The Taming of the Dude (Much Ado #2)

1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Max

S ometimes in life you need a wake-up call, and mine was Ashima yelling behind me.

“Max! Put that away. Pull up your shorts!“ One hand covers her eyes and the other flails in the general direction of my crotch.

My head’s in a fog of weed, and I take a second to register that I fell asleep on the couch with my spent dick in my hand and my shorts around my ankles. I yank them up and plop back down while looking for the remote. “What’s the problem? Am I bigger than Nick? Afraid you can’t resist?” I play it off, but this isn’t my best moment.

“I can’t believe I saw your thing! This is so out of line.” She gropes for the front door as she continues to cover her eyes, even though my thing is now covered. She slams the door shut. “You’ve gone too far this time. And I can’t believe I have to tell you this, but masturbate behind closed doors! Even my kindergartners know to keep it in their pants.” She hollers over the actress on the screen doing a bang-up job of acting out her orgasm—high quality work. But Ashima doesn’t seem to appreciate the talent. She stomps over to the coffee table, shielding her eyes.

“Oh, so gross. I’ve seen my boyfriend’s brother’s dick. That’s really weird. And majorly icky.”

She pushes the mail, food wrappers, and other junk around on the coffee table. “Where’s the remote? And by the way, I can’t unsee that, Max. For the rest of our lives, there’ll be that time I saw that . And I can’t believe you’re watching porn in the living room. Nick is going to have something to say about this. Yes, he will.”

“I know. I know.” She’s right. I should’ve taken care of business in my room, but I like the life-sized effect of a big-screen television. Definitely shouldn’t have fallen asleep, but sometimes it’s hard to fight it after coming. Guess I got too comfortable with my routine. I always figured I’d hear the door unlocking. “I’m sorry. But let’s not overreact.”

“And this is what you watch? Oh, my—look at the size of her boobs.” Ashima flaps her hands at the porn actress. “Is that what you’re holding out for? Then let me tell you, you’re going to be waiting a long time. I have never met a woman with boobs that big. Ever. She must have serious back issues. What are Nick and I going to do with you? You can’t sit around here moping, hoping a porn star will land in your lap.”

“I’m not obsessing over a porn star. This wasn’t what I was watching when…you know.” I rub my eyes. This is one rude awakening. “But trust me, her back is fine. You should see her doing reverse-cowgirl.”

There’s a lot of ass slapping and groaning going on, making it hard for me to get to my point. I check behind me on the couch for the remote. Not sure where it went. “But never mind her skills. I’m not holding out for anyone. I’m good going solo…not what I meant. But the point is, I don’t want a relationship.”

Ashima swoops down and grabs the remote poking out from under the love seat. She looks between the screen and her own chest before turning off the TV.

“Don’t worry—your boobs are fine.” Ashima has a good-sized rack. Decent butt too. I’d say Nick is a lucky man, except she’s so damn hyper.

“Lines, Max. They exist for a reason, and what you just said crosses so many of them. I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Ashima sits beside me. “Look—“

She notices the balled-up tissues on the couch and jumps up, launching over the coffee table corner to the safety of the love seat. “How long have you been doing this instead of working? You’re going to get fired.”

“I worked most of the day. It’s all good.”

“This is your definition of all good? You’re a manager now. Shouldn’t you be going into work? Doesn’t your team need to see you?”

“My team knows what they’re doing. I got it covered.”

“I’m not so sure.” She sighs as she looks at me. “You seem down lately. You’re not going out. You’re blowing off work. And while it’s great that you’re spending all this time with Nick, you haven’t even started to look for your own apartment. Things seem like they could spiral down for you. If you get fired, how will you afford your own place?”

“I jerked off once, thank you very much. I’m not sabotaging my job. And I can afford my own place. Why are you on my case?”

She slaps the sides of her legs. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you were behaving yourself. I’m trying really hard here to be supportive.” Her gaze drops to the tissue wad. “Really, really, really trying to be understanding. You’re Nick’s little brother, so I’ve got your back too.”

It grates on me that she called me Nick’s little brother, as if she and Nick are the wise elders, even though she and I are the same age.

“I don’t understand what’s going on with you,” she continues. “You were so psyched about your promotion and bragging about how great it was, then boom! A couple of months in, you stop going into the office.”

She crosses her hands over her lap and looks very much like the kindergarten teacher she is. I scowl at her. I hate it when she tries to kinder-corral me as though I’m one of the hyper kids in her class. This is the price I have to pay for free housing.

“Whatever. It’s not a big deal. I only pushed for the job for the money. That and to impress Beatrice.” I regret the words as they roll out of my mouth. I’ve never said that before, not even to myself, but there’s some truth to it. Not the whole truth, but some. I was already bossing people around, so why not get the title and the money for it? But the icing and the cherry and even the candles on top were seeing Tris’s face when I told her.

“Really? I didn’t know that.” Ashima leans back in her chair and rests one hand under her chin, switching from kindergarten teacher to guidance counselor. “Help me understand why you’re taking the breakup so hard. Didn’t you tell me she couldn’t get over her ex? I thought it wasn’t that big of a surprise that she ended things. Plus, didn’t you date only a few weeks?”

I’m not liking Ashima poking at me to see why I hurt, but I’m too tired to get off the couch. “We dated more than a few weeks. It was definitely a solid month.” Though I guess this depends on what you consider the starting point.

“Okay, but you didn’t even flinch when you broke up with Sara and you dated her for what…almost a year?”

“But I’ve loved Tris my whole life.” Another thing I’ve never said out loud before. No, I told Tris that once. Also, I confessed that to my best friend, Andy.

