by Sophia Henry
Maddie’s gaze moves from our armed friend to me. A different kind of smile creeps across her face. “Are you fan-boying right now?”
“No,” I scoff.
I’m not. But it’s pretty damn surreal that I’m about to go bowling with the singer of one of the most popular bands in the country. Everyone’s heard Drowned World songs on the radio. Hell, I recently heard one in a car commercial. I can’t remember what manufacturer, but stuff like that is big-time.
We grab our shoes from the attendant at the counter and pick out our balls before heading over to where Liz and Austin are already waiting for us.
“Hey!” Liz greets us with a huge smile. Maddie hugs both Liz and Austin before turning to me.
“Liz, you know Erik,” she says.
“Hey Liz.” I give her a quick hug. “Good to see you.”
“You too, Erik.” Liz smiles warmly. She’s always been a nice person. I don’t know why I was expecting her to look down on me or act surprised to see Maddie and I together. But her easy smile puts me at ease and I don’t feel uncomfortable at all.
“This is Austin,” Liz says.
“Hey, man! Good to meet you.” Austin holds out his hand and I shake it firmly.
“You too.”
“Y’all ready to get your butts kicked?” Maddie calls. She’s setting the hot-pink ball she chose on the rack next to the red-and-black ones that are already there.
“I guess the pleasantries are over,” I say, which makes Liz and Austin laugh. I walk over to put my ball down too. Maddie grabs my hand and kisses my cheek, then pulls a pair of socks out of her purse.
“Poor Erik. I don’t think you know what you got yourself into.” Liz shakes her head. “My sister is a force of nature.”
It’s interesting getting to know someone again. Though Maddie and I could be considered friends when we were teenagers, she’s very different than she was then. Or at least different than the person she showed me back then. She’s always been beautiful, confident, and energetic. But I’m seeing a competitive streak I never knew was there. It’s not a bad thing, just not something I expected.
“Teams, or every man for himself?” Liz asks.
“Teams. It’s more fun having a partner in life than being alone,” Maddie says.
“Cool. You’re up first, Mads.” Liz presses a button on the digital scoreboard that starts our first game. On the screen mounted above us, a cursor blinks in the box for the first frame, waiting for Maddie to go. Down the lane, gray bars pop out of the gutters.
“You use bumpers?” I ask in amused disbelief.
“Just for the first game,” she explains as if it’s completely normal for someone over ten years old to use the bars that prevent someone from getting a gutter ball. “Gotta get my bowling groove back.”
“To be fair,” Liz pipes up, “I use them for the first game, too.”
Austin shrugs. “At least the Commons sisters aren’t afraid of a little teasing.”
Maddie, who had started walking toward the alley, turns around. “Who’s gonna tease us?”
Austin puts his hands up and backs away, taking a seat on the bench next to Liz. They immediately clasp hands. Liz leans her shoulder into him and smiles. Austin kisses the top of her head before they both turn their gazes to Maddie.
Those are the little things I want to do with Maddie. It’s natural to want to touch the girl I’m dating. Not in a creepy way. When I like someone, I show it with physical connections. Holding hands, touching her arm, or leading her by placing my hand on the small of her back. Even though this is a fake relationship, I have the overwhelming urge to touch Maddie. We have a connection—a friendship, if nothing else—so it seems natural. But I’m playing it cool. I’ll let her take the lead on how touchy-feely she wants to get in front of people. I’ll take it as slow as she needs, especially after her experiences with Trent.
Even with bumpers, Maddie’s game starts out pretty rough—only getting four of the ten pins down in her first two tries. Don’t ask me how that’s even possible without the ability to get a gutter ball. Probably because her ball moves slower than molasses in January.
Then again, after the first three frames, none of us have shown any indication that representatives from the Pro Bowlers Tour will be knocking on our doors.
Maddie’s luck changes in the fourth frame. She walks up to the line with rigid determination, wheels her arm back, and flings the ball down the lane.
Her sweater rises up.
