Okay, so I got OCD about the cleaning. I was actually cleaning the oven when there was a knock on the door. I stripped the rubber gloves off and threw them into the sink, rushing to answer the door, expecting to see my gorgeous Cay standing there waiting for me.
But who was at the door?
None other than my ex.
That's right. The one I've spent the last two years trawling bars and getting smashed every night in an effort to forget.
His dark hair is a little longer than I remember, and the sparkle in his blue eyes a little brighter. Clearly my memory didn't do him justice.
As I'm noticing this, I'm giving myself a mental slap. You've moved on, you stupid dick. Tell him to get the fuck out.
"A-Alex," is all I manage to splutter and he smiles crookedly - that smile that always got my knees weak. Fuck.
"Max. Long time, no see. How're you doing?"
"Good- good, yeah." How do you tell someone that's practically a god to get out of your doorway?
"That's good to hear," his smile widens, "I wish I could say the same," he takes half a step forward, his arm slipping too comfortably around my waist, "I was confused when I left, Max, I didn't know what was going on in my life. But I figured it out."
"Oh?" I squeak, wishing I could bring myself to push him off. But part of me doesn't want to.
"I realized I want you back. I'm sorry about what I said. I really am."
"It's fine, I forgave you. But I'm taken, now," my voice sounds like a squashed mouse, though and his eyebrow arches at the apparent lack of conviction in my tone.
"Did you warn him he's a rebound?"
"He's not a rebound," I mutter, and he lets go of me. I retreat a couple of steps, but he follows me in, making his way into the living room.
"Sure he's not," he says, flopping on my sofa, looking up at me as I wander in, perching tentatively on the edge of an arm chair. Oh god, what if Cay walks in on this? How would I explain this away without bursting into tears?
"He isn't. I had my rebound two years ago when you decided you were straight," I tell him in a mumble. Though this is true, it still feels weird to tell him. In fact, it's weird just talking to him. We totally lost contact about a month after he vanished.
"Mmm," he nods, standing up again, taking a confident stride over to me so that he's standing over me, "I'm not an idiot, Maxxie. I've known you since we were in secondary together. I think I know you well enough to know that you're not so sure about whoever it is you're with now."
"Shut up," I whisper, closing my eyes. Cay said he was gonna put his heart and soul into this, despite the fact that he knows he doesn't do well at relationships. He meant it, he meant it, he meant it. Alex hooks a finger under my chin and lifts my face up, planting a soft kiss on my lips. He pulls back as my eyes flutter open again, half shocked by the kiss.
"Maxxie?" Cayden's voice preceded him into the living room, and I looked up past Alex's figure at him.
"Hi Cay," my gaze dropped to the gorgeous bunch of flowers in his hand and my heart plummets, making its way for his homeland, Australia. I swallow and stand up, sliding past Alex to greet Cay with a quick kiss and a half assed hug.
"Hey. What... Who... I'm... I'm a little confused here," he mumbles, looking at Alex dubiously. I sigh and wave my hand vaguely at Alex.
"Cay, this is my ex, Alex. Alex this is Cay, my boyfriend."
"Oh. You're the rebound Maxxie was talking about just now."
"He's not a rebound," I hiss irritably.
"I'm still a little confused. Why is he here exactly?" Alex half smiles and takes a seat in the arm chair I just vacated, looking up at Cay like he owns the place and folds his arms across his chest.
"I came to get Max back. I made a horrible mistake when I left and I'm here to try and make up for it," he explains, as calm as can be.
"I got over you! I was getting over you!" I cry, standing awkwardly, not knowing how to stand, or where I should look. My eyes end up on the bouquet again and my heart falls a few more miles, "I'm sorry, Cay, this kinda ruined the romantic surprise," I mumble quietly, fighting back the sudden urge to cry.