I can't stop myself. I roll my eyes and tease, "Would it kill you to stop the flirting?"

He actually looks confused. "What flirting?"

I smile harder, waiting for him to laugh, but his brow creases further. Oh Lord...he doesn't know. How do I broach this delicate subject? "Well, in the half-hour we've been together today, you've flirted...a lot."

He looks at me like I'm clearly seeing things. "What? No I haven't."

My smile falls away. "Yeah, you have."

"Nuh uh."

"Yah huh."

He sits straighter on the bench and holds his arms out in question. "When, huh?"

I return, quick as lightning, "First, with me in my kitchen, second, with the ladies on the street, and now, with Sh.e.l.ly." He snorts and I feel the need to add, "h.e.l.l, I don't even know what you said to her, but I can pretty much guarantee you were flirting with old lady Crandle too!"

He wears a look that says bless your heart little one and chuckles. "That's not flirting. That's being friendly."

Is he for real? I scoff. "No it isn't, Max! That's ridiculous."

He waves a hand in my direction dismissively. "That's just me being friendly. I'm a friendly guy, Lena."

I like that he called me Lena. A little too much. Which, of course, adds fuel to my fire. Invisible steam pours from my ears. My cheeks heat in frustration. "You're not friendly; you're a horn dog!"

Sh.e.l.ly comes by with our food and he gestures to her. "Perhaps we'll ask someone else, shall we?"

I nod. "By all means."

He asks Sh.e.l.ly, "Helena here thinks I'm a serial flirt. I'm trying to explain to her that I'm just being friendly, but she doesn't get it. What do you think, Sh.e.l.l?"

He lays on a million dollar smile and she looks at him a moment before her eyes narrow. She turns to me with a look that questions his sanity and whispers, "He doesn't even know, does he?" I shake my head, fighting a smile.

Max's smile fades. "What? Don't know what?"

Sh.e.l.ly places a hand on his shoulder in consolation and hits him with it. "Honey, she's right. You're a flirt." Shocked, he opens his mouth to protest, but she cuts him off. "That's not a bad thing, Max. You're good at making people feel comfortable with you, but I think if you'll look back, you'll find the majority of the people you befriend are, well, women." Sh.e.l.ly leaves us alone to eat our late breakfast. She squeezes Max's shoulder as she goes.

I don't feel very hungry. Victory leaves a sour taste in my mouth. "You okay?"

He nods, picking at his food. "I'm good." But it's a lie.

I don't know where the urge to make him feel better comes from, but I suddenly announce, "You know, I'm a terrible flirt." Max looks up at me, his face questioning. I nod. "Yeah. I'm not very good at it. At least, not when I try. When I don't try to flirt, I'm pretty d.a.m.n good at it." I nibble at my granola. "Maybe that's what's happening with you. Your subconscious is probably just a really good flirt, with mad skills it feels it needs to use, like, all the time."

He doesn't look placated, but his lip tilts up at the corner. "Mad skills, huh?"

I confirm, "Mad skills."

Then he smiles, obviously impressed with my efforts to cheer him up. "Maybe."

I smile in return and eat my granola.

"Helena."

Chewing, I look over at him.

He nudges my foot under the table. "Thanks."

I have no idea why I'm being thanked, but I'll take it. "You're welcome."

Chapter Twelve.

Max When I was in high school, I met Madeline Connolly. I was sixteen, stupid, and h.o.r.n.y. Most girls, back then, would try to get close to me to get to Nik. I could smell 'em a mile away. Honey-sweet voices and sticky fingers. But they normally had big t.i.ts and red, glossy lips. My sixteen-year-old self didn't give a s.h.i.t if they wanted Nik, as long as they'd put out.

See? Stupid.

One girl-I can't even remember her name-told me she was pregnant with my kid. She was my age. I remember laughing my a.s.s off...so hard I cried. With a stern face, she asked me why I was laughing, told me this was serious. She knew I had money. Everyone knew we had money. She told me to talk to my brother, and if I didn't want to marry her and take care of our kid, the Nik better, 'cause her baby needed a father.

A dangerous smile crossed my face. I stepped towards whatever-her-name-was and warned her, "I don't care what you do to me, but," my fists balled in anger as I snarled, "don't ever, ever, f.u.c.k with my brother." A look of fear crossed her face. I shook my head in disgust and started to walk away. A fair distance away, I called back, "Besides, sweetheart, you can't get pregnant from a b.l.o.w. .j.o.b."

