by Lylah James
Fucker!
Anger coiled inside me, and I swiveled around, glaring. “Didn’t your parents teach you any manners?” I spat out through clenched teeth.
Maddox instantly lost the teasing look, and his face hardened to granite. The change in him was so quick and confusing; it felt like I had been dropped into the rabbit hole.
“No. They didn’t. They never cared enough to teach me anything,” he simply said, his eyes empty.
My mouth opened although I didn’t know how to respond. My brain stuttered for a moment in shock as my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. Maddox didn’t wait, he walked past me, and I lost him to the crowd before I could call out to him… to apologize? For what?
I didn’t know. Shit. Fuck.
Shock and confusion coursed through me, and for the first time, I realized that I truly didn’t know Maddox.
What’s your story, Maddox Coulter? Who are you?
***
“Table eight,” Kelly said, handing me a tray of warm food. I nodded, bursting out of the kitchen and going straight to the table she told me.
The soles of my feet were burning and the high heels were not helping. The restaurant I worked at was nice, the ambiance was pretty and welcoming, and because we were the only Grill and Bar restaurant for miles, this place could get hectic. I wasn’t allowed to work at the Bar, though, since I was still underage. I was hired two months ago, and I only served tables. The tips were good enough to keep me here, even though the job was tiring, and some nights I could feel the exhaustion in my bones.
I swore under my breath when another customer tried to catch my attention, waving his arm with irritation.
It was a busy night, must busier than the last few days, and we were short two servers. Both of them had called in sick last minute.
“Coming,” I called to him.
I served table eight their dinner, a tight smile on my face. “Let me know if you need anything else. Enjoy,” I said, chipperly. It was fake, I was feeling anything but chipper.
I went back to the man who was waving, fishing out my small notepad from the pocket of my apron. As I got closer to his table, I noticed that he had already ordered and ate his food. The plates were empty in front of him. Ah, so he needed the bill then.
I handed table five his bill and went along to the next table. The rush came and went. Hours later, I was dead on my feet and wishing I was in my bed. Kelly, my co-worker, who was also busting her ass, gave me an exhausting look as she passed me. “Table eleven. Can you grab it for me? I need the bathroom.”
I nodded. “I got it.”
I straightened my apron, took a last bite of my sandwich, wiped the corners of my mouth and made my way to the awaiting table.
I saw that he had already been served. “Hi, would you like anything else?”
My smile froze on my face, and I choked back a gasp. Are you fucking kidding me?
Mr. Stalker aka Mr. Pain-in-my-ass aka Maddox grinned at me, an almost boyish look on his face with decadent mischief in his gaze. The second thing I noticed was that his poodle hair was gone. Holy shit, he cut it? Maddox’s long, shaggy dirty blond hair had been cut short. No more man buns, no more surfer swagger. Did he cut it because I called him Poodle? I didn’t think he was that offended, but I figured it bruised his ego.
“Yes. You,” Maddox said.
I recovered from my shock, picked up my jaw from the floor and snapped my mouth shut. “Excuse me?” I asked stiffly, still reeling from disbelief.
He pushed his chair back, extended his legs in front of him and crossed his arms over his wide chest. “You asked if I wanted anything else, I gave you my answer. You.” His teeth grazed his lower lips and he eyed me up and down in my waitressing outfit. “I've been wondering if your pussy tastes like cherry, too.”
Oh, for Pete’s sake.
“Maddox,” I hissed.
“Lila.” My name rolled off his tongue, like he was tasting it.
“What are you doing? This is my workplace.”
He quirked up an eyebrow. “I’m here for the food. I approve, by the way. Five stars for the food, five stars for your service.”
“You’re stalking me,” I deadpanned.
“I am,” he admitted, calmly and without any shame.
This was getting out of hand. It was unacceptable, but I couldn’t even say anything back. Not while I was still working. My boss was somewhat of a bitch, and I couldn’t risk pissing her off, so I bit my tongue and smiled.
