panic stricken. I use his hesitation to walk past him and head to the bathroom. After locking the door, I sink to the ground, let my head fall to my knees, and cry.

A few moments later I hear Kendall and Max arguing in hushed voices.

A short time later the front door shuts, the lock turns, and I hear Kendall softly pad to the bathroom door where she quietly assures me that he’s gone.

The next day I feel and look like hell. Kendall makes me chocolate chip pancakes, but I have no appetite. She doesn’t bother asking for any additional details about what I’d seen. Apparently she’s pieced together enough of it with my screaming fit last night.

I had turned my phone off on our way home last night, but Kendall’s phone has been going crazy with calls and messages all morning. She silences it, not bothering to reply to any of them.

The following day I begrudgingly turn my phone back on so I can send a text to Abby so she doesn’t freak out since I haven’t been home. I ignore the multitude of messages that I see as it comes to life and quickly shoot her a text before turning it back off.

On Monday I still feel like hell, and I look even worse. Kendall still hasn’t spoken to anyone, refusing to answer Jameson’s calls even though I plead with her not to let my issues affect her relationship. I know she feels that he’s betrayed me, and by doing so, her as well.

We spend the day lounging around, still not showering as we wallow and watch chick flicks and barely speak. As our third movie of the day ends, I sit up and brush a hand over my hair, feeling the throb of my headache which has taken permanent residency since Friday night. “I need to go get my laptop,” I explain.

“At Max’s?” Kendall asks, already knowing the answer. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“Only if you want to talk to Jameson, otherwise you’ll just make me a bigger target.” I climb off the bed and straighten my clothes. “I’m hoping they’ll be at the gym or something.”

“It doesn’t make sense, Ace.”

“I know.” I drop back down beside her and put my head in my hands. “But it’s never made sense for Max to be interested in me. She looks like the girls that he’s always liked. I—”

“Don’t you dare doubt yourself! You are a hundred times more beautiful than that tramp!”

I know she’s lying, but I don’t bother calling her on it. What’s the point? I borrow a pair of Kendall’s flip flops and walk over to my apartment looking like a disheveled mess.

“Are you okay?” I inwardly groan hearing Nate’s voice as I climb the apartment stairs.

A humorless laugh slips between my teeth, my gaze stretched to the sky. “Peachy.”

“Ace, I’m serious. Are you okay?” He stops in front of me, blocking the stairs.

My attention snaps to Nate. “I’m fine! Get away from me,” I demand.

“I can help you.”

“I don’t need help! Especially not from you!” I slide beside him to continue up the stairs.

I quickly use Kendall’s spare key to unlock my apartment and disappear inside.

A note from Abby is on the fridge, asking me to call her. I know Kendall’s spoken to her, mostly via text, likely because she’s telling her what a wreck I am and doesn’t want to hurt my feelings.

I retreat to my room and take a shower, dissecting mine and Max’s relationship and looking for every minuscule crack. By the time that I’m dressed, I feel even worse.

I put away my hair dryer, which leads me to reorganizing all of my bathroom drawers.

An hour later as I finish reorganizing my bookshelf, I realize we still have Jameson’s car, and mine’s still there. They know that I’ll have to come back. I groan and drop back to my bed as I turn my phone on so I can tell Kendall that I’m coming over. As I do, my phone receives a message from Wes that I contemplate ignoring before I open it.

 

Wes: Acester I’m worried about u- I’m ur friend 2- please talk 2 me

 

Me: I’m good. I’ll see you tomorrow in class.

 

I quickly text Kendall and turn my phone back off.

I pull on some jeans, a sweatshirt, and my Converse as I repeatedly recite that this isn’t a big deal. Everything’s going to be fine.

But it is a big deal. It’s a very big deal.

After getting keys from Kendall, I sit in Jameson’s car, telling myself the plan. In and out. I can do this.

“I need to stop repeating mantras. This should be my new mantra,” I say to the empty car as I back out and head toward Max’s.

As soon as I pull up, the front door opens and my heart stops with anticipation. Thankfully it’s Landon and I open the car door. I know already from the inventory of vehicles in the driveway that Max is here, unless he took his motorcycle, which is always housed in the garage.

“What do you know, it’s a Bosse,” Landon says, taking a few steps toward me. “I was hoping you guys would show up soon so I could figure out what in the hell happened.”

I stop at the hood of the car, not certain of what he knows.

“Seriously, all hell has broken out in there. What’s going on?”

“What happened?” I ask, avoiding his question and feigning ignorance.

“Jameson is ready to kill Max, and Max hasn’t said five words since I’ve been home.”