This was a lesson to me. A harsh one, but a good one. That was the point I realized what lengths women could and would go to in order to tie a man down.

So one day, I'm at the library after school, working on f.u.c.k knows what. It was pretty much deserted, but I spotted this girl sitting at a desk with a s.h.i.tload of books in front of her. She looked panicked, overwhelmed by her workload. Dressed in a white tee and blue jeans, she stood in a huff and started stacking her books, slamming them one on top of the other. She was beautiful in a very tame way. With long, reddish-brown hair down to her waist and no makeup in sight, her cheeks flamed red, her blue eyes blazing. As she picked up her stack of books and turned, the top two books slid off.

I smirked. That was my cue. I rushed forward, picked up the books, and held onto them. The girl stood there, waiting for me to hand them to her, but I held them tight in my grip.

She huffed, "You can put them on the top."

I shook my head. "Nah, think I better walk you to your locker. In fact, I think I should carry all those books. You're a safety hazard, an accident waiting to happen." I ended on a grin.

Most girls would have laughed and let me carry their books, would've thanked me. They would've told me how funny I was and asked if I had a girlfriend. They would have flirted with me and given me an inch. Not this girl. Her cheeks turned even redder. She gritted her teeth. "Put the books on the top. Please."

But I didn't listen. I reached forward and tried to take her books. I grabbed them from one side, and she held firm on the other. I tugged; she tugged. She wasn't letting go, but neither was I. I pulled too hard, and her pile of books came crashing down.

I laughed. She did not. I felt the need to speak. "s.h.i.t, sorry. I'm Max. Max Leokov."

Eyes filling with tears, she knelt down on the ground and let me have it. "I know who you are. Why are you even here? I'm sure you could pay the teachers to pa.s.s you."

I tried to say sorry. "Let me carry your books as an apology. C'mon."

She stepped back, out of reach. "The pickings must be slim if you're coming on to me." She lifted her nose. "I've heard all about you, Max." She said my name like it tasted awful. "I'll tell you this once. I am not a bedpost notch. I am not a giggling idiot. I'm not one of the hundreds of girls at this school who want you."

She looked me up and down and shook her head in disappointment. Then she turned on her heel and walked out, leaving me standing in the library on my own looking like an a.s.shole. Which was fitting, considering I felt like an a.s.shole. Truth was, I hadn't even known who she was, and she was right. I had expected her to be a giggling idiot. I'd expected flirting, conversation, and maybe a b.l.o.w.j.o.b too, if I was lucky.

I grin. I was always lucky.

When I got home that night, I scanned a yearbook. I searched for over an hour until I found her smiling face looking back at me. I smiled right back at her. She was even more beautiful when she smiled. So I made it my mission. I would do what it took to make her smile, because I needed to see it in person.

It took weeks for this to happen. I stopped hooking up and made her my priority. There was just something about her, something that told me she would be worth it. The first thing I did was find out where her locker was. I had to follow her around all morning. She took her books out as the bell rang, and she headed off to cla.s.s. I could afford to skip. No one really knew it, but I was up-to-date with all my work and held an average grade of A-minus.

When the hall was clear, I got to work. Smiling like an idiot, I waited for the bell then hid behind a pillar, quietly watching. When she approached her locker, she paused mid-step. Placing a hand to her chest, she approached with caution. Students began to whisper and point, and I was glad for it. She would get the attention she deserved.

As she read the message, her eyes narrowed. She searched the crowd for a hint of who had done this. I stepped out of my hiding spot, leaning against the pillar with my hands in my pockets. Our eyes met. I smiled and lifted a brow. A look of surprise crossed her face, and her lips parted slightly. All I wanted to do was kiss those pink lips with a gentleness I had never shown a girl. I ached for her.

She looked back at her locker, uncertainty in her eyes. She read the message again.

Smart is s.e.xy.

Painted in yellow and lined with black, I hoped the message would stay up there forever as a reminder to her that she was exactly right. I was the a.s.shole, and she deserved better. So I would try to be better for her. I would be the person she deserved.

My sixteen-year-old self was in love. I felt it like a punch to the gut. It was love at first sight. I was sure of that. I had to have her.

The next day, I had a flower arrangement delivered to the school's office. I had Nik choose it for me. I was clueless that way. He said tulips were always good, but if I didn't want to scare her off, to get every color but pink and red. When I heard her name being called over the PA system, my hands started to sweat. I was nervous.