“I’ll give you the bill. We close in thirty minutes,” I said, as politely as I could, the corners of my eyes twitching with the effort to keep from snapping at Maddox.
Turning on my heels, I walked away before he could say anything else. I prayed he’d be gone by the time my shift ended.
When the clock struck eleven thirty, I hurriedly fumbled with the strings of my apron. I went into the bathroom and quickly changed out of my waitressing uniform, jumped into my jeans and yanked my beige sweater over my head. Done and done. I had fifteen minutes to catch my bus, and it was the last bus for tonight.
As I walked out of the restaurant, I prayed… and hoped…
But nope.
There he was, standing against the lamp post next to the bus stop.
Deep breaths, Lila, I told myself.
My lips tightened into a firm line as I walked to the bus stop, stopping next to Maddox but refusing to acknowledge him. He was starting to become unbearable. Why did I even feel something for him before?
The smell of cigarette was strong in the air, and I rolled my eyes. “Smoking is bad.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Cancer and shit.” From the corner of my eyes, I saw him take another long drag before exhaling a puff of smoke through his nose.
My lips curled in revulsion. “I don’t care if you die, but you’re probably going to give me cancer along the way if you keep smoking around me like this.”
It was a horrible thing to say, I knew. But for someone to care so little about their own life and health, it made me pity the poor fool. He really didn’t know what it meant to precariously hang between life and death. He didn’t know how scary and lonely the door behind death was. I saw it, and it still haunted me to this day.
Maddox let out another puff of smoke before he looked down at me. “Why do you hate me so much?”
A mocking laugh spilled past my freezing lips. It was colder than I anticipated, and I wasn’t dressed properly for the weather, stupid me. “Wow. Are you that full of yourself you can't figure out why I despise you so much? I thought you were smarter than that.”
“Well, I want to hear it from you. I don't like to speculate.”
Oh really? I didn’t think he was ready for this, but I humored him anyway.
Fighting another shiver from the cold, I hugged my waist and turned slightly toward Maddox. The ripped jeans were a bad idea since my legs were numb now. But I refused to show any sign of being frozen to death, least of all in front of him. “First. You still haven't apologized for bumping into me in the coffee shop.”
He let out a mocked gasp, filled with disbelief. “What? You’re still pissed about that day? It's been two months!”
I locked my jaw, silently bristling. “I don't care how long it's been. I appreciate it when people take responsibility for their mistakes and apologize when they’re wrong.”
“I’m sorry.”
My jaw went slack, and my eyes snapped to his. Wait...did...Maddox Coulter just apologize to me? Was something wrong with my ears? Maybe I was dreaming. Yup, that must have been it. “What did you just say?”
He threw the rest of his cigarette on the ground, squashing it with his leather boot. He kept his eyes on me, his face devoid of any mischief. He looked… serious. What a confusing man. I couldn’t tell which side of him was real anymore. “I said I was sorry,” he rumbled, the expression on his face genuine.
I narrowed my eyes on him. “Apologies don't count when they’re not sincere.”
“You confuse me, woman. First, you want me to apologize. Then when I do, you tell me not to. Pick one, Garcia.”
“When someone says he's sorry, he should mean it. Apologies need to be sincere or else it's useless and, frankly, a waste of time. Mean it or don't say it at all. I don't accept half-assed apologies.”
Maddox brought a hand up, holding it over his chest. “Jesus. You’re harsh, Sweet Cheeks.”
“Second, you've been annoying me non-stop, always following me around, and you find every reason to irritate me! Whether it's in class, at lunch or outside of school. You do know that personal space exists, right?”
He looked thoughtful for a second, and I thought he really was considering my words. But then he opened his mouth, and I wanted to smack him. “Girls love it when I'm in their personal space,” he admitted as if it was the most obvious thing.
“Full of yourself and absolutely cocky. The list is growing at an accelerating rate."
