“Sorry about that. She’s not coming with us. Thank you for your help.” I turn and catch Duncan’s look as he nods my way in understanding. I find Phoebe over a way, against a wall. I walk up to her and pull her to me as she begins sobbing.
“Hey, it’s okay. Look at me, Phoebe.”
She shakes her head no as she buries her face in my bicep. I take a small step back and look at her, urging her gaze to meet mine as she fights it.
“It’s okay. I promise. Maybe you’ll hate California. I mean, who can really stand the perfect weather and nice people? Surely you’ll go insane and miss winter and beg for me to pick you up at the airport.”
“Maybe.” Sniffles and a runny nose don’t stop me from kissing her.
“I love you, Phoebe. Always. This is just a pit stop on our road to forever. Keep the faith. I’ll talk to you in a few hours when we change planes. I have to go, that security line is growing, and I only have forty-five minutes to get to my plane.”
“Okay.”
I kiss her again and make my way to the security line. For some reason, luck is on my side and TSA opens another line, making the wait far less than I originally thought. I’m only a few people from handing my ID and phone to the agent when I hear Phoebe shouting. She’s standing on a bench only a few feet from me.
“I love you, Madsen. Tell those women in New York you have a girlfriend!”
I smile and nod my head. She does it. She puts a label on it. She declares her love—publicly. She proves she knows we’re more. That we’re forever. We’ll make it.
Just a pit stop on our road.
Six weeks later
Three minutes until Phoebe calls. I’m sitting at my computer tapping my fingers impatiently. It’s still hot in New York, and my apartment, less apartment and more shoe box, doesn’t have air conditioning. This is the reason for me sitting here in only a pair of basketball shorts, waiting for my girlfriend to call me.
Well, and the video chat sex fest we’re scheduled to have. Yep, six weeks apart and we’ve succumbed to video chatting sex. Of course, it’s better than old school phone sex because I get to watch Phoebe as she comes. And it’s still my favorite look.
I smile as the ring signals my incoming call. Leaning back, I click the answer button and watch as my girl fills the screen. She’s wearing a light pink tank with tiny straps that are straining to contain her chest. Her freckles are in full force, and her hair is down in natural waves over her shoulders. I can tell she’s forgone a bra, and I’m instantly hard.
“Hey, baby,” Phoebe coos, twisting a piece of her hair around her finger. Flirty and coy Phoebe is a lot of fun these days.
“Girlfriend.”
Raising a brow, Phoebe smiles. “Boyfriend.”
“Fuck, that never gets old.”
“You’re ridiculous, Madsen.” Maybe I am, but it’s true. I’ve waited a long time for her to make us official, and I’ll never tire of hearing her utter the word. Phoebe hops up and down in her seat, clapping her hands, and I confirm she isn’t wearing a bra. “Babe, guess what?”
“Hmm . . .” I’m distracted by her barely there tank top and the outline of her nipples through the cotton.
Snapping her fingers, Phoebe catches my attention. I look up quickly to find her smirking before she speaks. “You’re such a perv.” I don’t disagree. “I love you.” She sighs. “You know that, right?” This is something new for Phoebe, telling me out of nowhere that she loves me.
“I do.”
“Ugh, don’t say those words. They make me think of bridezilla. Kelsey is driving me nuts. She’s pissed I won’t make it back as planned for my fitting.”
“She’s not the only one disappointed. I can only hold my own dick so many times. Even I’m sick of it.”
Phoebe’s laugh fills my room as I take my computer and lie on my bed. She does the same and, like we do every night, we begin to talk about our day. Some nights this is all we do. We plan on getting each other off but instead, we talk. We plan. Phoebe tells me about her work and how quickly the company is growing. I’m unbelievably proud of her and make sure she knows that. Her parents are over the moon excited for her, and her dad has told her more than once if she wants to move here he’ll pull some strings to get her in with one of the department stores. She’s refused.
I’m bummed that I won’t see her in a few weeks as planned. It’s been far too long for us to be apart, but I waited years for Phoebe to return my feelings, I’m not going to let a few weeks get me down. Besides, my work hasn’t slowed down, and although I’m still learning and very entry level, I’m busy enough I wouldn’t get much time off if she were here. When we realized we wouldn’t have time together, we planned a weekend together closer to the holidays. Unfortunately for me, her mom wasn’t having that and made Phoebe promise to come to their house instead. I’m hoping to get a few extra days off to join her.
“Do you think there will be sharks on the beach?” Phoebe asks this at least twice a week. She’s not scared of the possibility, she’s excited.
“I hope not. That shit is crazy, babe.”
“Whatever, don’t be a baby.”
Phoebe tells me about the beauty of sharks, and I, like always, disagree with it all. Of course, there was a time a few weeks ago I would have liked her to encourage Jackson to swim out to look for them. Even after I explained to him that Phoebe and I are committed, he still tried to ask her out. I get it, Phoebe is close to perfect. But, she’s taken. So very taken.
