Innuendos (It Had 2 B U Book 1) (29 page)

Maggie frowns. “Wow, and what happened after?”

“Travis showed up. She disappeared. Next thing I know she’s all happy because he wants to work things out with her. She told him she loved him. She’s never said that to me before, not even joking. Our whole relationship is one-sided, and I’m done. I’m done making my life revolve around a woman who doesn’t even feel the same about me.”

“Maybe she will come around?”

“No, she’s happy with Travis. She doesn’t even care that I’m gone,” I reply miserably. Just the words coming out of my mouth feel like sharp little daggers.

“I’m sure that isn’t the case.”

I’m about to answer her when Dashawn comes bursting through the front doors with a gigantic smile on his face.
At least someone is happy
. He runs over to Maggie and picks her up off the treadmill, lifting her like she’s made of air and not two hundred pounds. She giggles as his mouth smashes against hers.

“I did it, Baby! They approved the loan!”

“That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you,” she exclaims, kissing him again.

“Loan?” I question, breaking up their happy little celebration.

“Yeah, dude, a loan! Actually, I was going to talk to you about it. I’ve been thinking about opening up my own gym, but I really want a partner. The idea of running an entire gym all by myself is scary. I was hoping maybe you would be interested. I’d understand if you’re not.”

“Your own gym? Wow, that’s incredible! Let me think about it and get back to you, okay? How much money would I need to invest?” I have a small fortune building in my savings account. I was actually hoping to buy a house with it. Now that I don’t have Breezy, buying a house seems like that last thing I want to do.

“Like forty-thousand. That’s how much I have saved up. That’s if you want to be a fifty-fifty partner. The bank approved a loan big enough to buy that big warehouse over on Sunset and equipment to fill it up. I’m thinking about building an indoor track as well, and pool.”

“Wow, that sounds amazing. Do you really want me to be your partner?”

“Max, besides me, you’re the best trainer in Miami. I’m not saying that to get you to agree. I’m saying it because it’s the truth. Think about it; that’s all I’m asking.”

“Okay, I will.” Forty thousand is about half of what I’ve saved over the years. I started saving money when I was sixteen. Slowly it’s built into an eighty-thousand dollar slush fund. My parents don’t even know about the money I’ve saved up over the years. No one has—not even Breezy. I kept that little bit of information a secret. If my mom knew I could afford an apartment right now, she’d kick me out. The truth is, I’m so miserable about living without Breezy that I kinda want my mommy. I need companionship; living alone would only depress me further.

Dashawn takes over Maggie’s workout, and I start to head to the office. I need to be by myself where nothing can remind me about Breezy. As I am turning the corner, I smack into someone.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say before seeing who it is.

“Max!”

Holy shit, it’s Travis
. What the fuck is he doing here?

“What do you want?” He’s the last person, besides Breezy, that I want to see.

“It’s Breezy. . .” Travis says sadly.

All of the sudden, my stomach plummets. The way he’s frowning, the look in his eyes, the way his voice sounds—something is wrong. Something is wrong with Breezy.

“What’s wrong?” There’s a break in my voice. If something horrible has happened to Breezy, I will never forgive myself.

“I don’t know. She’s like catatonic.”

“What do you mean?” I run my hand over my hair, and it takes everything I have not to run and find Breezy.

“She hasn’t eaten in six days, she hasn’t taken a shower, and she barely moves. She’s curled up on the floor of your old room and just cries. All day long she’s crying. I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried to make her feel better. I’ve tried to get her to move. I want to make her smile, but I don’t know how. She’s completely broken, and I have no idea how to put her back together.”

Holy fuck! I did this to her. My departure has made her revert back into that state she was in when her parents died. This isn’t what I wanted to happen. I wanted her to be happy. Leaving was supposed to make her and Travis stronger. It wasn’t supposed to break her.

“Why are you telling me this? I don’t talk to her anymore.”

“What? Why?” He asks confused.

“Because you were right . . . I’m in love with her. I can’t sit by watching her be in love with someone else, so I stepped back so you two could be together.”

