I narrowed my eyes at her. “I suppose.”
“You suppose? Oh, honey, don’t downplay how far you’ve come. You worked so hard to overcome your . . . addiction.”
Her mother choked on her tea. I closed my eyes to stay calm.
One of Max’s hands was curled into a fist on the table, and I covered it with my own. I turned to her parents and put on my best smile. “Max likes to exaggerate. She thinks it’s funny.” I shot her a look and searched for an excuse that would smooth things over with her parents. I looked at her father, whose eyebrows had drawn together in a suspicious ridge. He was wearing an OU T-shirt, which gave me the only idea I had. “The addiction Max is talking about really isn’t that big of a deal. I used to spend a lot of time playing fantasy football, an unhealthy amount really. Max hated it, but I’ve managed to cut it out.” I could feel her urge to roll her eyes, but she kept her tight smile. I returned it and said, “For her.”
It was a thin excuse, but I was banking on the South’s universal love of football.
Mrs. Miller said, “Forgive me, but I’m so confused. I thought you’d only been together a few weeks?”
I opened my mouth to lie again, but Max beat me to it.
“Oh, we have,” Max said. “Cade was head-over-heels for me a long time before that though. He just kept asking and asking and asking me to go out with him. It was a little creepy at first.”
I gave her a grim smile. “I am persistent.”
Her dad said, “And we sure are glad. We were beginning to think Max would never meet someone.”
Max frowned and added, “It did get kind of obnoxious there for a while. Almost disturbing. You were practically stalking me.”
Her dad finished his last slice of turkey and said, “Don’t mind her. You have my permission to stalk her anytime.”
Max closed her eyes and whispered under her breath, “Unbelievable.”
I smiled and said, “Why don’t we take some pictures before dessert?”
18
Max
I excused myself under the pretense of freshening up for those godforsaken pictures, and fled to my room.
I swear this guy had to have like supernatural powers. He had that mind-control power like the people on The Vampire Diaries. Or some scientist had experimented on him as a child, and now he had, I don’t know, extra potent pheromones that bent other people to his will.
It would explain why he was so damn likable.
Stupid magic sweat.
I sighed and turned to close my door, but Cade slipped in before I could.
“You’re looking even angrier than usual, Angry Girl.”
This guy had the worst timing in the world.
I closed the door, and left him for the comforting expanse of my bed. Maybe I was still sleeping, and this all had been one horrible, confusing, awkward nightmare.
“What are you doing here?”
“Just visiting my sweet, loving girlfriend.”
I threw a pillow at him in lieu of a reply.
He caught it easily, and then leaned back against the closed door, staring at me. The guy was straight out of a preppy GAP catalogue.
And I liked it.
What the hell was wrong with me?
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked. “I can make an excuse.”
There was no way my parents would accept an excuse. My mother was like an octopus, and he was pretty damn wrapped up in her tentacles already. But his sincerity made something pinch in my throat, and I had to look away from him again. How did he always know exactly what to say?
Supernatural. Had to be.
“Max, it’s not worth it. Lying just puts off the inevitable. Sooner or later, they’re going to have to accept you the way you are.”
I laughed bitterly. “Well, they’ve gone this long without accepting it. I’m sure they could squeeze in another twenty-two years.”
I heard the floorboards creak as he walked toward me.
“Max . . .”
I sat up and swung my feet over the other side of the bed, so that my back was to him. I’d already spilled enough of my secrets today. I wasn’t doing it again. And I needed to get this all under control before I snapped.
“It’s fine. We’ll just finish out dinner, and then it will be over. I’ll tell them in a week or two that we broke up. They’ll get over it.”
Doubtful. Something told me I’d hear about Cade as the “one that got away” for the rest of my life.
He said, “Just tell them I chose fantasy football over you. Your dad seems like the kind of guy that would buy that.”
“How flattering.”
He laughed, “You know I’d always choose you over football, Max.”
I looked at him over my shoulder and asked, “Are you sure you’re from Texas?”
He smiled and said, “Truce?”
I nodded.
He threw the pillow he was holding, and it nailed me right in the face.
“Now, a truce.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Stalker.”
“Liar.”
“Jerk.”
“Loving girlfriend.”
“You suck at insults.”
“You cringed when I said loving, so it counts.”
“Golden Boy.”
“Angry Girl.”