When we passed security after Phoebe told me, and the entire security line, that she loved me and told me I had a girlfriend, I pulled out my phone, changed the name Phoebe put in my phone for Jackass, and sent him a text message.
Me: Hey, it’s Madsen.
Jackass: What’s up?
Me: I want to get one thing clear before I get on this plane.
Jackass: Go ahead.
Me: Make no mistake, if you try to be anything other than my girlfriend’s boss and friend, I will get on the first flight back to Cali and we’ll have a conversation.
Then, I sent him a gif of a scene from Fight Club and another immediately after of a guy pointing from his eyes to the screen. I think he got the hint and has since been less available to Phoebe’s every whim. Plus, her new roommate can’t stand him. Something about no call after a string of promises. I don’t know what that’s about, but as long as Miranda is living with Phoebe, I know Jackson will keep his distance.
When I left Santa Cruz, I expected the long-distance relationship to be difficult. It’s not the relationship that’s difficult, it’s not being able to touch Phoebe. Not being able to sit naked in my bed, eating Chinese food every weekend and pretending I can’t stand the romance movies she makes me watch. But, like I tell her all the time, these missed trips are just a small part of our story.
“Hey baby?” I’m interrupting, but I’m not as excited as she is about a new city being added to the Housewives franchise.
“Yeah?” Phoebe replies, stretching her arms and causing her tank to lift, exposing her tan stomach.
“You know how much I love you?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Good. And as much as I want to hear all about the Real Housewives of Winnemucca or whatever, I would really rather watch you take that top off.”
Phoebe offers me a big smile and before I can blink, she’s shed the tank and sits before me topless. Damn I love this girl. I can’t wait until she’s in my arms again.
Big things are coming for Phoebe and me. Life changing and important moments. I only hope when those big things happen, we’ll be in the same city.
Or at the very least, the same coast.
Stay tuned for the conclusion of Phoebe & Madsen’s love story in Winter Break.
I’m keeping this section short this time. Thank you to the amazing readers. You keep me going and your love of Phoebe & Madsen . . . well, it is exactly why I do this crazy writing gig. Thank you.
The biggest hugs and smooch
es to my amazing team – Karen L. of The Proof Is in the Reading, LLC; Alyssa Garcia of Uplifting Designs; and my patient assistant, Stacy Garcia.
My reader group, Sassy Romantics, I have no words for how much you inspire me. Thank you so much for the daily laughs, butt kickings, and virtual hugs.
Alyssa, Andee, Chelle, Jodie, Kiersten, and Stacy – Without you, Phoebe wouldn’t be nearly as sassy and Madsen not nearly as sexy. Thank you for supporting me.
Kacey and Marisol – Thank you for being my last two pairs of eyes. You catch the smallest details and I’m grateful.
I always ALWAYS miss someone and it’s never intentional. I’m just naturally spacey. Meet me once, it explains it all.
Finally, to my husband. You made me believe in love and for that reason, perfect book boyfriends like Madsen exist.
Andrea Johnston spent her childhood with her nose in a book and a pen to paper. An avid people watcher, her mind is full of stories that yearn to be told. A fan of angsty romance with a happy ending, super sexy erotica and a good mystery, Andrea can always be found with her Kindle nearby fully charged.
Andrea lives in Idaho with her family and two dogs. When she isn’t spending time with her partner in crime aka her husband, she can be found binge watching all things Bravo and enjoying a cocktail. Nothing makes her happier than the laughter of her children, a good book, her feet in the water, and cocktail in hand all at the same time.
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Other books by Andrea Johnston
Life Rewritten
Country Road Series
Whiskey & Honey
Tequila & Tailgates
Martinis & Moonlight
Break Series
Spring Break
Chapter 1
Ben
I felt it deep in my bones the minute she walked through the door.
What “it” is, I’m not quite sure. When the door opened I felt a shift in the atmosphere. As if someone lit a fire that burned only in my soul. My attention caught, I was bamboozled. This girl, no more than five feet tall, managed to drown out the sounds around me without even noticing I was in the same establishment.
Handling the large wooden door of Country Road as if it weighed no more than a feather, she seemed both determined and frightened as she walked through. Tossing her hair, the color of the most violent fire, over her shoulder, straightening her back and tilting her chin up in determination, I enjoyed the view as her hips swayed in perfect tempo to the drum solo coming from the speakers and she walked across the room. The way her jeans complement every curve, she not only has my mouth feeling like the Sahara Desert but my dick has suddenly awoken from its recent hibernation.
It isn’t either of those things that have me ignoring my friends though. No, it’s something about the fierce way she has made her entrance yet not made eye contact or smiled at a single person as she made her way to the bar. Even from here, without so much as speaking a word, I can tell that she is something special. A woman made up of layers and layers of intrigue. Someone who I have to know.