All ten pins go down.
“Yes!” She jumps into the air.
Excitement propels me forward. I gather her in my arms, lift her off the ground, and spin her around once before placing her back on her feet. My fingers slide down her smooth, warm skin. “Great throw!”
She has the biggest grin on her face and her cheeks are flushed when she looks up at me. “I knew I’d get my groove.”
“Nice job, Mads!” Liz slaps her hand in a high five as we walk back to our chairs.
“First strike of the night,” Austin says. “Come on, Liz! Get your ass up there and get us a big X on the board.”
“On it!” Liz jumps up, grabs her red ball, and launches it down the lane with gusto. It’s a great throw, but only the eight pins in the middle go down, leaving her with a killer split. On her second throw, the balls slides straight down the middle without hitting anything.
“Ouch. Sorry, babe.” Austin gives her a quick hug.
“No worries. We still have six frames left, right?”
“I like the positive attitude, Lizzie!” Maddie says. “Now, go get, ‘em, Erik!”
I’m not much of a bowler, but if my girl wants a strike, I’m gonna try to get her a strike. As I lift my ball, I take a deep breath, silently praying to the dating gods to give me this moment to impress Maddie. Then I swing it back and send it down.
BOOM! Strike!
“That’s how it’s done!” Maddie yells.
Liz goes to the counter behind us and fills four plastic cups from a pitcher of beer. “Drinks are back here. We got the first round.”
“You may be getting the second round too,” Maddie quips.
“Oh, it’s like that?” Austin asks with a smile before getting up for his turn. Evidently, the pressure brings out the best in all of us, because Austin bowls a strike, as well. He celebrates by crossing his arms in an X and bouncing it off of his crotch.
“Classy,” Maddie says as they pass in the aisle.
We all burst out laughing, except Maddie, whose eyebrows are knit in determination again as she grabs her ball.
To our surprise, she bowls another strike. After a sad start, she’s now got two strikes in a row, and though her ball still moves slow, they are not bad throws. Maybe she did need to get her groove.
The rest of us finish the frame—no one except Maddie getting a strike this time.
After throwing what looks to be another freaking perfect ball, she stands at the end of the lane, watching with her hands like a steeple against her lips. It looks like she’s praying to the bowling gods for one more strike. Like all her previous turns, the ball rolls as if in super slow motion. I think the rest of us are praying she puts a bit more power behind her swing so the ball gains more speed as the night goes on—but that’s just me being petty, because it obviously works for her.
And just like her last two turns, all ten pins go down.
She jumps up and claps her hands. “Gobble, gobble, bitches!” she says, a play on the “turkey” she just bowled, which is what three strikes in a row is called. She dances back toward us, then snaps her fingers and shakes her head in front of Liz and Austin.
“Are you allowed to brag when you’re using bumpers?” Austin asks. He and Liz share a smile.
“Liz is using bumpers too!” Maddie cries.
I hold up my hand for a high five. “Nice work, partner,” I say as she slaps it.
“I was in a league when I was a kid.”
“Oh my gosh! You were seven and
your season average was a twenty-five,” Liz says.
“Guess I still got it,” Maddie’s teases.
We enjoy four more pitchers over two more games and tons of fun and banter. Hanging out with Liz and Austin is a blast. Before we got here, I thought it might be awkward hanging around the Commons sisters. I’ve only ever known Liz as Harris’s oldest daughter—the one who’s going to be a doctor.
It didn’t help when I saw Austin Williams when we got here. I wasn’t intimidated, per se, but I expected him to be a douchey celebrity-type dude who was high on himself. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case at all. Austin and both of the girls are so down-to-earth. They have a different demeanor when they aren’t around their parents.
“That was a blast,” I tell Maddie, grabbing her hand for the walk back to her condo. She squeezes it.
“It was! Gosh, I haven’t had that much fun in forever. Can’t even remember the last time I went bowling.”
“You were really good.”
