Craving Control

by Kylie Hillman

  As toasts go, it’s not my finest effort. Yet, I wouldn’t change this moment for all the money in the Fitzgerald fortune.

  “To us,” Maddi raises her glass to meet mine, then takes a sip. Just as she opens her mouth to say something more, a shadow looms over our table and she clams up.

  “Would you like to order?” the waiter asks.

  I scowl at him. He shrinks away from my unbridled menace, urgent apology written all over his face. A sharp rebuke is on the tip of my tongue when Maddi interrupts. “If you’ll give us a minute, we’ll be ready. I’m still deciding between two choices.”

  The waiter steps away from our table. He hovers just out of earshot, waves of uncertainty flowing from him. Maddi ignores the tension that crackles around us, instead drawing my attention back to the menu.

  “So, Beef Carpaccio or Chicken Scaloppini?”

  The deft way that she’s defused the situation tells me that she’s had plenty of experience dealing with irrational men. In an instant, I take this new knowledge and decide that I’m not going to become someone else she needs to tread on eggshells around. Proving that I’m different from the other men in her life is paramount to destroying her defences.

  Swallowing down the bitter taste that the thought of other men, even her own brothers, brings to my mouth, I offer my opinion lightly. “The chicken is delicious, but it really comes down to whether you prefer red or white meat. What is your preference?”

  Maddi’s eyes widen, like she’s surprised that I bothered to ask. She masks it quickly, but I saw it and I recognised it for what it was. A point in the pro’s column for me.

  “I think you’re right.” Maddi signals the waiter back to our table. “I’d like the ravioli entrée and Chicken Scaloppini for main.”

  When she looks at me, her left eyebrow is expertly arched with expectation. My lips twitch with the need to laugh at her new take-charge attitude. It’s an impulse that I barely swallow down long enough to place my own order.

  “The ravioli sounds good,” I say. I was planning on having the salmon until I decide that this is the perfect opening. “And I’ll have the Carpaccio main.”

  “A bottle of your finest non-alcoholic chardonnay, as well.” I call after the waiter as he heads for the kitchen.

  Maddi giggles. Score two for me. That’s twice tonight. The giddy feeling I get from being responsible for another genuine moment of pleasure with Maddi is almost too much to handle. Trying to make Maddi laugh could become addictive if I’m not careful.

  “You don’t have to go non-alcoholic for me. I’m happy with my water,” she offers.

  “Nonsense,” I tell her with a broad grin. “The Chardonnay tastes the same whether it’s alcoholic or not, plus how will you properly rate the piece of carpaccio you plan to steal from my plate if we don’t have the correct beverage to wash it down?”

  Pure happiness radiates from Maddi as she laughs again. “Well, the thought did cross my mind when you ordered it. The curiosity would’ve eventually got the better of me. My dad always says it’ll be my downfall one day.”

  Her explanation is too close for comfort. My own inquisitiveness has come at a price at times. Hell, the plan I had to wreak revenge on Benji has suddenly morphed into something bigger, simply because I wanted to dig deeper into Maddi’s head.

  “Curiosity killed the cat,” I quip.

  “But satisfaction brought it back,” we say together.

  Our eyes lock over the table. Sparks fly—not literally, but definitely metaphorically. The ambivalence that’s been in her expression the whole time I’ve known her evaporates in a second. For once, Maddi looks at me with keen interest and she regards me as someone worth her time and not as that slightly annoying person she’s merely tolerating at best.

  Was I worried that my need to make her laugh was going to become addictive? That’s nothing on how having her acknowledge me as worthy makes me feel. I could become a slave to this emotion without much effort.

  “I’ve never met anyone else who knows the full saying.”

  “I’m a man of many layers,” I say with a shrug. “Most of them filled with useless facts about elephant knees and the life cycle of bovinae species. According to my friends, it can get pretty embarrassing when I head off on one of my tangents.”

  “A man after my own heart, my friends say exactly the same thing.”