“So, you hate me because I give you attention?” Maddox took a pack of gum out of his pocket, popped one in his mouth before offering me one.
Against my better judgement, I took it. He was offering; I needed something to keep me distracted. “I despise you because I don't want the attention you give me.”
“Anything else?” The corner of his lips tilted up, a small grin on his face. There was nothing taunting about it. In fact, he looked pleased.
“You keep calling me Sweet Cheeks even though I have told you a thousand times to stop. And you keep using vulgar language. You’re rude and immature and inconsiderate to other people,” I whisper-yelled.
“But you call me Poodle.” Was that all he got from my rant?
“I call you Poodle because you call me Sweet Cheeks. I believe everything is fair in love and war.”
He stood closer, bending his head, so he could whisper in my ear. “And what do we have between us? Love? Or war?”
“War,” I said through gritted teeth.
“I approve,” he said too quickly, popping his gum. “Anything else?”
“Yes,” I practically screamed now. You. Kissed. Me.”
“Ah. So, you hate me because I stole your first kiss?”
Was that what he thought? That little shit.
A sigh escaped me, and I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to chase away the cold. “That wasn't my first kiss, Maddox. And I despise you because you did it without my permission. That... was unacceptable.”
He rubbed his cheek with his thumb and shook his head, still grinning. “Goddamn it. You've got a lot of rules.”
My lips curled. “And I guess, you’re one who hates rules?”
Maddox flashed me a wicked smile. “I break 'em, Lila. I love to break rules.”
“It makes you feel extra manly?” I taunted.
“No. It makes me feel alive.” His confession made me still, and I stared up at him, watching his expression for any lies, but all I saw was sincerity.
For a moment, Maddox’s pained face flashed through my brain: outside in the cold, sitting on that bench, looking so lost. I didn’t want to admit it before, but there was something about Maddox that really intrigued me.
I couldn’t forget that look on his face, it was tattooed in my memories. Maddox Coulter was more than Berkshire’s star quarterback. He was a complicated puzzle, and I wanted to tear him apart, layer by layer, so I could study him, delve into his soul and learn all his secrets.
A gust of wind breezed past us, and I quickly patted my hair down. This time, I couldn’t hold back the involuntarily shudder that racked through me. Maddox took notice, and he frowned, his eyebrows pinching together. “Why don't you have a proper jacket on?”
I hugged myself, rubbing my hands up and down my arms. “I didn't think it was going to be this cold. I thought the sweater would be enough.”
Before I could finish my sentence, and before I knew what was happening, he shrugged off his jacket and pushed it toward me.
I eyed the jacket, suspiciously. “What are you doing?”
Maddox circled my wrist with his finger and dragged me closer. He placed the jacket over my shoulders and gave me a pointed look, his face hard, until I succumbed and placed my arms through the sleeves. “Keeping you warm. I'm a man, Lila. I know you don't like me and think I'm an absolute asshole.”
His lips twitched when I scoffed. “Fine, I'm an asshole sometimes."
I gave him the look. Are you serious?
"Okay, all the time. But I still know how to treat a lady right.”
Treat a lady right? What a joke.
But still… my heart warmed. His scent was still heavy on the jacket, and I chewed on my lip when I noticed how good the smell of him was.
Maddox buttoned up the jacket for me and tugged the collar higher and closer, so my neck was covered. “There. Cozy enough?”
My lips parted, but I didn’t know how to answer, so I only gave him a tiny nod.
He pulled back and looked me up and down, a frown appearing on his face. “Jesus Christ. You’re so tiny.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks.”
I expected another joke coming from his lips. Instead, he looked tense and his brows were curled with a frown. “Are you sure it's safe for you to be out here like this, so late?”
Huffing in response, I rolled my eyes again. As if he cared. “I don't need a knight in shining armor. I can take care of myself.”
