Together We Fall

Chapter 7 | The Dating Rules

Love really increased the stupidity in humans and lowered their thinking skills which made them rush towards something without expecting what stood in the end.

"Do you really have to do that?" One of my eyebrows was lifted.

"What else is there left to do?" He tilted his head slightly to the side.

"Moving on, I guess," I shrugged. "You haven't try that one."

"I did—"

"That was obviously not moving on. That was getting over," I emphasised the last two words. "It's impossible to get over someone without having to move on."

"Then, help me do that," Max was completely frustrated dealing with his own emotions.

"So, if I help you to move on, you're not going to Mexico?" I asked for confirmation.

"I'll cancel the flight, if it works," he assured.

My jaws dropped, knowing that he'd already bought the ticket.

"What? I have to prepare everything beforehand. And the airplane will take off next two weeks," my friend understood my amazed jaw-dropping action. "I guess, we better start now."

"How about later at 3?" I suggested. "Me, you and Tyler. At your place."

"That'll do," he agreed.

"Make sure your house is as clean as a whistle. No stains, no marks, no puke stains on the floor," I demanded. Who would want to hang around in a smelly house full of puke stains and dirts?

"It's already clean. My housekeeper just got back from her hometown this morning and she'd cleaned everything up, leaving not a single dust behind," Max sat back and folded his arms.

"Okay," I stood up from my seat. "Now, send me home. I didn't bring any bucks with me to get a cab."

"Where's your car?"

"Someone crazy took it from me."

* * * * * *

"There she is!" An exuberant voice of a woman filled the whole house as soon as I stepped in.

When I turned around from facing a front door, I was ambushed by two blonde girls in different ages; one with glasses, wearing long-sleeved shift dress and currently in her early 40s while the other one was 4 inches taller than me, a bit tan and she would be turning 21 three days after Ben's wedding day.

"Okay, blondes attack," I tried to squeeze out of their hugs but they were just as strong as Rhonda Rousey.

"We've been waiting for you to have a lunch together," Olivia—Oliver's sister said as she pulled away.

"Where have you been?" Brooke, her daughter asked.

"Hanging out with my friend," I shrugged nonchalantly.

"Anyway, I've cooked our lunch meal. Three-course meal, actually. Now, come on," Olivia giggled before she went to the kitchen.

Then her daughter leant closer to my ear and whispered, "She fancy herself a chef today ever since she cracked open the fortune cookie saying that she will get a grand compliement for her talent."

"And she thought her talent was cooking?" I raised an eyebrow.

"That's what I'd been telling her," Brooke rolled her eyes.