  There is an easy air between us and it continues when our meals arrive. I let Maddi taste my carpaccio. She gives me a bite of her scaloppini. We share mutual disappointment over the taste of the wine. If I believed in crap like fate or benevolent deities, I might be led to think that I’ve found someone special in Maddi. Fortunately, I’m not prone to flights of fancy. We might be clicking right now, but that’s because I made it happen, not due to some type of cosmic influence—no matter how fast her laughter might make my heart race.

  The atmosphere remains all the way through a shared dessert of chocolate fondue—something that Maddi has never tasted properly before as well—and follows us during the journey home. This time when I move to open her door, I have her whole attention and she takes my hand without hesitation.

  “Thank you for a wonderful night,” I say with genuine inflection as I walk her toward the door.

  Maddi pauses two steps before the front veranda. We’re in a dark corner of the garden, out of sight, and apparently out of mind. The sound of beers clinking and darts hitting the board can be heard from the direction of the back yard, but no one has come to welcome Maddi home just yet.

  “I had a great time,” Maddi says. She stands on her tip-toes and presses her lips gently against my cheek. When I move to take her in my arms, she deftly dodges my embrace and steps into the stream of light that shines from the front porch. “I especially enjoyed the beef. It was... different.”

  All of a sudden, the contentment that had lulled me into a false sense of security tonight disappears. In its place, a great, big clanging alarm bell emerges. Its shrill tones alert me to the hazard I can already see coming.

  “Different can be good,” I venture.

  She nods her head and I realise that I’ve just stepped straight into her trap.

  “It is.” Maddi continues to nod. I watch her throat work before she tries her hardest to soften the upcoming blow with a tight smile. Good intentions aside, it does nothing to take the sting out of her next words. “That’s why I’m so happy to have you as a friend to try different things with. Everyone else would think I was crazy, but with you, it’s all friendly fun.”

  SIX

  It’s been a long time since I was last willingly present on school grounds. Hell, it’s been years since I was even at school. Some might call my presence desperate, but I’d prefer to label it prudent. Maddi was mistaken when she said we were friends, and she needs me to set her straight on that error as soon as possible.

  Her firm placement of me in the friendzone after our date prevented me from sleeping until the early hours of this morning—a full fifty-six hours later. I kept replaying the conversation over and over in my mind, letting it goad me with its poisonous reminders of how certain victory was snatched out of my hands, leaving only the sickly aftertaste of unexpected defeat. Within that time, I’d worried myself into a manic state that meant I needed to take one of my pills before I gave into the temptation to do something stupid—like drive back out to Maddi’s farm and show her with my cock, and my fingers, and my teeth, just how far from being her friend I really am.

  A school bell sounds, and in an instant, the parking lot is filled with high schoolers who are enjoying the first part of their summer break by participating in a local athletics carnival. I remember those days, where living in a small town meant joining whatever sports were on offer so I didn’t expire from boredom over the long Christmas break. Nowadays, I’m so far removed from the experience that seeing them all milling about makes me feel old.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Benji O’Brien rams his shoulder into mine as
he walks up to me. “Pretty sure they have laws against freaks like you being on school grounds.”

  Hugo has come with me. He’s waiting in the passenger side of my car, scrolling through Tinder or some similar app for his next fuck and chuck target. When he sees Benji and the middle O’Brien boy begin to circle me with their footballer mates, he throws his phone onto the centre console and gets out the car. Despite being vastly outnumbered, he appears calm as he settles his bulk against the nudge bar.

  It’s first-class deception. I know he’ll go H.A.M. on anyone who tries to come for me.

  “How ya been?” Hugo asks Benji. Maddi’s twin steps back from me, rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Turning his attention to my best friend, naked hostility emanates from his hard glare while he tries to keep his mocking expression from slipping.

  “Better than you,” Benji snorts. “Not that that’s hard.”

  His little crew all react like it’s the funniest comeback they’ve ever heard.

