Page 2 of Trust Issues
“You don’t think it’s weird to pour milk before cereal?”
“It’s weird but I doubt he’s a psychopath because of it.” She got up and went to the kitchen. I heard the familiar rattle of wine bottles in the chiller and my ears pricked. I knew Naima’s bougie ass would get wine.
I didn’t do wine.
I did tequila and pineapple juice. In a champagne flute.
Okay, maybe I was alittlebougie too.
I headed into the kitchen behind her because liquor was always a good idea. We were laughing and talking when I heard the lock click on the front door. I paused and tilted my head to the side. I knew exactly who was getting ready to walk into my apartment so I narrowed my eyes, walked around the corner, and waited.
“Kyle, I heard your date screeching off into the night. He must have come to his senses.” Maxwell Parker waltzed in like he lived there instead of living across the hall. I should have never given his ass a key. It was supposed to be used only in cases of emergency. Did he listen to that?
No.
His deep brown face held on to a smug so arrogant, I wanted to knock it to the damn floor. I don’t think I could have rolled my eyes any harder if my life depended on it.
Max, it seems, was created by God to annoy the fuck out of me on a daily basis. We’d been neighbors for three years and every year I questioned why I hung out with him since he worked my nerves like it was his nine-to-five.
“Max, don’t you have an Instagram hot-pocket-ho to woo? Why are you in my apartment?” I quizzed. Naima snickered from the kitchen before calling out a hello to Max.
“I decided to stay up tonight and get some work done. I went to the store to get snacks and when I came back, Mark told me how your date peeled out of here. Naturally, I was concerned.” He closed the door behind himself and sat his tall, sturdy frame in a recliner in the living room.
“Aww see, Kyle? Max cares.” Naima walked out of the kitchen with a wine glass hanging from her fingertips. She moved over to Max and rubbed the top of his head while I scoffed.
“Of course I do. Any man that’s around Kyle without being up to date on his shots raises concern.” He tipped his head back and laughed while I flipped him off and headed back into the kitchen. I needed tequila to deal with that man. “So, what’s the report this time, Naima?” I heard him ask while I stood on my tiptoes to reach the champagne flutes in the kitchen.
“As usual, Kyla Bradshaw—the queen of high standards—has struck again. This time her date has been labeled as a narcissistic psychopath.”
I silently mocked Naima while I poured myself a strong drink. When I walked back into the living room, I eyed Max and grunted as I sat on the couch.
“Oh god, what did the poor man do? Tie his shoes left, then right?”
“Don’t mock me, Maxwell,” I sneered. “This guy was a full-fledged psychopath. You can’t trust people like him,” I said.
“Kyle, cut it out.” Naima took a few sips of wine before setting her glass down on the coffee table. She turned her brown-eyed gaze to Max and slid to the edge of her seat for extra drama. “So the guy talked about himself too much and to top it all off he hadthe nerveto pour his milk before pouring his cereal,” Naima explained.
Max looked from her to me and shrugged. “Clearly the guy is a fucking psychopath. Who does that?” He frowned.
An involuntary smile curved my lips up and I took a long drink. “For once, Max has common sense. See, Naima? It’s not just me. No normal, non-psychopath pours their milk first. It’s settled.”
“Besides, we have to question the sanity of anyone willing to go on a date with Kyle in the first place.” Max winked at me and I smiled.
“Your father seemed to be pretty sane,” I teased.
“Oh my god, will you two cut it out?” Naima was always playing the role of peacekeeper between Max and I. It never worked but she tried. “I’m going to work on this blog while you two duke it out.” Just like that, she disappeared back to her world of blogging. She was damn good at it too.
Her blogTea Timeknocked every other popular celebrity gossip blog down to nothing but a laughable tabloid. It was visited by millions of people daily and was a reliable source when it came to all things celebrity. In fact, Naima was moving to the west coast to be at the nucleus of Hollywood so she could get all the stories as soon as they happened. Until her house was ready, she was staying with me and it felt like we were in college again. Like having one long sleepover with my best friend.
“Here’s the deal, you don’t drool on me and I’ll watch movies with you,” Max said, kicking his feet up on my damn coffee table.
“You keep your fucking paws off my coffee table and we have a deal.”
“I’ll make us some popcorn.”
“Extra butter,” we said in unison. My dog, Barkley ran over and hopped in my lap as I settled in with a content smile.
It happened every single day. Max and I went back and forth like cats and dogs then hung out all night. He got on my nerves but I considered him to be a friend and I didn’t have many of those.
