Killian is looking from me to Becca and back to me again. “Oh man. So this means Ms. Bad from New York is…”
Thanks a lot, buddy! Why don’t you also remind Max she’s the reason I’ve been having dick issues, huh?
“You slept with my baby sister in New York?” Max thunders.
“If you say it any louder, the entire state of Nevada’s going to know,” I say, although it’s probably just a matter of time. Somebody might’ve recorded this and posted it on Facebook already.
“You think I give a fuck?” he asks furiously, although his voice is lower. His finger, however, is definitely in my face.
“Look, I didn’t know she was your sister,” I repeat. ?
??If I’d known, I wouldn’t have.”
The art show and the reception where I ran into Becca had other chicks I would’ve taken to bed if I’d known. Hell, even the organizer was gorgeous. And if I had, I wouldn’t have developed broken penis syndrome.
“How could you not know?” Max demands, his eyes razor sharp.
I try for a harmless smile to unwind him. “Because you never introduced us…?”
“I told you the show was my sister’s first in New York!”
“What? I don’t remember that.” I turn to the guys. “Did he say anything about…?”
Killian has a hand over his eyes. Cole nods slowly, his lips pulled in.
I look back at Max. “Okay, well, I…uh…might’ve missed that part.” It’s possible if I was distracted when he told me. It’s been known to happen. “Besides, you call her Bean! She said her name was B for Bad!”
I look at her. This is her chance to step up.
But she’s still contemplating her water. Did she spend the morning rolling around in the Nevada desert? Can she not see that I need help here?
I’m definitely divorcing her ass as soon as I get a chance to call my lawyer. No wife of mine is going to hang me out to dry!
“You’re so full of shit.” Max makes a fist.
Time seems to slow down. He’s going to punch me. I can feel it. Should I just take it on the chin and let this blow over, or should I duck and try to reason with him?
Assuming words can penetrate his fury. He’s breathing like a bull ready to charge and probably didn’t hear a thing I said.
And I bet he hasn’t recalled what I said about her before she showed up. If he had, he would’ve flipped the table.
“Stop,” Becca says.
Finally!
She places a hand on Max’s forearm, which is practically vibrating with tension. “You’re just upset because you weren’t invited to the wedding.”
That is totally not it, and she shouldn’t pretend that it is, either.
“Obviously!” He exhales hard. “But that isn’t all, Bean. Dev isn’t the man for you.”
Damn. I know my rep, but for some reason it stings coming from Max.
“You know I have my reasons, Max,” Becca says.
He shoots a flinty-eyed look at me. It says I’m the reason. I’m the devil snake who tempted his poor little Becca with an apple.
It’s probably not the best time to point out that our sleeping together in New York was a result of a mutual decision made by two consenting adults. To him, his sister is always the baby he needs to keep safe.