I shake my head, giving him my best look of innocence. There’s no way I’m going to explain things. I’ll let Max take care of that. “I just came by to get my schoolbag and car,” I explain, taking a deep breath and heading to the front door as Landon walks to his car.

“Well if anyone can help get Max out of his mood, it’s you. I hope you fix him before I’m back.”

I offer a weak smile and open the door without bothering to knock, not wanting to draw attention to myself. I know I won’t get lucky enough to get in and out unnoticed, but a small piece of me hopes that it’s possible.

Guilt slowly fills my chest at the sight of the mess from the party debris. Half-empty cups, plates with encrusted crumbs, a stray flip flop, and random articles of clothes litter the house. I work to shove it down and focus on my reason for being here.

I slowly make my way upstairs and face Max’s closed bedroom door. I hadn’t even considered her being here. Would she be here? Shit, I can’t do this! I begin to turn around, but my foot snags on a stray shirt that I’d stepped over on my way here. My arm slams against the wall, making a ridiculous amount of noise as I work to right myself.

Max’s door flies open and he stands in his doorway, staring at me in surprise. I consider fleeing, the stairs are so close, but my keys, along with all of my school things that I need are in his room.

I stand straighter and square my shoulders. “I need my things.”

He swallows and then reaches down and grabs the loose shirt that I’d tripped on and tosses it over the railing before waving me into his room.

I have to mentally instruct myself to move and make my way by Max, barely brushing against his chest with my shoulder. The state of disarray his room is in catches me off guard. I’ve never seen his room anything but military clean, almost bare, yet today clothes are strewn everywhere and the pillows and comforter are tangled and wadded up on the floor. Nothing appears to have been broken, thankfully, but it amazes me how messy his room has become with such few items.

I take a few more steps inside and round the bed to find all my things are gone.

“Ace, I just need you to talk to me. You don’t even have to talk, you can listen and I’ll talk.”

“I’ll save you the trouble. You were drinking. She was hot. You kissed her. I know that there’s more, I know you’ve known her a while, but really I’d prefer to not know the details. In this case I think I’d prefer to be in the dark.”

“That’s not what happened!” Max cries, extending his arm and brushing his fingers against my elbow for an instant before I pull away and shoot him a glare.

“I watched! I saw you in the backyard. I saw her come over and shove her ginormous boobs on you and then watched you guys kiss. You kissed her, Max! I saw it! Don’t tell me that’s not what happened.” I’ve never been someone that raises my voice, but the words leave me at a yelling volume as I throw a pillow across the room.

“Ace, I … I need you to just listen to me for a few minutes, okay? Just hear me out.”

“Where are my things? I just need my laptop and my purse. The rest I couldn’t care less about.” I rummage through a pile of laundry, absently wondering once more how in the hell his room has become so messy.

“I’ve known Lacey since high school,” Max begins, and I shake my head violently, indicating for him to stop. “We used to date off and on.”

I place my hands over my ears. I know that the act is childish, but I can’t stop it. The idea of hearing about their past threatens to crush me.

“Just listen to me, Ace. I know how your mind works. You want to know every spec of information about things so you can overanalyze the shit out of them until you feel like you understand it. I’m trying to give you the pieces! I just need you to listen to me!”

“I don’t want to hear it! I feel like an idiot right now! And I hurt.” My voice cracks with my last admission, and I take a deep breath as the sadness begins to overshadow my anger. “I don’t want to know more, because I can’t take more right now.” My eyes drop from the ceiling to look at him for a fleeting second before they fall to the ground.

“I want to make it better!” Max pleads, quietly taking a cautious step toward me. “I’m going fucking crazy here trying to understand what happened and how to get you to understand it.”

“If you don’t understand it, do you really think I’m going to? When you told me that you wanted us to be close emotionally in case you did something to piss me off, this wasn’t the type of situation I had in mind. I told you, Max, I’m not this kind of person. If you wanted to make out with her, or do whatever in the hell else you did with her, then just respect me enough to end things.”

“Nothing else happened!” he yells. He takes a deep breath and hangs his head before I feel him looking at me again. “Ace, I’ve been honest with you from the beginning. I’m not lying to you when I tell you that I have no interest in her. At all. I have no interest in anyone besides you! I haven’t even looked at another girl!” I watch from the corner of my eye as he throws his hands up in the air and rakes them through his hair several times.

“I love you, Ace, and I know, I know that you love me. Please. Please, just let me explain!” I stop digging through another pile of clothes and turn my attention to him.

“I’ve known Lacey since I was sixteen. We dated off and on for a couple of years until I moved up to Alaska. She found out that I was home and stopped by in June. I hadn’t even seen you yet. You were still in France. When you and I started hanging out I was dating her. I tried ignoring you. I didn’t want to like you, but by then it was too late. We broke up at the end of June, long before you and I started dating because I knew I had feelings for you, and I knew that if I saw other people at the same time I’d screw things up.” Max pauses and looks at me for a response, and I feel steel walls erecting around me as I try to keep myself still and listen, looking unfazed.

