Shit!
“Helena, please open the door. I’m an ass. I shouldn’t have laughed, but you got to admit…it was kinda funny.”
My chest tightens as I hear a sniffle from the other side of the door. Oh man. I run a hand through my hair in helplessness. This went a whole other way in my head. She would open the door, see the pizza in my hands, and smile at me. She’d tell me she was starving and that I was her hero. We’d go inside, talk and bond over pizza, and then every time we’d eat pizza together, we’d smile at each other knowing our entire friendship began with our favorite savory baked good.
Really, universe, would it kill ya to make to me her pizza hero? I’m not asking a lot here.
I hear her shuffle away from the door and I quickly knock again. “Helena, cupcake, I really am sorry. Please, open the door. At least let me help clean up.” My forehead hits the door with a dull thud. I close my eyes and hear another sniffle. “Please, don’t cry. You’re breakin’ my heart over here.”
I wait a little while longer, but she’s gone. Probably to shower.
Helena’s hot little body in the shower. Soaking wet. Droplets sluicing down her body. Her nipples beaded, and…
Fuck, brain, you dirty fucker.
I know.
I mentally high-five my brain. So does my semi.
My mind works overtime thinking of ways I can fix what I just messed up with Helena. If we’re going to be a part of the same friendship group, for the sake of everyone else, we need to find a way to get along. If it were up to me, we would get along, but I have a feeling Helena is the type to put up a fight.
I smirk. She won’t win, however hard she fights. But something tells me she’s worth the battle.
***
Nat
Max walks back into the apartment with an empty plate and looking mad.
Uh oh.
I stand and walk over to him. “What did she do?” I’m going to bitch slap her. Seriously.
He open his mouth to speak, then closes it. He makes another attempt, then another. Finally, with a sigh, he asks, “If Helena were mad at a guy,” he cringes, “what would said guy have to do to get in her good book?”
My eyes narrow dangerously. My teeth gritted, I hiss, “What do you do?”
He chuckles nervously and rubs the back of his neck.
I’m going to bitch slap him.
Seriously.
***
Helena
I can’t stop laughing at the look on Max’s face when the pizza splattered all over me.
Tears prickled my eyes and I thought about crying, but when he snorted, it was hard to not laugh. But I hid it. I had to shut the door that very second, because if I didn’t, I would’ve lost it in a fit of hilarity. I couldn’t let him see me laugh. That would not flatter my stone-cold bitch act.
And the way he calls me cupcake…Gah!
I snuggle into the covers…the covers Max had been sleeping on not hours ago. “The guy sure is something else,” I whisper into the dark.
My brow furrows as a thought crosses my mind.
Why is he trying so hard?