He rolls his eyes. “Oh, we’re going with that minor detail? Okay. Peaches, Peach Pie, Peachy-girl? Any of those?”
My eyes narrow as I feel a growl emanate from my throat. “My mother.”
Max tilts his head to the side as he gives me an exaggerated wistful smile, his lips making a quivering motion. “Well, isn’t that just adorable. And what does your dad call you?”
“He’s dead, so he doesn’t call me anything,” I snap.
Max’s eyes bug out of his head before he lets out a loud bark of laughter. “Damn. Didn’t expect that out of your mouth.”
I attempt to grab my phone from his hand, but he snatches it back. “Give me my phone.”
“No. What’s with all the peach names? Do you love peaches?”
“No, I hate them, actually.”
“Hate is a strong word for a fruit.”
“So?”
Max rests his shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms over his massive chest. “Why do you hate them?”
“No reason.”
“Doubtful.”
“Can I have my phone now?”
“Not until you tell me why you hate a fruit.”
I huff out a loud breath, rolling my eyes. “The pit is too large. The skin is fuzzy, and that bugs me. Frankly, I don’t like the color. If you get one that’s even slightly underripe, it’s almost crunchy. Who the hell wants a crunchy fruit? On the flip side, if one is overripe, it’s almost gooey. Once you’ve tasted an overripe and borderline rotten peach, you’ll never want to eat another peach again.”
“Huh.” Max looks thoroughly amused. “Peaches it is.”
“Uh, yeah?” I ask sarcastically. “That is what I’ve been talking about. Have you taken too many balls to the head?”
A slow smile graces his face, and his eyes sparkle. If I wasn’t so confused, I’d probably smile in response. It makes me wonder how often Max can get his way just by smiling at someone. From what I’ve seen, a Max Callahan smile is a rarity.
“Haven’t taken any balls to the head.”
“Then why are you reminding me what I’ve been talking about?”
“I wasn’t reminding you of that. I was talking about your nickname.”
I stare at him incredulously. “My what?”
“Your nickname. It’s Peaches.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“You’ll find I’m serious most of the time. See ya later, Peaches.”
“Don’t call me that!” I shout as I watch him turn to stride back down the hallway, where I never saw him approach. “Seriously!Max! Don’t call me Peaches!”
He spins to give me a devilish grin. “Too late, Peaches.”
God dammit.
I’ve never been morethankful to have forgotten my keys.