“What about Felicia?”

“Felicia and I never slept together! I just needed a distraction from you. I explained this to you before we started dating. Then I gave you as much time as you wanted after you finally broke up with that fuck face, and during that time I didn’t see anyone else.”

I replay his initial statement, and the words hit me like a slap to my face. “You didn’t want to like me?” Before I can contemplate the reasoning, I begin mentally comparing myself to Lacey. I’m sure that anytime Lacey goes out, she’s put together, similar to my mom and sisters. I know the type well: hair, nails, and makeup pristine, always wearing cute and fashionable clothes that match her purse and accessories. I look down at my current sweatshirt and jeans and the tears begin to sting my eyes.

“No, I didn’t. You live next door to my mom, who’s best friends with your mom. And you’re smart, and funny, and fun as hell to hang out with. And you’re ridiculously gorgeous. Girls like you go off and date the Mr. Darcy’s of the world,” Max says, referencing Pride and Prejudice, which he’d endured watching with me just a few weeks ago with few complaints.

“I haven’t spoken to her since June, when we broke up.” I feel Max’s eyes on me, willing me to look up at him, but my tears threaten to fall and I really, really don’t want to cry here so I keep my eyes focused on a pile of clothes on the floor.

“I saw her at the party and told her to go outside so I could talk to her because I wanted her to get the fuck away. I didn’t want her causing problems between us.” He takes a step closer to me before he continues. “I told her that I had no interest in her anymore and that I was done.” Max stops and I hear him take a deep breath. “We used to do this thing in high school, that was so fucking stupid …” He pauses once more and without looking at him I know that he’s again running his hands through his short hair. “We used to do this game during the times we were broken up … which was a lot. If one of us wanted to get back together, instead of using our words—because we were shit with words—we’d kiss the other one to prove that we had an attraction. I know it’s fucking stupid, and I should have just walked away, but I wanted to prove to her that she means nothing to me. She kissed me, and I told her what I knew I’d feel before she did. I felt nothing because I love you.”

I don’t know what to think. I want to believe every word he’s telling me and pretend that none of this ever happened, but doubt is an ugly, bitter fog that is sometimes impenetrable. And right now that fog is thick and dense and is breaking my heart. Tears begin cascading down my cheeks before I can stop them in heavy trails. I slide to the floor and clutch a sweatshirt lying beside me to cover my face. Amazingly, I still have tears left to cry, enough that I begin to sob.

I feel Max’s arm wrap around my shoulders. At first I try to move away, but eventually I give up and allow him to hold me.

“Ace, I love you. I’ve never felt the way I feel about you about anyone else,” Max says softly as the tears slowly begin to recede. I sniff and wipe my face with his sweatshirt. My head throbs once again, and my eyes feel like sandpaper. I close them and the image of Lacey kissing Max instantly fills my mind. It’s been burned to the back of my eyelids since Friday.

“I need to find my school bag and purse,” I say in a small voice as I pull the sweatshirt from my face and stand up. As I do, I see the black strap of my purse near the corner of the bed. When I lift the clothes covering my purse, I discover my backpack as well, looking slightly smashed.

“Talk to me, Ace.” Max’s voice is a pleading whisper.

“I need to go, Max.”

“Stay, Ace. Just stay here,” he begs. “I just need you to stay with me. This running freaks me out.”

“Right now I just need to be alone.”

“I don’t want you to leave. I’m terrified that if you do, you’re going to go and think of every single reason you don’t think we’ll work and you’ll focus on those until you convince yourself that we can’t be together.”

I lift up his sweatshirt that I’d cried into and hold it out in front of me. “Consider this your collateral.”

I head to the door. I can’t make any other promises right now.

“Ace …” My name is a nearly plea on his lips.

“I just need some time, Max, and I really need you to respect that.” I turn and walk down the stairs with my bags and his sweatshirt in my arms, my face tight from crying again.

As I get halfway down, I see Jameson and Landon sitting silently in the living room, staring at me with a look of sorrow. I’m not sure if Landon heard everything. I thought he’d left, but regardless, their expressions confirm they heard enough.

None of us say a word.

Getting in my car, I slap on my sunglasses to hide my blotchy, tear-stained face and head back to my apartment.

I go to Kendall’s first. I don’t have any desire to share Lacey and Max’s past with her, but I want her to know that Jameson had no knowledge of the situation. She makes a few attempts to get me to discuss the details of my discussion with Max, but I dismiss them and insist she contact Jameson.