CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“Max?” Leslie stood at the kitchen doorway, glancing at O’Hara, “What are we doing?”
“We’re ending this.” He took a gulp out the orange juice carton. “Trust me, I got it.”
She walked up to him. “Listen—”
“I got this.”
“I thought we were a team.”
He squinted, slurping out the carton. “You didn’t wanna be on my team.”
“That’s not true.” She pulled on his T-shirt, catching a sweat stain. “We made love, remember? You can’t keep acting like it didn’t happen.”
“Is that what I’m doing?” He got jelly out the fridge. “Check to see if he has any peanut butter.”
Leslie looked in the pantry, got out a half-empty container, and tossed it to Max.
“Thanks.” He snatched the bread off the table. “Hungry as s**t. You want a sandwich?”
“No.” She sashayed toward him, her thick j
