“Huh?”

“You like her?” Max asked.

I was so shocked I almost dropped him. “Nope.”

“Oh.” He nodded. We were almost to the bedroom door. “It’s cool. I mean, what’s not to like? Killer body, beautiful smile, tight little ass—”

“Keep talking and I’m going to break your jaw.”

“A tiger in—”

I let my fist fly, knocking him off his feet and into the bedroom. He hit the floor with a thud. “I warned you.”

Max smiled through the blood running from his nose into his mouth. “Cute. Little. Ass.” He made a spanking motion with his hand. I saw red. As in completely lost my shit and charged toward him, only to hear Milo scream my name just as I was ready to land another blow to his face.

“Colton!” She wrapped her arms around my body and pulled me back. “What the hell are you doing?”

“He was—” I pointed at the bastard only to see him give her an innocent smile, then wipe his cheek. Holy hell, was he fake-crying?

“It hurts,” Max said with a pout. “Kiss it and make it better, baby?”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I muttered under my breath.

“Of course!” Milo released me and went to Max. “What happened?”

Max’s eyes gleamed. “I fell, Colton tried to catch me but he wasn’t fast enough. Weird, huh? It seems to be his thing. Not being first, not being fast enough . . . losing things.” Max’s middle finger saluted me as he gave Milo a tight hug.

“Just stay here.” Milo kissed his forehead. “You deserve a break.”

“My ass.” Didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“And you!” Milo stomped over to me and pinched my arm. “Leave him alone!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” Max repeated after both of us. I lunged for him again but was blocked by Milo. She quickly shut the door and crossed her arms. The hallway was too small for one of our fights.

“What?” I shifted nervously.

“You punch him?”

“He was talking about your ass.” I leaned in and pressed her back against the wall.

“At least someone’s talking about it.” She tilted her chin in defiance and glared.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean!” She poked my chest, and I had to admit it felt like Mighty Mouse had taken possession of her finger; it hurt like hell.

“Stop.” I grabbed her hands.

She fought against me, struggled as I tried to pin her arms to her side, and then lost complete control of my body.

And kissed her.

Again.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MILO

He was kissing me.

In the hallway.

My fake boyfriend was in the guest room a few feet from me, and Jason was down the hall.

It was one of those kisses that girls talked to their friends about—possessive, dark, hungry. I loved it—I wanted to wrap my arms around his body and pull him against me.

Instead I barely kissed him back.

Because that wasn’t how I wanted him.

Out of anger? Out of jealousy? Because he was pissed that I was finally out of his reach? As his lips moved across mine, I pondered—almost like time stopped—I let myself wonder. Would I ever be okay with half of him—the jealous half—when I wanted the whole package? The sucky thing about unrequited love is you’re never quite sure where the other person stands—you can only make assumptions based on your own feelings and then hope to God it’s at least better than all-out rejection. Yeah, they may say they want you, but is the want as strong as yours? Does it hurt? Does it ache?

Gently I pushed Colton away. “We shouldn’t.”

“Sorry.” His voice was hoarse. “I don’t know why I keep doing that.”

“Yeah, you do,” I said as the cold weight of sadness and rejection settled in my stomach like a bag of rocks.

“He’s not right for you.”

“And you’re the expert because . . . ?”

Colton touched his forehead against mine. “We’ve been friends since first grade—when you used pink marker to write your name all over my bedroom walls.”

Tears threatened, making my throat close up. He was being kind—what I’d actually done was write “Colt+Milo=Love.”

“I know you.” He put so much emphasis on the you that I started to shake. “Trust me.”

“How can I trust a guy who doesn’t even know what he wants?” I pressed against his chest. “What do you want from me?”

His eyes darted back and forth with uncertainty.

And that was the thing.

I wanted him to be certain. No hesitation.

“I want—”

“I’m home!” Mom called from the kitchen. “Doughnuts! And time to regroup! The decorators are here so we’ll need everyone to pitch in! Let’s go, troops!”

Colton stepped away from me and walked down the hall toward the kitchen.

With a sigh I went back into the guest room to rescue Max.

He was sitting on the bed texting.

“Wow, miracle recovery,” I joked.

He looked up from his phone and grinned. “Theater camp. Admit it, you totally dig my acting skills.”

“Those acting skills earned you a punch in the jaw.”

“False.” Max crossed his arms. “My acting skills got you and Colton to talk. Geez, you two are so boring. I swear he wears his thoughts on his face. I’m surprised Jason hasn’t figured it out and murdered him already.”