by Amo Jones
I return to campus a lot happier than how I felt when I left. After Maddox took my ass to church on the halfpipe, we split up as he came back to school to catch his final class. I hit the school gym quickly in an attempt to burn off all the food I have consumed. I learned a bit from today, and training only helps my brain process all my thoughts.
For instance, one of the things I have come to terms with is that it might be too late. I think I already like him. Did I really ever stop from when we were kids? The crappy thing about meeting someone at a young age is that a crush can turn into an obsession the older you get. It either manifests or burns out. I don’t think the latter is what has happened between Maddox and I. The fact that we slept together probably doesn’t help either. It’s shit. I hate being human. I obviously already like him enough to call him a friend. But it couldn’t go further, even if I want it to. Our family’s connection is obviously deeper than what I had initially assumed. Not that I’d need to worry about it going further. Just like Leila said, he’s not that kind of guy. I really should have spent more time on the social side of college, then maybe I would know what I was up against as far as the Stone brothers were concerned. I have always kept my head down, and I’m embarrassed to admit that even if I had passed them previously on campus, I may not have looked at any of them a second time. I’m just not aware of my surroundings as much as I should be. I have missions in my head, and if you’re not on my daily mission, you probably won’t get noticed.
Maybe it’s time to learn about these brothers. I fire up my laptop and see if I can search them on Facebook to get an idea or even an inkling as to what they’re really like. I have a feeling that wherever they go, people know, they watch. The way Leila reacts to them says a lot, too, so maybe I really have been that oblivious to everyone. Not that it’s hard to gain Leila’s attention, but it is almost impossible to keep it. She’d forget your name as quickly as she learned it—but not these boys. I need to research a little.
I get onto Facebook. Notifications (0). I have two messages and three friend requests, though. I go to the messages first because sometimes my dad uses Facebook to send me funny memes and videos. He hasn’t quite figured out that you can tag people in the comments section instead of sending it to them in a message, but baby steps. He is getting there, and I am proud of him.
I begin removing my shirt when I click on the bubble. Sure enough, one was from Dad. I open it and see it’s a YouTube link. I roll my eyes and type out a reply.
Me: Dad, I’m not opening that.
My eyes snap to the side, catching a box of donuts with a note sitting on top. I tilt my head, reaching for the note.
Figured I can start sending you donuts now that we’re FRIENDS?
P.S. Check your Facebook.
I laugh, shaking my head while putting the note into the drawer of my computer desk. I reach blindly inside the box, gripping onto any donut and pulling it out. Tiramisu. The perfect man. He’d make someone a lucky girl one day.
I bite into it and moan, knowing full well I’m the only one in here. After surviving the carb and sugar attack the donut launched me into, I click the Friend Request tab.
Wiping my hands on my shorts, I swallow when I see “Maddox Stone has requested to add you as a friend on Facebook. Do you accept?” I think about pushing decline, but he did just send me donuts, so…
I accept his friend request and then go to the other two. The one below Maddox is Talon, and then below Talon is some weird name I don’t recognize. I have no friends in common with him and they don’t have a profile picture. Dodgy. Decline. I hit accept on Talon and then go back to the Messenger tab, remembering I had two messages, not just one.
Maddox: You get the donuts?
I start to type out a reply, but figure I owe him now. Pulling out my phone, I turn the camera on and flip it to selfie mode. Biting into the donut, I cross my eyes like I’m experiencing the best feeling ever, and then snap it. Licking the powdered sugar off my fingertips, I shake my head at the image. I look a mess. I have sweaty post-training hair, with a sweaty post-training bra on. My pink hair is a mass of hay piled onto the top of my head in a messy bun, and I have on zero makeup, which isn’t too surprising. I don’t wear it anyway, but my cheeks are still slightly flushed and my lips continue to hold their natural red tint. I open Facebook Messenger on my phone and hit send.
I see my dad has replied.
Daddio: Are you okay? Your mom said you might be upset about something. What has she done now?
That is sobering. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about my mom at the moment. I need more time to process her, and then maybe, when I’m not so weirded out about it, I’d ask her for her side. But I don’t like cheating, and I despise cheaters. I get that life is sometimes difficult and things aren’t black and white. I’m a strong advocate for the color grey, but that will never excuse adultery. I sort of expected more from my mom. I wanted more from her.
Me: I’m ok, Dad. I’m not ready to talk to her yet.
Daddio: Do you want to come home this weekend?
Me: I’m truly ok, Dad. I’ll make a trip back when I can. I love you. I’ll call you this week.
Daddio: Alright, baby girl. Watch that video. I love you too.
I roll my eyes before scrolling back up to find the link, clicking on it. My damn dad and his dry ass sense of humor. It’s a video of a goat terrorizing a village. Only my dad would find this amusing. God, I love him.
My eyes catch the new message, but I shut my laptop and pick up my phone, going to the dresser to take out some clothes. As much as I loved that donut, I need real food, stat. And a shower. I open up Maddox’s new message.
Maddox: You’re cute as shit, Rosé.
I smile, typing back a reply.
Me: It took you that long to reply with 5 words? Do I need to help you in English?