His blue eyes were so bright and vivid under the moonlight. It was tempting to get lost in them. But when he opened his mouth, he squashed down all the effects he had on me. “I'm not going to be your Knight because I know you aren't a damsel in distress. You’re more like the dragon in the fairy tale.”
My lips curled and against my better judgement, I found myself smirking. “If I could fry you right now, I would.”
It was easy to get lost in the easygoing expression on his face What were we arguing about before? Shit, I got sidetracked.
His devious grin was back, but there was something… pleasing about it. He was mocking me like before, being a bully, but this was a war with no venom. “I bet I'd taste good as an omelet.”
“Do you always have a reply to everything?” I asked, not expecting a particular reply since I already knew the answer.
Now, he was smirking like the devil. As if he had won this round. “Were you born this sassy or do I bring the sass outta you?”
I blinked, my brain stuttering at his question.
I was petty, yes. I never backed down without a fight, yes. But this newfound sass…
Swallowing past the heavy ball in my throat, my gaze skittered away from him. Maddox tended to make me feel on edge, like I was about to jump off the cliff. He irritated me, non-stop. But as bad as it sounded when I admitted it, I had grown used to him being a jerk. The ongoing battle between us was exhausting, but it had been something I started looking forward to. Our pranks and verbal sparring had become something I had grown used to.
The realization had me taking a step back.
I had always been competitive, but I had never found a proper opponent.
Not until Maddox.
His gaze shifted behind me, and his smile slid off his face. “Your bus is here,” he said, breaking through my muddling thoughts.
The bus came to stop in front of us, and I started forward, leaving him behind. My hands were shaking as I tried to take off his jacket. He held my hands in place, over the buttons. “Keep it. You can give it back later,” he said, his voice gruff and thick.
“Have a good night,” I breathed, stepping into the bus.
“Oh, Lila?”
I peeked at him over my shoulder. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants, a few stubborn strands of hair falling over his eyes. “You don’t hate me,” he stated firmly before cracking a smile. “Sweet dreams, Lila. I might visit you there.”
My lips twitched, and I turned away before he could see it. If you google Maddox's name, Cocky will be his definition. Maybe that should b
e his middle name. Maddox 'Cocky' Coulter.
I swiped my card and took a seat at the back of the bus. As it drove past where we had been, I saw Maddox still standing there, staring at the bus as I left him behind.
He was right.
We were at war, two very fierce opponents.
But…
I didn’t hate him.
Realization dawned to me that I didn’t loathe Maddox as much as I thought I did. Things just turned out a bit more complicated because it would have been easier if I hated him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Maddox
Hate is a strong word.
It’s a bitter but sweet fucking poison. It’s like cocaine, and once you’ve had a taste, it’s damn addictive. It becomes something more. It infiltrates your system, running through your veins until you can’t see anything other than red rage.
Hate kept me going.
Rage kept me alive. It became the oxygen I breathed.
See, I didn’t hate my parents.
I loathed them.
I wasn’t angry at them. No, it was something more. The rage festered over the years. I tended to it, watered it and watched it grow into something nasty and ugly.
Years ago, I found out it was easy to hate but so damn difficult to love.
But no matter how deep my hatred ran for them, though, I still looked into their eyes and hoped to see something more. Love for the child they brought into this fucked-up world and forgot to look after. Me.
My mother and I stood opposite of each other in the hallway of our home. She had a cashmere shawl wrapped around her shoulders and the moonlight shone through the window, casting a glow on her face. I was the carbon copy of my father, but I had my mother’s eyes. I waited for her to acknowledge me, I waited for her to smile and say a few words. I waited to see if she’d ask me if I ate today or if she wondered how school was. Something simple, something small… but something other than silence.
It had been two weeks since we saw each other. We lived in the same goddamn house, but my parents were never here.
She clenched her shawl tighter to her body and walked toward me. It was way past midnight; I had come home late, yet again, after partying with Colton and the boys. I smelled of alcohol, weed and the scent of cigarette was heavy in the air, clinging to my clothes.