13. Maximilian The Hottie Brazilian

32.7K 1.1K 408
                                    

Chapter 13

Maximilian The Hottie Brazilian

Okay, so um…what exactly does one wear on a date?  I mean, yeah, I was eighteen, but I’d never gone out with a guy before.  I never had the time go out before because we were always traveling.  And when I was in school, well, you know.  I was kind of too young to date while in college. 

So instead of trying to find something to wear myself, I had Brielle dig through my suitcase to find something suitable for my date with Max.

Well, could I really call it a date?  Max never specifically said it was a date, just that we were going out.  Was it always this confusing?  Date or not a date?  Gah!

“All you have are tank tops and jean shorts in here!” Brielle said from the depths of my suitcase.  She sat back on her heels and looked at me.  “Is that all you ever bring?”

I rolled my eyes.  “Yes, because I never thought I’d be going out while we were on an exploration,” I said.  “And Max kind of caught me off guard.  So can you please help me?”

She laughed as she stood up and walked toward my door.  When she disappeared, I kind of panicked.  Was she not going to help me?  Was she going to make me do this all myself?  I couldn’t do that!

But just a few moments later, she came back with a pair of tight-looking jeans, ballet flats, and a flowy-looking cream color shirt. 

"Here," she said, handing them to me.  "You've already taken a shower, right?"

I raised an eyebrow at her and pointed to my damp hair.  "Exhibit A," I said.

She rolled her eyes at me.  "Well, then, go put those on," she said.  "And once you're done, come into my room and I'll do your hair and makeup."

Groaning, I went into my bathroom and changed into the clothes Brielle had given me. 

I went to her and Dad's room after that, not bothering to look in the mirror.  I knew I would look ridiculous. 

"I look stupid," I said, stopping in front of Brielle, who was armed with a makeup brush.

"Pssh, no, you don't," she said.  "Now shut up and let me do your makeup since you hardly are able to do it yourself."

After about fifteen minutes of drying, brushing, glossing, and lots of complaining, Brielle was finally finished with me

Looking at myself in the mirror, I was kind of glad that we wore the same size clothes.  She knew just what to put me in also.  The jeans hugged my curves and the shirt was tight enough underneath the gauzy fabric of the second layer that you tell that I had curves in more places that just my hips and butt.  She hadn't put that much makeup on me either.  She just went a little heavier on the mascara and eyeliner than I usually did when we had some fancy party to go to.

I couldn't resist...

"Dang, I look good," I said, turning sideways in the mirror so I could see myself from a different angle.

"Yeah, you do," I heard a voice say from the doorway of the room. 

There, leaning against the doorframe, stood Max.  He had on a black dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, dark jeans, and dress shoes.  It was a good thing I caught myself or I'd be standing in a puddle of my own drool.

"You don't look too shabby yourself," I said, trying to sound cool, calm, and collected. 

That totally wasn't working.

Max brushed the invisible dust off his shoulder.  "I know," he said.

I rolled my eyes.  "Don't let your head get too big there, buddy," I said, walking toward him.  "So where are you taking me?"

My Life In RuinsWhere stories live. Discover now