Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)(49)

Max. I stared at the message for a minute before setting it back on the table without typing a reply. I hadn’t spoken to Max much since Friday and the irony wasn’t lost on me. I wasn’t willing to stop talking to Max when Adam asked me to, but yet I was pulling away from him anyway. Though my intentions weren’t to ignore him forever. I just . . . needed a break. At least this was what I told myself as my eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep.

***

I pulled up to Shane’s house at 2:30, thinking that they could probably use some help getting everything ready, and also because I was tired of sitting around by myself. I knocked as a courtesy, but didn’t wait for anyone to let me in. I entered Shane’s home that had been tastefully decorated and was filled with delicious aromas.

“Amanda? Shane?” I called out to alert them to my presence. I didn’t want to accidentally walk in on them having sex somewhere.

“Lily, thank God! I’m in the kitchen.”

“Hey,” I said as I walked in and gave Amanda a quick hug. “Merry Christmas. What’s going on?”

“Merry Christmas. And nothing, unless you count the fact that I’m about to slaughter my boyfriend and serve him for dinner.”

I let out a laugh. “Why?” My eyes scanned the kitchen. Every available surface was covered with food. “Are you guys doubling as a soup kitchen tonight? Why is there so much food in here?”

“Exactly.”

I looked at her questioningly.

“Shane cooked all of this healthy, Paleo shit that no one’s gonna touch. Then he had the nerve to accuse me of trying to poison his family with all of my ‘processed bullshit,’ as he called it.”

I couldn’t contain my smile. “Where is he now?”

“Who knows. He probably caught me eying the knives and decided that it was best to leave me alone.”

“Amanda, what do you expect? He’s a nutritionist and a CrossFit coach, for Christ’s sake. Of course he’s going to give you a hard time when you cook a ton of fattening food.”

Amanda raised the knife she was holding and pointed it in my direction. “Listen, you are going to have to pick a side here, and if I were you, I’d choose wisely.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I laughed. “So what can I help with?”

“You can hold the trash bag while I throw half of this junk away,” I heard from behind me.

I turned to see Shane standing in the doorway. Even though he was Amanda’s boyfriend, I couldn’t help but drink him in. He was really quite a specimen. Not quite six feet tall, he was built like a f*cking tank. But his blond hair and light eyes gave him a gentle quality that offset his imposing stature.

“If you touch my food, they will need bloodhounds to locate your body,” Amanda threatened without looking up.

“Do you have any idea how hard I had to work to get your body to look as good as it does right now? How much of your bullshit I had to endure? And you’re just going to throw it all away on macaroni and cheese and sweet potatoes coated in syrup.” Even Shane had a hard time keeping a straight face as he spoke. Amanda could gain two hundred pounds, and Shane would still be head over heels for her.

“Shane, if you ever want to see this body naked again, you will shut the hell up.”

I propped my elbow on the island and rested my head on my hand, settling in for the show. These two fighting was truly a spectacle.

Shane walked to Amanda and pressed his body up against hers. “That threat goes both ways, sweetheart.”

Amanda stiffened at the feel of Shane behind her. If I had an ounce of shame, I may have felt uncomfortable witnessing their exchange, but I didn’t so I stayed where I was, riveted.

Amanda quickly regained her composure and continued chopping vegetables, though I saw her grind backward into Shane slightly. “Does it now?” she asked coyly.

“Absolutely.”

“Why don’t we just let everyone else decide? We’ll put all the food out and see what people enjoy more.”

“Fine by me.” Shane smiled and gave Amanda a light kiss on the cheek before he started toward the dining room. But he stopped and turned back toward us before he left the room. “Oh, and Merry Christmas, Lily.”

“Back at ya,” I yelled after him. Once I was sure he was gone, I leaned toward Amanda. “The poor bastard doesn’t stand a chance.”

Giggling, Amanda replied, “I know. Now let’s discuss more important things. Like what my mom will be wearing.”

***

Amanda got the answer to her question about an hour later when her mom showed up “fashionably late” as she called it, wearing an oversized green sweater with appliqué candy canes and gingerbread men.

“Hi, mom,” Amanda said, leaning in for a quick hug. I was surprised that she initiated anything that resembled affection. She must’ve been really overcome with the Christmas spirit. It’s not that she didn’t love the woman. She did. But Amanda also didn’t have the greatest patience when it came to her mom, and I couldn’t blame her. As well-intentioned as Angela was, she was a total flake. “I see you’re still keeping the local Salvation Army in business.”

There’s my girl.

“Oh, I didn’t get this one from the Salvation Army. I found it in a lost and found box at the mall.”