Chapter 7

He laughs, leaning over the counter, his hands steepled under his chin. "That's the best part. I'll be the dreamy boyfriend that gets your mother off your back." He waggles his brows, proud of himself for coming up with this elaborate scheme. "By the time I dump you, your mother will be so caught up on the good child moving forward, and you'll be so distraught and a buzz kill she'll ignore you," he states bitterly. I flip him off, but he's right about Lani being the good kid out of us two.

I bite my inner lip, thinking it over. Max is practically a stranger but dead on about my mother and my sister. My mom won't know what to do about me being dumped, and will focus on Lani getting married rather than me. I could really use a break from her hassling me, and who knows, maybe if I'm not going on torturous blind dates the idea of dating might not sound so bad and I will find someone worth getting serious with.

I glance at Max, who is looking at me expectantly with those stormy blue eyes.

Even if I agree to do this, I suck at lying, and anything organized.

This is crazy. It will never work.

I've avoided weddings for the past year for a reason.

They make me wonder where the hell I went wrong with Jacob. I tell myself I've moved on, but I second guess that when I hear those goddamn wedding bells. They're like alarms now, telling me to run for my life or have your heart broken.

"I don't know," I whisper, standing from the stool. "What is your mother like?"

The idea of meeting his mother strikes fear up my neck. Jacob's mother never liked me, what if I have that effect on everyone's mother?

"She's southern, sassy, and a bit of a snob. But if you get on her good side she will go to the end of the earth for you," he explains. My jaw drops in disbelief, my eyes as wide as saucers. My mother gives better descriptions of her blind dates! Max couldn't lie to me and tell me she's wonderful? A fucking peach off the tree? How does he think she'll ever like me?

"Yeah," I laugh half-heartedly. "Your mother will never approve of me, trust me. I just pulled a bucket worth of popcorn out of my bra an hour ago." I cross my arms, dead serious. His eyes set on my chest, and my nipples suddenly ache from the attention. I look down and spot a piece of popcorn sticking between my boobs.

I pluck it out, holding it in my palm. "See!"

He grabs me by the wrist, the stale popcorn falling to the floor. The contact combusts an unbelievable rush that spreads up my arm from the simple touch, enough to make me pull from his grip. Not familiar with the way my body is reacting to him. I rub my wrist, eyeing him warily.

"I've seen you cleaned up. We'll make it work, Rae. Just save me, for the love of God, I cannot go through another blind date of my mother's." He clasps his hands together like he's praying, the look on his face so serious I can't help the smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth.

It's no wonder he's good with the ladies, he's very persuasive.

"It's so not funny," he states dryly. I cover my mouth to keep from laughing, but it's no use. I'm not laughing at him, more at I know exactly how he feels than anything.

"I'll think about it," I say softly and his shoulders relax. I turn to walk out and I notice his eyes flashing with alarm.

"Wait, when will you tell me?" He follows. Head down, I don't look back because I might just say yes without thoroughly thinking this through.

"Good bye Max!" I raise my hand as I head to work.

***

Rae

Gripping the syringe that is filled with yellow goop I pry the mouth of the trembling Chihuahua open, and quickly press the tip into the corner of his mouth, quickly pushing the plunger. The dog instantly starts licking and trying to chew, his legs shaking like he's in Alaska rather than a veterinarian's office in the middle of summer in Nashville.

"Wait, is this the guy you ran away with on your wedding day? The guy that had you getting that stupid pineapple tattoo?" Quinn asks, putting on some rubber gloves.

"Yes, it's the same guy, and Max didn't have me get any tattoo. I got the tattoo because of the meaning." I grab a rubber glove and sling shot it at her, slapping her upside the head. "And it's not stupid, your snake tattoo is stupid," I retort. Those words about how a pineapple's skin is tough and prickly, protecting its inner heart stuck with me. To be honest... Max stuck with me.

"Mhhmm. So are you going to do it, are you going to be a fake couple?" Quinn questions as she pulls the thermometer out of a pup's butt. If any guy saw her do that with such grace, they'd run for the hills. Then again, she's the epitome of beauty. They'd probably want her to stick something in their ass. She's taller than me, creamy skin with freckles and red hair. I think it's her blue eyes that bring men to their knees though.

I sigh, scratching the little ankle biter under the chin. "I don't know. It all seems silly to me. I don't even know him," I reply.

"I just did a background check, and I think you totally should," she informs, phone in hand.

I frown. "Background check?" How did she do that?

"Facebook stalk, same thing." She throws her hand at me, before popping the blue gloves off her hands and tossing them in the trash.

I nod. Touché.

"Besides, if you don't, you know your mother is going to push man after man in your face, and one of those times you're going to give in and fall for a man that is just like Jacob, who is totally not your type," she rambles without shame. "Then you're going to change, trying to fit to his standards which means they won't like me obviously, because I'm fun." She tilts her head with a shrug, a playful smile on her face.