Travis looks shocked and a little angry, but I don’t care. He needs to know why she’s spiraling.

“She’s not my responsibility anymore, Travis. You’re going to have to figure out how to make her happy on your own.” I begin to walk away when I feel his hand on my shoulder.

“I know you care about her. You know how to fix this. Please, Max, all I want is for her to be happy. Tell me what I need to do to fix her.”

Ugh, why do I have to be such a nice guy? He’s right, I do care about Breezy. I know if I don’t tell him how to fix her, she would let herself wither away. Breezy hasn’t fully recovered from the loss of her parents. The only reason she pulled out of it was me.

“Please, Max, help me.”

He looks distraught. I can see the sadness and worry in his eyes. As much as I hate him, I hate knowing Breezy is hurting more.

“Fine, you want to bring her out of this funk, then this is how you do it . . .” I let my voice trail off and take a long deep breath. “You have to go to the store. First you need popcorn and six bags of plain M &M’s. You’re going to mix the two together in a large bowl.”

“That sounds disgusting,” he grimaces.

“It’s actually quite tasty. Then you’re going to buy two pints of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. Make sure you get two because Breezy won’t share.”

“A pint? Seriously?”

“Two pints,” I tell him. I’m starting to get annoyed.
Does he want my help or not?
“You need to rent or buy a chick flick or romantic comedy and have it playing before she gets out of the room. She’s seen almost all of them, but that new Sandra Bullock one she hasn’t.”

His face contorts in an awkward way. “Okay, a chick flick. What if I get an action comedy instead?”

“It has to be a chick flick. Breezy doesn’t like blood and gore or lots of action like that.”

He groans, “I hate chick flicks.”

“Dude, sometimes you have to sacrifice your man card for the greater good. Females will love you for it, especially Breezy.”

“Fine, I’ll rent a chick flick. Anything else?”

“The most important thing—you’re going to have to sing and dance.”

“What? Hell no.”

“Do you want her out of that room or not?” I ask angrily.

“Well, yes, of course I do.”

“Then you’re going to have to do exactly as I tell you; otherwise, you’re on your own.”

He pouts. “Fine, is there a certain song and dance I need to do?”

“Song.
Barbie Girl
by Aqua.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! There’s absolutely no way I’m rocking out to
Barbie Girl
.”

“Then you won’t get her out of the room. It’s our song. If you play it, she will come.”

“You did not just quote the
Field of Dreams
.”

“Look, Travis. You’re starting to piss me off. I’m trying to help you out here. If you want to get Breezy out of her room, that’s how you do it. Take it or leave it. Now if you excuse me, I have a five o’clock appointment.” I really don’t. All I want is for Travis to get out of my face. The more I look at him, the sadder I get.

“Okay. Thanks for all your help, Max. If this works, I’m in your debt forever.”

“Whatever,” I grumble. “Do me a favor.”

“What’s up?”

“Treat her like she deserves to be treated. I may not be her friend anymore, but I still care. If you hurt her, cheat on her, or break her in any way . . . I’ll hunt you down and stuff your balls down your throat until you choke on them. Capiche?”

“Got it,” he says gulping loudly.

I turn and start down the hall again.

He shouts after me. “I’m going to ask her to marry me. I plan on spending the rest of my life with this girl.”

I stop dead in my tracks. Hearing those words uttered from his mouth are like rusty razor blades against my skin—sharp and slowly killing me. I can’t bring myself to turn around, nor can I muster any words to say back to him. I keep walking until I get to my office, sit in my chair, and completely fall apart.

I’m the one who is supposed to marry her. Not him.

Chapter Thirty

Breezy

Life simply does not exist without Max.

