Chapter 8

I laugh silently. "So what is my type then, please fill me in." I don't have a type... do I?

"I don't know, the opposite of Jacob." She flings her hands around, rolling her eyes.

"Well, from what Max has told me about his mother she'll never approve of me," I tell her.

"Why is that?" Quinn asks with a puzzled look on her face. "She's uptight, I'm sure when she hears her baby boy is dating a veterinarian assistant she'll be over the moon excited." I turn, and make a dorky face.

"Hi my name is Rae and I am a veterinarian assistant. Why yes, I do clean up dog poop daily," I swing my arm in and give a cheesy smile.

"Yeah, maybe leave that part out. But Max said he could help you with all that right? You can make up a profession. Hell, I do it all the time." She lifts her chin confidently.

She does do it all the time. Last night she told a guy she helped NASA in launching the rocket. She's very persuasive when she's drinking. "Besides, Max is hot if I remember right. What are you complaining about?"

"Exactly the problem." My eyebrows raise. "He is good looking and more so than the last time we saw him. I like what we have now. No men. Just us, having fun." I purse my lips and cross my arms. The way my body reacted around him has me nervous to be around him. I have been around dozens of men at parties and not one of them made me feel like I did today around Max. It's unnerving.

She tosses her apron at me and cocks an accusing brow. Pressing both of her hands on the metal island for examining pets, she hops her butt on top and crosses her legs.

"Yeah, because what we have is safe, Rae. But eventually you have to swim with the dicks to get to the other side." Her tone serious.

"I don't think that's how that saying goes," I laugh.

"Oh, no. That is exactly how it goes. The man that is worth the trouble and has a dick that lengths in double is rewarded only after you get through the lake of pricks." She points at me jumping off the counter. "Remember that."

***

Sitting on the couch I wipe my hands that consist of left over flour on my long shirt and lean against the doorframe that enters our living room. Orange Is The New Black on as background noise as I cook.

"You making cookies?" Quinn asks, the sound of her sniffing around the corner.

"Ya know, I think everyone should think like that Voss chick," I state, pointing at the TV with one eye squinted.

"Ugh, not this show again," Quinn huffs, plopping on the couch, a tub of ice cream in her hands.

"This is good intel, ya know." I arch a brow at her. She is the only one I know that doesn't like this show. Not that I know many people. I keep to myself unless I'm drinking. When I'm drunk I'm everyone's friend, and love everyone's outfit. Basically, I'm a lush. A lush that excludes getting laid. Maybe that is why I reacted the way I did around Max, maybe I need a good dicking.

"Oh yes, because when I get locked up I want to know how to fall in love inside maximum security," Quinn dead pans, looking for the remote.

"It's more than that. Like, I could totally kill someone with as little as a few Jolly Ranchers, did you know that?" I side-eye her seriously. "This show is educational on levels you'd never knew. I'll never look at pads for a woman's period the same again, they are much more resourceful than you'd think."

She laughs, snatching the remote from me. "Well, if I see you constructing a night mask out of a pad or tampons, I'm having you admitted." She turns on the couch, crossing her arms along the back waiting for me to argue with her.

The doorbell rings, catching our attention, Quinn's head whipping in the direction of the door.

"Are you expecting someone?" I question with narrowed eyes.

She scoffs. "Like who? All I know is you," she smart mouths.

Quinn stands and goes to answer it and I resume my modern day romance show. I also steal the tub of ice cream.

"Oh Rae... it's for you!" Quinn show tunes, and a chill races up my spine from the amount of excitement in her voice. The only time she gets excited is when it's buy one taco, get a taco for free at the Beaney stand on Friday nights.

I put the tub to the side and head to the door, curious who would be here for me. Maybe my car was towed again.

Rounding the corner, my eyes fall on Max. He's wearing that damn blue hat, a white shirt stretching around his muscled biceps, and hooded eyes that makes my breath catch in my throat.

My cheeks blaze with embarrassment at my current state. I was not expecting company and I definitely wouldn't answer the door like this if I had known Max might be stopping by.

My hair is down and in a curly mess, and my ripped up night shirt shows bits of my stomach and lime green sports bra. Don't get me started on these spandex shorts. They're basically underwear. Actually, they are my underwear right now. We really need to do laundry around here.