We chat about the evening as we walk. Once we reach her building, I hold the door open. Her ass brushes my hand as she scoots past me, which sends a rush of blood straight to my dick. I start counting slowly, hoping the erection straining against my zipper simmers down by the time I get to ten.
Maddie catches me completely off guard when she reaches out and grabs my hand, yanking my body to hers. Our faces are inches apart, the tips of our noses almost touching. Her eyes are open, but her lids drop lower and lower with each erratic breath. I lean closer and slide my lips over hers so softly, they barely touch. She makes the move, leaning in ever so slightly and pressing her lips on mine. When she opens her mouth, I slide my tongue in, then tilt my head to delve deeper into her mouth. She tastes like bubble gum and smells like sunshine.
She pulls back and whispers, “Come upstairs with me.”
“We’re playing with fire, Madeline.”
“I like the heat,” she says, clasping her hands behind my neck, holding me close.
“Most people say that until they get burned. Besides, there’s no one to impress up there,” I say.
It’s a shitty thing to say, because she’s doing this as a huge, disastrous favor to me. But none of this is real, no matter how much I want it to be, and I have to be the one with a clear head. Not trying to be a stereotypical ass, but it’s a fact that women get more emotionally involved when things get intimate.
“You’re right.” She releases me immediately and yanks the hem of her sweater down, as if trying to cover herself. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Wrapped up in the moment.”
The fabric pops back up, a reminder to both of us of how exposed she is. I don’t want her to think I’m rejecting her, so I brush my palm over her face. “I was right there with you, Madeline. An intimate situation is bound to get us riled up, whether it’s real or not.”
Maddie swallows hard. Her voice shakes slightly when she speaks. “Yeah. I’m riled up, all right.”
It’s not a secret, but hearing her say she’s excited floods more blood to my cock, and I may have to wait a few minutes before I try to walk back to my truck. I jacked off before our date, but old boy is ready to go again.
“Madeline Commons! I am not letting you get in my pants on our second date, no matter how long we’ve known each other,” I say in an exaggerated Southern accent. It’s a variation of what she’d said to me at Home on the Range Brewing. “You can march your sweet ass upstairs and take a cold shower.”
Maddie bursts out laughing, which brings happiness to my heart. She’s been dealing with a lot of dark issues with Trent. “Is that how I sound?” she asks.
“I’m teasing you.”
Maddie’s fingers dance down my chest until they reach my waistband. She looks up at me with a sensuous, mischievous gaze and hooks them into my jeans. “Maybe I’m the one teasing you.”
“We can’t start this.” My head falls back and I roll my eyes to the ceiling. My dick strains to make contact. Despite every single protesting voice in my head, I pull her hand out from inside my pants. “Get upstairs!” I command.
“Methinks thou dost protest too much, good sir.” Maddie winks. But she spins around and starts toward the glass door leading to the elevator.
“I’ll call you later,” I call out.
“Promise?” She turns around, walking backward as she waits for my answer.
“Promise.”
I wait, watching as she enters her code on the keypad that unlocks the doors to the elevator. Once she’s out of sight, I slam my palms against the door to exit the building, gulping at the chilly evening air.
Out of all the people who could have offered me a fake relationship, this one will be the hardest of my life.
It’s one thing to have a fake relationship with someone you have no connection with. It’s a completely different situation when you try to have a fake relationship with someone you’ve dreamed of being with for years. It’s not like I locked myself in my room, committed to a life of celibacy, pining for her. But now that we have this arrangement, it’s a challenge I wasn’t expecting. Having what I’ve always wanted right in front of me. Knowing that at any moment, I could take it to the next level—and she’d be a willing participant.
In less than six months, I’m leaving this country—whether the U.S. government asks me to or not. Even if we fell in love, there’s nothing Maddie can do to change that. I’m leaving by choice because that’s what I have to do to become a U.S. citizen.
