Page 37 of Rematch
Max:A car will be at your house to pick you up at six.
“A car?” Gianna squealed, reading over my shoulder. “Oh, girl, he’s getting fancy on you!”
“Fancy?” I scoffed. “As if.”
The anticipation for the night helped me get through the rest of the week. With each passing day, the butterflies Gianna mentioned grew larger and larger in number. I almost forgot the skittish nerves that accompanied the thought of Max’s presence. The first time I’d felt them in their entirety was in middle school. Back when I first started developing feelings for Max.
I still remember the moment when I’d looked at him during a conversation on the walk home from school and noticed the sun painting over all of his features. His dark bronze skin. His brown eyes. Long eyelashes. Tight curls. Mischievous grin.
And, in an instant, my stomach was bombarded with ticklish flutters.
The sensation scared the hell out of me at first. After all, Max was my best friend, and it was weird to have a crush on them. Or at least I thought so at first.
Not too long after my own crush bloomed, Max started acting differently too. He was complimenting my hair and my outfits and called me pretty sometimes. He sat inches too close next to me, and practically growled at any other boy who came near me. On our walks home, he started holding my hand or putting his arm over my shoulders. He kissed me during a slow dance at the homecoming dance our junior year, and things were never the same.
It’s been so long I’ve dabbled in those feelings.
When they sparked the other night at the carnival, I pushed them down. Now, they were fighting their way to climb out of the hole I’d stuffed them in.
Saturday afternoon after I came home from an overnight shift, I took a power nap and showered before locking myself in my room to prepare for the night. I dug through my closet, pulling out any potential pieces and threw them on my bed.
As the racks grew slimmer, I noticed the tiny corner on the right side I’d purposefully hidden. Still hanging there were some of Max’s old hoodies and jackets. Most were ones I’d stolen because I liked the design, but there were at least two of his old varsity jackets from the gym he’d given me specifically. One was smaller, from the last spring of middle school. The other was large and full, from the summer before college. He’d given it for me to take with me to school. I wore it so much that by the time we broke up, it didn’t smell like him anymore. But, I still wore it well into my senior year of undergrad anyway.
I grabbed the jacket and paired it with a crop top and a pair of jeans.
By the time I was ready, my phone was buzzing with a text from Max saying my ride had arrived.
I jogged downstairs and let my fathers know I was leaving.
Papa walked me to the porch, his brow raising at the sight of the Black Escalade waiting at the curb.
“Be safe,” he told me.
“I will,” I promised as I kissed his cheek.
As I walked down the pathway to the curb, the driver and passenger doors opened. Two men stepped out, one dark-skinned with locs and the other with tawny brown skin and a short cut fade. Both wore black button downs, slacks, and dress shoes. The one with the locs smiled at me while the other kept a neutral expression.
“Good evening,” the smiling man said. “I’m Wesley, and this is Tysir. We’ll be your chauffeurs slash bodyguards tonight.”
I almost laughed. I never imagined Max having other men work for him - especially an odd couple like this. “I’m Audrey,” I said, holding out my hand. “It’s nice to meet both of you.”
Wesley reached out to shake it, but Tysir slapped his hand down. “Do you want him to break your fingers?” He hissed quietly.
“Well, it’d be rude to leave her hanging.”
Tysir rolled his eyes. He tried to move past Wesley to the back door, but Wesley blocked him with his arm.
“I’ve got it,” he said. Offering me another grin, he opened the back door. “For the lovely lady.”
Giggling, I climbed inside. “Thank you.”
Tysir shook his head. “Now, when he fucks you up, I don’t wanna hear it.”
“Hey, he told us to be on our best behavior. I’m being polite!” Wesley argued. His voice muffled as he shut the door.
They climbed into the front seat and turned up the music playing on the radio. The ride to the arena was pleasantly peaceful. Wesley and Tysir didn’t talk much more, one focused on driving while the other kept an additional eye on the othercars on the road. I used the time to text Gianna and keep her updated on our estimated arrival time.
When we arrived at the stadium, they practically formed a small shield around me with Wesley in front of me and Tysir following close behind. Clearly, they were taking their job very seriously. Either they held a lot of respect for Max or were deathly afraid of him. Knowing Max, it was probably a little bit of both.