  Hugo shakes his head but doesn’t say anything further. With Benji, there’s little point. He does as he pleases when he pleases since, publicly at least, he’s the victor in our ongoing feud. This was made clear nearly three years ago when he had me and Hugo banned from the state football league for life over an incident that had, until then, been a standard ritual for our team. Normally a little bit of hazing between teammates wouldn’t be an issue, except Benji had decided that he was above it all. Like his so-called exceptional talent meant that he got to decide that he was exempt from starting at the bottom like the rest of us.

  Benji had staged a mutiny that I didn’t see coming until it was too late. I was nineteen at the time and being headhunted by multiple teams until word of my misdeeds got out. I’d allowed an impertinent fourteen-year-old take me down.

  The memory still burns.

  “He’s with me.” I let my hatred for him colour my tone. “And, since we’re not carrying backpacks and preparing for remedial lessons over the summer, I’d say we’re one up on you.”

  The moment I say it, I know I should have kept my mouth shut. Unfortunately, my bitterness tends to loosen my tongue at the most inopportune times.

  “Well, it would’ve been weird if you didn’t bring your girlfriend with you,” Benji snarks while his entourage titters like a bunch of debutants at their first society ball. “Permanently joined at the ass, aren’t we boys?”

  From between two of the brick classroom buildings, I notice Maddi and a female friend coming toward us. Even from this distance, I can see that she’s frowning at her brothers and their group of testosterone-filled douchebags, and it gives me the clue I need to decide how to play this unexpected confrontation.

  Maybe my loosened tongue can work in my favour?

  “Nah, we’re not always joined together,” I drawl. Stepping back into Benji’s space, I whisper the rest of my taunt while looking him straight in the eye. “Sometimes we let Maddi get between us and make her the filling in our sandwich.”

  He recoils like I’ve hit him. Capitalising on his outrage, I rub salt into the wound seconds before Maddi comes into earshot. After clicking my teeth together twice, I lick my lips and say, “Mmm hmm. And what a tasty little snack she is.”

  I wish I could mess with Benji like this every day because his reaction couldn’t have been better if I’d scripted it. Rearing back, he pulls his fist into a punching position and swings it at my face. Since I knew it was coming, I manage to get just far enough out his range for his blow to glance harmlessly off my cheek.

  A quick peek confirms that Maddi’s seen what happened, so I take the opportunity to further ham it up for her. I cup my eye to shield the lack of injury from the onlookers, then bend in half like I’m in pain. In truth, I’ve had mosquito bites that throbbed more.

  “You’ll stay the fuck away from my sister.” Benji attempts to swing at me again, but his best friend, Kyle, yanks him away. Despite my cramped position, I can see truth in his eyes when he spits his threat at me. “If I see you near Maddi, I’ll kill you.”

  Benji is shouting at the top of his lungs. The teenagers that are still milling out into the carpark have stopped to watch the spectacle he’s creating. While he’s losing his shit, I stand by with my hand over my eye and a completely fake expression of shock on my face. Kyle wraps his arms around Benji’s waist to restrain his best friend. It’s a battle he loses until the middle O’Brien boy steps in.

  “Benji, for God sake, calm down! One of the teachers will see you and shit will hit the fan,” Joel O’Brien says to his older brother.

  I couldn’t care less about the school faculty. My concentration is centred on Maddi. Her expression is everything I could have wished for and more. She storms over to her twin and pushes him in the chest.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Protecting you from this fucker,” he yells at her. “I told you he was no good, but you’re too bloody head strong to listen, like usual.”

  Maddi flinches at his dressing down. If I hadn’t been watching her so closely, I would have missed it because half a second later, she’s back to breathing fire. The scorching rage in her expression takes my breath away. She’s magnificent. So outraged. So very indignant. My veins burn with the need to see her self-righteous visage stripped away until she learns that Benji’s correct.

  I am no good. And her pigheadedness is only aiding me in my mission.

  Keeping the side of my face that he hit out turned away from everyone, I try to push my way between Maddi and Benji. I want to capitalise on my success and get her to leave with me. Joel and the rest of Benji’s cohort of douchebags don’t like my new tactic. They crowd around me, separating me from the O’Brien siblings, before one of them kicks me in the back of the knee. It takes my leg out from underneath me and I have to grab hold of the closest one to stop myself from falling.