I’ve come to that conclusion as I lie here on the seventh day without him. I’ve barely slept. I haven’t eaten. All I do is cry and mourn the loss of my best friend. Why is losing him making me feel so empty? People stop being friends all the time. I shouldn’t feel this wrecked about losing Max. I don’t understand what’s going on with my feelings here. This is beyond sadness, beyond loss. This is something totally different. I’m not sure what to call it. The pain I feel hurts all the way to my core. I’m numb and breathless, broken and weak, cold and alone. Even when I lost my parents, I didn’t feel the way I do now. Why is losing Max slowly killing me? He’s my best friend, my crutch, my rock. I shouldn’t be having these feelings, not with him.

I’m not in love with Max. I can’t be. I’ve never even thought of dating him before, and yet, that night we slept together, everything felt right. It was like I was made for Max, and he was made for me. All I felt the next morning was confusion. During the actual deed, I almost said I love you like five times. I held it in, knowing perfectly well everything I was feeling would go away the moment I woke up. The funny thing is, it didn’t. I still felt Max’s lips. I still felt him inside me. I still felt closer to him than I ever have before . . . that is, until Travis showed up and my head started working again.

Even having Travis here isn’t working for me. Ever since the third day of Max’s departure, he’s been here. I think he stole my key, so he could get in and out—not that I really care. I’m pretty sure I don’t have a job anymore, and really, without Max, I feel like I don’t have much of a life either.

It must be getting close to dinner time. My stomach is growling like crazy. I know eventually I’m going to have to eat something, but I’m stuck in zombie mode and refuse to move.

I want Max. I want to see his smile and hear him laugh. I want to cuddle on the couch and fall asleep in his arms. I want to dance and sing stupid pop songs with him while we look like total idiots. I want to gorge myself on popcorn and M & M’s, cookie dough ice cream, and whip cream in a can. I want my best friend back. No, scratch that. I
need
my best friend back.

Suddenly, a very familiar sound plays from the living room. “Hi Barbie,” the song says. My heart speeds up, the frown on my face disappears, and a foreign smile edges across my lips.
He’s here! Max is here!
My aching limbs scramble to get me upright. I know I look like hell. I’m in the same clothes I was in three days ago. I know I smell like a dumpster, but nothing, not even my garbage can smell, is going to keep me from throwing my arms around his thick neck and never letting him go. Like Bambi learning to walk, I steady myself. My legs are pins and needles, shooting with that uncomfortable pain you get when your foot falls asleep. I toddle to the door and throw it open, ready to assault Max with my offending odor and anorexic new body.

“Max?” I screech happily.

I see on the table that there is a bottle of whip cream, a bucket of microwave popcorn mixed with M &M’s, and two pints of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. The new Sandra Bullock movie is playing on the television, and Aqua is blaring loudly from our sound system. I’m smiling so big my face hurts. I haven’t used any of my muscles in days—especially the muscles that control my mouth. I look around excitedly, hoping to get a glimpse of the man responsible for rousing me out of Max’s room. Then I see him coming out of the bathroom. I blink twice, wondering if this is some sick, sadistic, fucked-up dream.
Not Max. It’s Travis. What the fuck! Where is my Max?

Travis seems too excited to see me. He smiles proudly and takes a step towards me. I take two gigantic steps away from him. He frowns.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks confused. How can he not see how fucked up this is? This is my thing with Max! This is what Max does to make me feel better. How dare he encroach on that sacred bond between us!

“Where’s Max?” I yell.

“He’s not here,” Travis says in shock. “Why do you look so mad right now?”

“He should be here—not you. This is what Max does for me to make me feel better.”

“I know, he told me.”

Now I feel like the wind has been sucked from my lungs. Max told Travis how to make me feel better? Max siphoned his responsibility off onto someone else.
Wait a second. Why did I think that?
Why would I be Max’s responsibility? Max is my friend. To make me happy should only be the responsibility of the man I’m romantically involved with, which is supposed to be Travis.

I stare at Travis for a long time. He’s standing by the couch, looking incredibly handsome in his blue jeans and grey polo shirt. His blonde hair is messily askew on his head, and those sexy blue eyes of his are watching me like I’m about to explode. Why am I not running towards him and throwing myself into his arms like I should be? Then it hits me.