My nerves were eased when I saw her walking down the hall, smiling into her bouquet of tulips. Nik was right about the color thing. He chose yellow, white, orange, and purple tulips, and from the way she was smiling at them, I wish I'd done some research and picked them myself. I wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

I wanted to talk to her, but she was suddenly swarmed with a dozen whispering girls.

"Who are they from?"

"They're so beautiful!"

"Oh, man, you're so lucky!"

"Maddy, they're gorgeous!"

She lifted her head and looked right at me. A gorgeous smile crossed her face and she mouthed, 'thank you'.

My gut clenched from the beauty of that smile. I knew I was in deep s.h.i.t.

Later that night, she called. To say I was surprised was an understatement, because our number wasn't listed and I had no idea how she managed to get it. I was surprised, but overjoyed. We started talking every night, but avoided each other at school. She was still unsure of me. I would give her as much time as she needed. I lived to make her laugh, and I did. A lot.

We got to know each other and talked up until the early hours of the morning, or until one of us fell asleep. One night, about four weeks into our secret friendship, I went out on a limb. Lying in my bed, I whispered into the phone, "I would give anything to be your guy. I want you to be my girl, Maddy."

She hesitated. "What if it doesn't work out?"

I countered, "What if it does?" She remained silent. I all but begged, "Gimme a chance. One chance." Without answering me, she plead a headache and I let her go.

The next morning, I walked down the hall towards my locker. I was in a mood. I couldn't understand what more I could do to prove to Maddy I was serious about her. But I wouldn't give up. I packed my books inside and closed the door. As I turned, I stilled. There she was, right in front of me.

She looked scared. "Hi."

A small smile tilted my lips. "Hey. You okay?"

Breathing deep, she exhaled slowly, stepped forward, and placed her hand in mine. Our fingers entwined. I looked down at our intertwined hands and beamed. She answered with a shy smile, "Perfect. Everything's perfect."

Three weeks later, we shared our first kiss.

A year later, we made love.

Three years after that, Maddy told me I was going to be a daddy. It was love in its purest form.

Nine months later, I met the second love of my life. She came wrapped in a pink blanket. She had my eyes, but she was all Maddy. I named her for my mother.

In five years, my life was turned on its head. I would've done anything for Maddy, but she didn't feel the same. And that's why I don't ever want to fall in love again.

Love hurts.

Max I stroll across the street, making my way towards Safira. Doesn't matter how old I get, I'll still be Nik's little brother...and his lackey. Tina hates when Nik does this, but I come bearing gifts, so she'll get over it. It's Monday. Tina shouldn't be working at all. She's on maternity leave. I use that term loosely, because Tina's been on maternity leave for a month, but still goes to work every day.

Nik tells her to take it easy. She smiles sweetly up at him and tells him she will. He leaves for work, and she throws on a sa.s.sy outfit and heads over to her store. She's lucky she's hot.

I open the door and hold it open to let out a couple of young women. I smile hard. "Ladies, how you doing today? Looking good."

There you go again.

That wasn't flirting. It was being a gentleman.

...seriously?

Shut up, brain.

I back through the door, balancing the loot, and call out, "Good morning."

In unison, they all call back, "Morning!"

I place the stuff on the front counter and turn to find Tina waddling out of her office. Her eyes are narrowed and she has her cell to her ear. I grin. Ha-ha! Nik's gonna get it.

He must've answered, because she immediately starts, "Nik, baby, you want to tell me why I have a delivery here this morning, with Max being the deliveryman?" And even though she's p.i.s.sed at him, she takes a second to smile at me and mouth, 'hi'. That's just how she rolls. Tina is the s.h.i.t.

I don't hear what he says, but she responds an annoyed, "I don't need food. It's ten am, for Pete's sake! What are you trying to do, honey? Turn me into a whale?" I know the exact moment he gets sweet on her. Her shoulders slump and she sighs. "I know you want to take care of me. I love you too." She pauses, then lifts a hand to cup my cheek. "Yeah. I love Max too."

I lean down and kiss the top of her head. She wraps an arm around me and squeezes, then she's waddling back into the office.

Mimi appears behind me. She jerks a chin to the box on the counter. "More food?"

I grin. "Yep."

She shrugs then lifts the lid of the box, picking up a sandwich. "Don't mind if I do."

Lola walks down from the back of the shop, eyes wide in delight. "Are those free sandwiches?" Mimi chews while nodding. Lola makes a score motion in the air. "I love free sandwiches!"