  This sets off a tidal wave of movement that keeps me caught inside their circle while they take it in turns to shove me. Hugo finally gets his useless self to my side, but it’s too late. Benji and Joel have ushered Maddi to the edge of the school parking lot where the thumping sound of a Harley-Davidson grows louder as one of the black death machines their scummy fraternity loves so much approaches at speed.

  “Here,” Hugo says. He takes hold of my right arm and helps me back upright as the footballers that surrounded me dissipate in a disturbing rush.

  “I don’t need your help,” I snarl, snatching my arm away.

  Maddi’s friend, Nita, steps forward, but I wave her off as well.

  “I’m fine. As if they’d be able to—”

  “Brendan, I must have a word with you.” The snivelling annoyance that calls himself principal at this high school interrupts me.

  I ignore him and concentrate on brushing down the front of my jeans. Flexing my leg, I move it back and forth to test whether it will let me put my full pressure on it. Once I’m satisfied that it will, I greet the principal with a sneer in my expression and obvious disdain in my voice.

  “Hartford Hector Hannigan. It’s been too long.”

  My use of his full name has the desired effect. He shuffles on the spot and refuses to meet my eyes, instead peering at the ground as he continues his objections.

  “I thought we had an understanding. You and your—” He shoots a look of contempt at Hugo. “friend are not allowed on school grounds.”

  Laughing at his petty description of Hugo, I wave a hand around the almost empty carpark. “As you can see, school is over. No harm, no foul. I’m not violating any agreements.”

  The rumble of the motorcycle that was approaching earlier becomes too noisy to talk over. Harford says something in response to my previous statement, but I’m not interested in listening to him any longer. The thrill I get from stomping all over his rather obvious, and very unrequited, crush on me is gone. My attention has been captured by Maddi and her very enthusiastic response to the man who’s gotten off his bike to greet her.

 
She takes a quick run-up and jumps into his arms. Wrapping her long legs around his waist, she smiles as he pulls her close to him, cradling her ass with his hands. He swings her in a circle and her giggles float across the parking lot. My breath hitches in my throat, my chest tightening like it’s caught in a vice when Maddi lays a hand on either side of the man’s face and gives him a quick kiss on the lips.

  “What the fuck?” I forget that I’m in the middle of an argument and state my confusion out loud. “Who the hell is he?”

  Hartford doesn’t answer my question, choosing to use my distraction to his advantage. “I’m demanding that you and Mr. Raleigh remove yourself from the school premises. If you refuse to do so, I will be forced to inform the authorities... or your grandfather.”

  “Whatever.” With a flick of my hand, I dismiss him and begin walking in the direction of Maddi and the mystery motorcycle man.

  My knee gives up after two steps, and I stumble. Nita has followed me for some reason, and she grabs my arm as I go down. I’d be thankful if the smile she gives me when I look at her wasn’t filled with neediness. Not willing to go down that path with her again—the first time came with repercussions of the clinging variety that were not balanced out by her skill between the sheets—I attempt to stand on my own, but it’s not happening. The pain isn’t horrendous, it’s more a half throbbing ache, half numb sensation that renders me unable to walk.

  Hugo comes to my other side and takes the full brunt of my weight. With my escort’s assistance, I try to hobble in the direction of Maddi in pursuit of two answers.

  Who is that man and how do I get rid of him?

  Unfortunately, we’re too late. Maddi climbs on the back of the black motorcycle and they speed off together. She has her arms wrapped around his waist and her body pressed tight against his. I want to reach out and pull her from his motorcycle, then take her to my bedroom and punish her for days for sullying herself with his filth. Maddi O’Brien just turned up the heat in this game, and I don’t think she’s going to be able to stand the temperature. By the time, I’m finished with her, she’ll be so dirty and used up that even her leather clad biker won’t want her.