Page 39 of Pucked and Pregnant

“So what’s, uh, what’s going on?”

“I know it’s last minute but can we meet for breakfast in an hour? I think we have some things to talk about.”

“La Petite Coquette?” he suggests. “I know it’s your favorite.”

“Would you mind if Aiden joined us?”

“Why?” Max asks suspiciously. “Is there something the two of you need to tell me?”

I’m instantly overwhelmed by a wave of anxiety. I hate that he still makes me feel like I have to sneak around all the time. By all accounts though, that was a fairly tame reaction from him.

“Max, please don’t start.” I sigh in frustration. “I don’t want us to start fighting again. Having him there to mediate is the best way for us to avoid that.”

After several long minutes he finally says, “I hate to admit it, but you’re right. I’ll meet both of you there in an hour.”

“I think that went about as well as expected,” I say, turning to Aiden when the call ends.

“Probably, but if you want to keep him from finding out about whatever the hell is going on between us, you’re going to have to cover that hickey on your neck.”

“You don’t think I should leave it there?” I smile wryly. “I was thinking about having you paint some arrows pointing right at it.”

He presses a quick kiss to my lips. “Brat.”

“Only because you won’t let me be in charge.”

“Go cover up that mark on your neck before I decide to give you another one.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time.”

He grabs me by the shoulder and spins me away from him then slaps my ass, a yelp escaping my lips.

“Get away from me before we end up spending the day in bed.”

I know he’s got a point. As much as I’d love to put it off one more day or forever, this talk with Max is long overdue, twelve years overdue at a minimum.

“Stupid relationship repair. Stupid brother. Stupid breakfast,” I grumble as I sulk off toward the bathroom.

I believed Aiden when he told me Max sounded like he wanted to change. The fact that he’s given me space this entire week is promising.

So is the fact that the only times he’s texted me were responses to messages I sent him. One breakfast isn’t going to fix years of overprotective behavior, but it’s a start.

I want to do this. I want to have the brother I see glimpses of from time to time, not this overzealous guardian thing he’s got going on.

So why are my hands still shaking as we walk into La Petite Coquette?

It feels like every eye in the place is on me and I have to fight the urge to turn and run out the door.

As soon as I get close enough, Max wraps me in the tightest bear hug ever. It isn’t until the last puff of air leaves my body with a squeak that he finally lets go.

We start with the usual pleasantries, but by the time the croissants arrive there is an uncomfortable tension in the air.

Max and I just stare at each other for a while, each of us wanting to start but neither knowing where to begin.

“Why don’t you start by telling her what you told me the day of your fight?” Aiden prompts.

After a few minutes, Max manages to get the whole story out. Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t anywhere near what comes out of his mouth.

“Max, that’s horrible. If I had any idea that was going on I would have… I don’t know, but I would have done something.”

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