Maddox: My English is fine. You can help me with human anatomy though. I might need some help there…
I roll my eyes again. There is no way that this man needs help there.
Me: I’m sure you don’t need me for that.
There is a pause in the texting, so I quickly grab my clothes and towel, heading for the shower. We’re lucky we have our own small bathroom in our dorm room. I don’t know how I managed to get into this room, must have been sheer luck. It takes me about ten minutes to rip my sports bra off. I swear, my life always flashes before my eyes every time I need to get one off, and I am about to slip under the steaming water when my phone dings. Like a crack fiend, I reach for it and open up his latest message.
Maddox: You sure about that?
What kind of stupid reply is that? I put my phone down and slip back into the shower, relishing the pelting hot water rolling down my body with the smell of lavender and sage dancing in the steam. After quickly washing my hair, I turn off the faucet and get out, wrapping the towel around my body. My phone lighting up catches my eye, so I pick it up, opening it onto another message. Only this one is from Leila, the selfie we took during work one day flashing on my screen.
Lei: Did you get the donuts? He came over while you were at the gym.
Me: Yes. They were delicious.
Lei: You didn’t save me any!?
I snort, heading back into our bedroom.
Me: I don’t share, remember?
Lei: Good thing I stole one this morning then. Xo
I gasp and check the box, sure enough, there’s two missing.
Me: Wench.
Lei: ((hugs))
I scroll through my photos and then open the selfie that he had sent me the morning after our night. Cheeky fucker. I assign it to his number before opening his message again to finally reply.
Me: Hungry?
A text comes through instead, and the image of him that I saved under his number does weird things to me. Maybe I should remove it.
Maddox: For…
I don’t think I’m going to survive this friendship.
Me: Food!
Mad
dox: Sure. I’ll come pick you up in ten.
That was going to be my line, but whatever. I freeze. He’s coming in ten minutes? Shit. Diving into my wardrobe, I pull out a pair of loose ripped boyfriend jeans and my Metallica shirt that hangs off one shoulder. Dashing back into the bathroom, I fire up the hair dryer, but only get halfway, leaving my hair with some strands still wet. This won’t end well, my hair always frizzes when left half damp. There is a knock on my door. Surely he wouldn’t come up here, I mean, guys aren’t allowed in the dorms here. And besides, with Dahlia at the front desk, there would be no way Maddox could sneak past her. Unless she was otherwise occupied with donuts. I really need to make her my friend. We obviously had something vital in common.
Raking my hair out of my face, I open the door to Maddox leaning against the frame, already smirking at me. He doesn’t have his cap on this time, now he’s in dark jeans, a white Henley hiding underneath a heavy leather jacket, and by the looks of the dampness of his hair, I’d say he just got out of the shower not long ago. The smell of soap laced leather and a dash of cologne consumes me in ways that I don’t really want to be consumed right now. He smells like man with a lot of sin. Or like sin with a little bit of man. It’s intoxicating and forbidden, and probably poisonous, but a real nice way to wake up dead. My mouth waters. Fuck.
“Hi.” Suddenly, I was shy.
His eyes drop down my body, right down to my toes before coming up again. “Hey.”
I hitch my thumb over my shoulder. “I just need to grab my shoes and wallet. Come in.” I leave him in the dust to grab my things.
Him in my space feels…strangely normal, but it is doing funny things to my imagination, which I don’t appreciate. Tying up my original Vans, I snag my little coin pouch from my bed. I have a small obsession with coins, and I hate anything big and extra. So I’ve always carried around a small leather coin pouch. It’s big enough to hold my cards inside and some cash while being easy to push inside a pocket.
I catch him looking at all the photos that are scattered around the room.
“Want a donut?” I ask, unable to hide my smirk. His eyes meet mine. I take this chance to see what photo he was looking at. It’s one of me and my dad after a football game. I would have been around eight, so pretty much around when I first met Maddox.
He shakes his head slowly. “I’m good. Let’s go.”
Walking out of our room and down the hall, we fall into an easy silence. Once we hit outside, he heads toward a black muscle car.
“Um…wait, is this your car?”
His eyes fly between me and the car. “Yeah, why?”
I grin like a small child left unattended in a candy store. “This is freaking amazing.”
His shoulders visibly relax a little. “Thought you were about to tell me it’s old, then I would have had to cancel our friendship.”
I chuckle a little, reaching for the door handle. “Nah, no way. It’s beautiful.”
Driving there is long-ish, but without Maddox’s driving, it could have been longer. He takes a turn down a long gravel road, lined with overgrown trees and ancient brick statues.
“Are you taking me here to kill me?” The sun is just setting, so there’s a beautiful burnt orange hue setting fire to the sky.
He does his half smile thing, and it’s mysterious, smart, sexy and…nope. “If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t drive so far out to do it. Do you know how much gas that would use?” He quirks an eyebrow at me and I shake my head, smiling. “In all seriousness, I thought you’d like this place.”
Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “This where you take all your dates? Or just Stacey…” Abort, abort. I shouldn’t have gone down that road. I close my eyes and internally cuss myself out.