If I lead her on, or let her believe this arrangement is more than it is, it will devastate her. This relationship will be like balancing on a tightrope. Leaning too far one way and it’s not believable, leaning too far the other way and there are too many feelings at stake. I’m supposed to be helping her recover from a man who crushed her heart, not be the next one to do it.
Chapter Nine
Maddie
“Her pants were so tight, I could see her religion,” Mary Hill Mitchell finishes a story about the fashion faux pas of an acquaintance we know at a recent party.
“Good lord!” Lucy Nelson shakes her head.
“Well, that’s just trash,” I say, to keep up the conversation.
Anxious butterflies attacked my stomach the entire way to the restaurant, but being here with my friends is much more relaxing than I anticipated. Normally, I’m all in for the recent gossip. I usually have a few stories to add myself, but with everything going on with work and Erik and Trent, I’m a mess of nerves. The last thing on my mind is how tight someone’s pants were. But I haven’t seen my friends since Trent and I broke up, so I’m just grateful to be around them again.
Mary Hill, Lucy, and I met in our debutante class. There were fifteen girls total, but four of us became very close and stayed friends ever since. Every month for the past year or so, we’ve made it a point to have lunch together. We see each other outside of this, but monthly lunch is a tradition we wanted to keep alive for when our lives got busy and pulled us in various directions.
I thought I’d have to fend off questions about the breakup, but so far so good. Neither woman has brought it up. Then again, the fourth member of our group, the one person I expected to see, isn’t here—yet.
My water glass is empty, so I look up to grab the attention of our waiter. That’s when I notice Suzanne Anderson barreling through the restaurant like a wrecking ball, in a baby blue, paisley, A-line dress. I take a deep breath and brace myself for the backlash Erik talked about.
Though we were in the same debutante class, Suzanne and I have been friends even longer. We’ve been joined at the hip since we met in high school. We chose all the same activities and sports, even went on multiple Spring Break trips together.
At one time, I called her my best friend, but she hasn’t spoken to me since Trent and I broke up. So, I reckon the correct description now is: Trent’s sister.
“Hey y’all! Sorry I’m late,” Suzanne says, placing her pocketbook on the back of her chair before sitting down. “I wa
s helping at Junior League today and lost track of time.”
“No problem, sugar.” Mary Hill waves her hand. “I was just telling the girls about the Brooks’ party last Friday night.”
“Did you tell them about Tricia’s pants?” Suzanne asks immediately. The waiter stops to pour her a glass of water and refill mine from a silver pitcher. “Madeline.” She nods at me curtly.
“Hey, Suzanne.” I hoped she wouldn’t show. I almost cancelled coming because I knew she’d be here, but I didn’t want anyone to think I was a coward. I made my decision and I stand by it, even if I can’t be entirely truthful about the reasons for it.
Thankfully, the conversation steers back to the party the Brooks had last Friday, which was obviously the place to be. I didn’t even know about it. Which seems odd, but maybe I missed the invitation. I’ve been swamped at work, and haven’t been keeping up with personal email as often as I should recently.
Our meals arrive fairly quickly since we all ordered some form of a salad. I’ve just taken a bite of the delicious Spinach Cranberry Pecan salad I ordered when Suzanne turns to me.
“You must be doing well, hey, Madeline? Heard you’re already seeing someone else. Guess my brother was right about you.”
It’s imperative I finish chewing before answering, but the thick silence makes me uncomfortable. “And just what does that mean?” I finally squeak out.
“Well, it’s no secret, is it? You’ve been out and about with him.” Her beady, brown eyes pierce mine. They’re an exact reflection of Trent’s, which makes my stomach turn. “I never believed my brother when he said you were cheating on him. I thought I knew you better than that. But then he told me that you were already seeing someone.”
“Madeline! Are you holding out on us?” Mary Hill asks. By the jovial tone of her voice, I’m sure she’s trying to break the tension, but it’s not helping. Not me, at least.
“For the record, I never cheated on Trent.” I set my fork down and wipe my hands on the napkin in my lap. “But yes, I am seeing someone. It just sort of happened.”