“Dude, are you even listening?”
“I don’t think he’s heard a single word any of us said since she walked in. His dick is obviously in charge tonight.”
I hear those assholes; I just don’t have anything to contribute to whatever debate they’re having. Besides, Owen is right. Somehow my normal level-headed self seems to have left the room and my previously mentioned dick is in charge tonight.
All of our lives I’ve been the logical and straight-laced one in this group. Suddenly a sassy redhead has taken all of my logic and tossed it aside. I’m acting like a pubescent teen. The problem is, I’m quite a few years from being a teen, and even when I was, I never had this reaction to a woman.
Nope. I, Bentley James Sullivan, am the good guy. The guy who approaches life with a plan and never does a single thing without one. Hell, I even plan spontaneity. Yeah, I teeter on the edge of boring.
I take another drink of my beer as I turn to Owen. “Kiss my ass. I heard you, and for your information, Iron Man always wins.”
Without a second thought I return my attention to the beauty who has garnered all of my interest. She’s made her way to a stool at the bar and is waiving her arms around as if she’s the conductor of an orchestra. I can tell from the expression of the bartender, also my sister Ashton, that whoever has her this fired up should stay clear of her.
The only time her hands still is when she grabs the shot glass my sister has placed in front of her. From where I’m sitting I can see that she doesn’t even shudder as she takes the shot of dark and beautiful whiskey. I don’t care what anyone says, there’s something fascinating about a woman who drinks whiskey. Just the thought makes me smile.
“Why don’t you just go over and talk to her, Ben?”
I shoot a look at Jameson over my beer bottle as I drain it. My best friend since, well forever, he knows I’m not the “hook up in a bar” kind of guy. But, I won’t deny this girl has sparked a little something. Something familiar tugs at me, but I can’t place it.
“Nah, I’ll pass,” I say unconvincingly. I really want to go over to this girl and tell her the fucker who made her this upset isn’t worth it.
I’m not psychic, but honestly what else could have her this upset?
The reality is, guys are dicks and the only person who could make a woman this upset.
Don’t get me wrong, we’re not all assholes, but the reality of it all is we screw up.
All the fucking time.
I sit here with three variations of the asshole to good guy makeup in front of me. The four of us have been best friends since high school, more like brothers than anything else. When I accepted a college scholarship that took me more than three hundred miles away from home, I assumed we’d grow apart, that I would grow apart from the four of them. I was wrong.
Owen Butler and Landon Montgomery are two of the coolest and most loyal friends a guy could ask for. We’ve had each other’s backs through a lot of dumb shit, and not only managed to stay friends but we’ve never screwed each other over either.
Jameson Strauss is like a brother to me. When we were kids we were convinced we were some sort of dynamic duo considering my middle name was close to his first name. Only the reality is that my middle name is a family name and he was named after his dad’s favorite whiskey. Regardless, we didn’t care and thought it made us pretty bad ass.
Jameson is the best person I know and gives to others without a second thought. I would trust him with my life. Of course, he’s also a bit of a slut and has probably screwed half the women in this town, but he’s not a bad guy. Sure, a few have declared their undying love and begged him to do the same. For the most part he’s managed to come out of each encounter unscathed and unattached.
Then there’s me. The relationship guy. I’ve had two girlfriends in my twenty-nine years. Well, two real girlfriends. Stolen kisses on the playground and the occasional hand-holding in middle school don’t count.
“Ben, why are you staring at…”
Before Owen can finish his sentence, Jameson spills his beer.
“What’s your problem, J? That was a rookie move,” Landon says as he starts wiping at the spilled beer with his hand.
“Sorry, I thought there was a bee or something. I just jumped.”
All three of us look at Jameson like he’s crazy. Unfazed by our confusion, he signals for a waitress to come over to our table with a towel.
“Hey, Beth, sorry about the mess,” Jameson says, offering this poor girl a smile that is a little predatory. I can tell from her reaction to him that there’s a little history there but not in a bad way.
“Beth, this i
s Ben. Ben, this is Beth.”
“Hey there, Ben. You look familiar, have I served you before?”
“Nah, Bethy, Ben’s been gone from home for a hundred years. I think the last time he was in here we had fake IDs. He probably looks familiar because he’s Ashton’s brother.”
Bethy? Good God, he’s laying it on thick.
“Oh, Bentley. Ashton was just telling me that you were moving back. Does she know you’re here? You should go say hi to her; she’s just at the bar talking to…”
“So anyway, thanks for cleaning up. Looks like you’re busy. We don’t want to keep you.”
This poor girl, Jameson doesn’t even let her finish a sentence before he’s sending her off.
“Hey, Ben, why don’t you just take that twenty and go grab us another round? I’ve got a little spill here in my lap or I’d do it myself.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I grab the money and head to the bar. I already know I’m screwed.
Summer Break (Phoebe & Madsen Part 2) Page 8