Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Two days post “Good Friend–gate” and I was still emotionally recovering from being labeled like a group project partner.
I was in the kitchen–where I now reigned as the supreme deity of skillet and sass–when a knock echoed through the penthouse door.
When I opened it?
MAX.
My best friend. My ride or die. My sass soulmate. The one and only Maximus Alejandro Cruz Lopez Reyes- yes, all four names, and every single one brought flavor.
And he looked like a snack. No. A buffet.
Tan. Sharp jawline. Hair styled like he walked straight out of a K–drama. Sleeves rolled up just enough to flash those biceps that could inspire an oil painting. And don’t even get me started on the cologne–rich man forest with a dash of “I know you’re looking.”
“BABY!” I screamed and launched myself into his arms like we were in the season finale of a telenovela.
He lifted me effortlessly, twirled me like I weighed less than his morning protein bar, and said in the deepest, most ridiculously seductive voice he had,
“You look edible, mami. Damn.”
I cackled. Oh, we were being dramatic today. Perfect.
But then… I remembered something.
Oh no.
Cue the sound of emotionally repressed billionaires gritting their teeth.
I slowly turned my head.
And there he was–Steven McLeon himself. Seated on the velvet couch, watching Discovery Channel like he wasn’t watching us. Like he wasn’t eyeing Max like Max just challenged him to a duel for my affection.
Oh yeah. He was holding the remote but his thumb hadn’t moved in minutes. The documentary about sharks and tigers and whatever other metaphorical masculine animals in crisis was now background static. Because the real drama had entered the room–and flexed.
Steven’s voice was tight. “Who’s this?”
I smiled sweetly. “Steven, meet Max–my best friend, my therapist, my fashion savior, and the keeper of my darkest, most ridiculous secrets.”
11:32 Thu, Sep 18
Chapter 21
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Max took a step forward and in a flash transformed from Flirty Max to Alpha Male Max. His stance shifted. His smirk deepened. His biceps flexed like they were being paid for it.
He extended a hand with a firm, slow nod. “Max. Pleasure.”
Steven gave him a once–over that could make most mortals combust.
“Tch,” Steven muttered, eyes sharp. “Didn’t know you had… friends like that.”
Max raised a brow. “Like what, exactly?”
I sipped my iced tea. Yes. Let the games begin.
“Oh, you know,” Steven said casually, “the type who shows up flexing like he’s auditioning for a romance cover shoot.”
Max smiled, all teeth. “Oh I’ve done those. Five so far. Would’ve been six but I didn’t want to overshadow the lead.”
I wheezed.
Steven’s eye twitched.
Max wrapped an arm around my waist, pulled me in like I was his leading lady, and whispered loud enough for someone to hear:
“So tell me, Madison. Is he the one who labeled you a good friend?”
“Oh, he did more than that,” I said sweetly. “He practically gave me a LinkedIn endorsement.”
Steven stood up. Slowly. Deliberately.
The remote? Forgotten.
“Is this some kind of show?” he asked, stepping closer.
Max held my hand and smirked like the Greek god of instigation. “No. Just a little reality check, Stevie.”
The air thickened. Sass. Testosterone. Petty energy.
And me? I was living.
“Would you two like a protein shake with your tension?” I offered cheerfully,
They didn’t answer. They just glared. Me in the middle. Like the goddess of drama and Dior bikinis.
And I just knew- Things were about to get fun.
Let me paint the scene.
Chapter 21
Max was still holding my hand like we were starring in a Netflix kedrama spinoff titled: “My Best Friend is My Fiancé and This Billionaire Looks Jealous AV
Steven McLcon–Formula One God, Billionaire with muscles carved by divine petty energy, and certified king of brooding–stood there, jaw tight, arms crossed, and fuming like someone just scratched his Ferrari with a glittery keychain.
And me?
I was sipping cold brew, wearing my cutest crop hoodie and tiniest gym shorts–because comfort and chaos always go together.
“So,” Max said casually, “this is the McLeon, hub?”
He tilted his head, giving Steven that smug, look that only someone with abs and secrets could pull off.
“I expected more horsepower
I choked on my drink, “MAX”
Steven raised a brow, “Is that supposed to be funny?”
Max grinned, “It was supposed to be sassy, but it flew over your brooding billionaire head,”
Steven took a step forward. His voice? Calm, Too calm.
“So…. how long have you two been… like this?”
He gestured to Max’s hand on my waist like it offended the air itself.
“Oh, this?” I batted my lashes, “We’ve been besties since college. He helped me survive finals, heartbreaks, and once made my ex cry by just existing”
Max nodded solemnly. “His tears were the soundtrack of my gym session. Beautiful.”
Steven scoffed. SCOFFED.
Like an 1800s nobleman who found out someone wore cotton to a royal dinner.
He wheeled to the fridge, opened it violently, took out sparkling water like it was alcohol, and cracked it open like he was about to monologue, “Interesting. And what exactly is he doing here?”
I turned fully toward him. “Oh, you mean my best friend who’s also my emotional support human and part- time bodyguard? He’s visiting. He missed me. You know, basic human friendship.”
Steven muttered, “You didn’t tell me he looked like a damn Calvin Klein billboard.”
Max beamed, “Aw. That’s sweet, Stevic, Want me to sign a poster for you?”
I was howling internally. This was everything
11:32 Thu, Sep 18
Chapter 21
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Steven leaned on the counter. “So you’re just letting random gym bros flirt with you now?”
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I blinked. “Excuse you, sir. First of all, this isn’t flirting. This is Max. We flirt for emotional support, not seduction.”
Max chimed in. “Exactly. It’s called healing with sass.”
Steven looked murderous.
His lips pressed in a tight line. His arms flexed like he was holding back a tantrum.
“Does he always touch you like that?”
I smirked. “Like what? Like I’m someone who deserves affection and isn’t labeled a ‘good friend‘ after emotionally carrying someone for five months?”
He was silent.
Max smirked and pulled me in tighter. “Sounds like someone’s learning the price of underestimating a queen.”
Steven finally said, low and serious, “You’re not just a friend.”
I blinked.
“Sorry, what?” I asked.
“You’re not just a friend,” he repeated. His voice had heat now. Jealousy, yes. But underneath? Confession.
“You’re the reason I laugh again. The reason I didn’t give up. You’re more.”
Max blinked. “Okay, wow. I suddenly feel single and third–wheely.”
I turned slowly, sass trembling in my chest.
“You said that now? After I walked into the arms of Maximus Biceps Reyes?”
Steven stepped forward, unapologetically intense. “I’m saying it now because watching you with him made me want to throw a chair. And not in a healthy way.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That’s your confession? Jealous rage?”
“No,” he said, stepping so close I could see the golden flecks in his eyes. “My confession is I want to be the one holding you. Not him.”
Silence.
11:32 Thu, Sep 18