He sighs. “I don’t date. Ever. I fuck and that’s it.” I open my mouth to give him points for his crass mouth when the sight of bright fairy lights catches the corner of my eye. I look straight ahead. Words get stuck in my throat because my God, this place is beautiful.
“Wow…” The setting is outstanding. It’s a two-story cedar cottage, the aged wood stained in dark brown tarnish. The windows glow in the center of white trimmings. The front patio that overlooks the driveway has tables and chairs scattered around neatly. Bright fairy lights illuminate every inch of the cottage structure. More lights hang around the patio, up the steps that lead to the front entrance, and even curve around the window trimmings on the outside. Maddox pulls us to a stop, the deep rumble of his V8 vibrating under my butt. The gloss black Hemi Cuda is long lost in the back of my brain now. All I can see, all that takes up the entire vicinity of my head, is the beautiful setting in front of me. I must have been staring a long time because my door opens, and Maddox stands with his hand out, waiting for me to take it.
I smile appreciatively up at him, placing my hand in his. “Maddox,” I whisper as he guides me across the gravel, handing the car keys to a valet boy waiting at a podium. I feel slightly under-dressed, and for the first time in my life, I care a little. I don’t know why, but this place feels sacred.
“I know,” is all he says. It isn’t in a cocky way, it was in an appreciative way. He guides me up the stairs where an older man greets us. He wears a dark maroon suit and has aged, tired eyes. “Good evening, Mr. Stone. Will you be sitting at your usual?”
I freeze. I realize I’m being a little irrational, but it’s my first instinct to jump to conclusions. So, he did bring other girls here? I’m not stupid enough to ask again, though.
Maddox shakes his head. “No, a booth.”
The doorman, who is named Billy by the looks of his nametag, simply nods politely and then gestures for us to enter. “I’ll escort you to booth four.”
Maddox follows him with me not far behind. The inside is just as striking as the outside. There’s no harsh lighting. The entire interior is filled with more draping fairy lights. Some hang professionally from the roof like droplets of water, while others simply line the tables, chairs, and walls. Two candles light the center of every table, one tall and one short. It is breathtakingly different. I have never witnessed anything like it. I can’t be mad at him, even if he has brought girls here. It’s not like we were dating, are dating, or are even going to date. I think at this point, we just generally enjoy each other’s company.
I think.
For now.
Well, I don’t mind him, but then again, I don’t really know him. Shit.
Billy points to a small booth in the corner where a curtain hangs above the seating, giving more privacy should we want it. He then points to the menus on the table. Literally, on the table. As in a tablet on the table.
“As Mr. Stone is aware, we’re trialing a new system. You place your order using the touchscreen on the table. Drinks, entrée and main dishes, all come out rather quickly after ordering, so we advise not to order all at once but rather separately, once finished. There’s the drink menu beside the salads and the desserts underneath it. If you have any questions, push the red button on the tablet and I will come to you. Have a lovely evening.” Then he bows his head before disappearing.
I sigh. “I want to live here.” I run my finger over the tablet, seeing everything lined up easily. There are tabs defining which menus you want to order from. I start with drinks, just one, to calm my nerves. I hit “White Russian” because I’m craving something velvety, then continue to order the steak salad.
“You like it?” Maddox grins up at me proudly while tapping on the tablet.
“I more than like it,” I admit, my eyes fluttering around the place. “It’s like a hidden treasure. It’s truly stunning. What’s it called?” I didn’t pay attention to the name because I was too busy admiring everything else. There are people in almost every booth, and more outside on the patio, as well us upstairs too, probably. I’m not sure what could be upstairs, maybe a draaanking bar. Leila would be up there in a heartbeat.
“Dutch!” he says, running his index finger over his lip.
I
smile appreciatively, then realize I’m watching his finger. I need a distraction. “So, now that I know that you, Talon, and Wolf are brothers, who is the oldest brother?”
He clears his throat, leaning back in his chair. His eyes glimmer with mischief. “Who do you think?”
I pretend to ponder over my answer, but I already know who. “Talon.” It isn’t just his size, because he is a lot thicker than Maddox and even bigger than Wolf, but it’s the way he holds himself. He just seems like the protector of the three.
“Interesting. And where do you think I place?” He cranks his neck, his eyes swaying manically. What was I doing? Was he enjoying this? Probably.
“Middle. I’d say Wolf was the youngest.”
He tilts forward, his elbows resting on the table. Another waiter, a young girl this time, brings out our drinks and then bows her head at Maddox. “Sir.”
Sir?
I quirk my brow at him questionably but tuck that in to ask him about later.
He didn’t even acknowledge the waiter, his eyes remaining solely on me. He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, I guess you got it right. Sort of.”
“Sort of?” I ask, tilting my head and sipping my drink.
“We’re triplets, Ame.”
“Oh, wow.” Then it sinks in. Their poor mother had to give birth to three, probably above average-sized boys. Ouch.
We fall into easy conversation that ranges from sports to his fighting, to my dreams and aspirations.
“So you’re still fighting?” I ask around a piece of steak.
He takes a sip of his drink. “Yeah, I do. It’s a little more serious now, though. Sort of takes the fun out of it.”