Growing up, I was the clown, and she was the cute nerd next door. Landing her felt like I had made it. Job lined up, serious girl—for a moment I was more than I’d ever been. I run my fingers through the length of my beard, spreading it into a wide sheet.

Ashima’s blinks come rapid-fire. “That’s so sweet, Max.” Crap, she’s getting all teary-eyed, even dabbing at the corners of her eyes. “I didn’t realize you have a sensitive side.”

I do not feel like dealing with this, but this is totally the way she rolls. One second she’s flipping out on me and the next she’s looking at me like I’m the leading man in some cheesy romance novel. She’s like taffy—the sweetness seems nice until it cakes up your teeth and gives you a toothache.

Then I’m saved by Nick coming home. Ashima scurries over to him, and they rub noses like lovesick bunnies. They’re so nauseating.

“I’m so glad you’re home. Max was confiding in me about his poor broken heart. Nick, we have to help him. We have to put together a list of all the single women we know.”

“For Max?” Nick gives me a skeptical glance.

I shake my head, confirming that she’s way off base. “Stop right there. Woman not needed. I’m loving being single.” I stretch across the cushions. “Nothing wrong with how things are. I enjoyed my afternoon.”

“Max can figure out his own dating life.” Nick kisses the top of Ashima’s head. “He’s fine.” Then he heads to the kitchen and opens the refrigerator.

Ashima follows him, leaning on the bar that separates the living room and kitchen.

“He’s a hermit. Can’t you see he’s depressed?” I hear her despite the attempted whisper. “He’s in a massive funk. He’s not even brushing his hair or beard anymore. A woman broke his heart. We need to find him a woman to mend it.”

“My life is fine. My hair is fine. I don’t need anyone to fix anything.” I begrudgingly roll off the couch and point at them. “You’re the ones that need the reality check.”

Ashima clasps her hands in front of her. “This will be good for you. Trust me, you’ll be singing my praises! And it could be so much fun. I’ll throw a party!” Ashima shakes her hands and then digs into the snack cabinet.

Now that’s a good idea—I could go for a snack. I stroll over toward the kitchen, but Nick intercepts me and shoves me into the hallway.

“What the…”

He puts his finger in front of his lips, shushing me as he pulls me over to the bathroom off the hall. “Hey, can you get lost this weekend?”

“What?”

“Stay somewhere else. Go visit Mom and Dad.” He peeks over his shoulder into the hall.

“Hell, no. There is nothing to do there except watch Dad sprout new hair from his ears.”

“Then figure something out.” He takes a step closer, which works to his disadvantage because I might be the little brother, but I’m an inch or two taller. “You know, the only reason I’m letting you stay here is because Mom told me to.”

“And you should always listen to your mother.” I shake my finger at him in a mock-scold. His annoyance at this is almost amusing. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll hole up in my room.”

“You’re no help.”

Ashima pops up behind us, but then darts away when we make eye contact. I can’t help but smile at her lousy spying. Nick throws me a dirty look and trudges off to the kitchen.

Finally, I can get back to snack time. A slight high from smoking up earlier has left me with the munchies. I search the cabinet for something crunchy. Nothing but organic tortilla chips. I jab at a bag. “Case in point on why I don’t want a woman—lousy food choices.”

Nick grabs the chips and pushes them into my chest. “Then drag your sorry ass to the store.”

I snatch the bag, but Ashima jerks it out of my hands. “Let’s not forget to wash our hands, right?”

“Why is everyone on my case?” But the way Ashima is bugging her eyes out at me while looking at my crotch reminds me of what I had been doing. Eh, she has a point. I scrub up, then I dump some salsa in a bowl. Gourmet time—I slap a slice of American on top, drizzle a little water on the cheese, and end with a whirl in the microwave.

“Nick, man, join me—bachelors forever. I do what I want, when I want.”

“Thanks, but I’m good.” He grabs a handful of chips from the bag. “Ashima might be on to something. We need to get you out of the apartment more.”

Ashima wraps her arms around Nick. “Yes! Let’s do it. Come on, Max. Let me fix you up. This’ll be fun. We can do a makeover together. Go get our hair done.” She twirls her fingers in her hair. “You will absolutely love my stylist. Oh, I wonder if any of the other stylists are single?”

Maybe I should get my own place. Then I wouldn’t have Judgey-Mcjudge telling me to clean up and snooping on my conversations and trying to set me up.

“I’m good. I don’t need anyone.” I scoop up some salsa and cheese on a chip. Damn, as good as any Mexican restaurant. “I’m not playing this crap. Try to set me up and I’ll show up a stoned slob.”

“That’s what I see every day, anyway.” She dips a chip into my cheese and salsa.

I growl at her. She scoops an even larger blob. Technically, it’s her cheese and salsa, so I have to share.

“How about the three of us go out? We’ll be your wing-peeps. Help you find someone.” Then she pops the chip in her mouth.

“No way am I being the third wheel.”

“Then we’ll invite some friends to join us. It’ll be a group outing,” Nick says.

“Ah, babe. That’s an awesome idea.” Ashima kisses his cheek. He winks and pulls her against him. They’re both laughing as she feeds him a chip with cheese and salsa. They’re so gross. Happy couples suck.

The chip in my hand drops on the counter. Amazingly, it remains in one piece. I should eat it, but I’m no longer in the mood. A glob of cheese oozes over the edge onto the counter.

“Forget it,” I mumble under my breath as I leave the kitchen. I don’t have the energy to fight Ashima on this. But this doesn’t mean she’s won. I’ll be damned if I ever date again.