by McLean, Jay
I spent the rest of the night deep in my own thoughts. Thoughts of Madison, of me, of us together. And then I did something I never let myself do—I thought about Christine and how much I miss her. How it’d be so easy to pick up the phone and call her. How it would feel to hear her voice. And then I thought about the guilt and the shame that came with all of it, and I just couldn’t.
I couldn’t take it back.
I couldn’t make it right.
And I sure as hell couldn’t face her.
No matter how much I want to.
“So where are we going?” Madison asks, her eyes scanning the numerous dresses she has laid out on my bed.
“Just a club a few blocks from here. We’ll catch a cab. It’s cold out.”
Her gaze moves to mine. “I’ve never been to a club before.”
“Never?”
She shrugs, looking back down at her clothes. “Who are we meeting?”
“Just a friend.” I finish slipping on my shoes and kiss her temple. “Just pick one, babe, you look hot in anything.”
She smiles. “You choose.”
I pick the closest one and hand it to her. “Don’t take too long or we’re going to be late.”
* * *
She comes out of the bedroom an hour later, and I almost kick myself for not checking her clothes properly. Bright red. Strapless. Hugs every single curve. Barely covers her ass. “Maybe you should change.”
“Ky!” she almost yells. “It took me forever to get ready and you chose this—”
“I’m kidding!” I’m not. “Let’s go before I strip that dress off of you with my teeth.”
She raises an eyebrow in challenge.
“Don’t tempt me, Maddy.”
* * *
madison giggles the entire cab ride to the club while watching me squirm in my seat. The way she’s dressed and the way she looks at me, added to the way her fucking hand slowly creeps up my thigh… she loves the power. Thrives on it.
Me? I’m just doing everything I can to not take her right here and now. “If I get into a fight with an asshole that looks at you the wrong way or looks at you period… call Jackson. He’ll bail me out.”
She laughs, but I’m dead serious. I even make her save Jackson’s number in her phone.
Ky: I’m at Zero.
DeLuca: Got caught up, I’ll be there in ten.
I get carded at the door, and the bouncer takes one look at Madison and lets her through.
We walk through a narrow hallway to get to the club doors. “The walls are vibrating,” she says, her hand pressed against the wall. The music intensifies tenfold when we step into the club. She stops in her tracks and winces, covering her ears and plastering her face to my chest.
I hold her head in my hands and tilt it back, my eyes scanning her face. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s too loud!” Her hands press firmer against her ears. “It hurts!”
My eyes narrow in confusion as I take in her state. She looks like she’s in genuine pain. I want to leave, but I already told DeLuca I was here. “Do you think you can handle it for fifteen minutes?”
“I think so,” she shouts.
“Let’s get a drink, okay? It might help.” I use my chest to block one of her ears and my hand to cover her other one. At the bar, I order two shots of whiskey and hand one to her. We stay in the same position while we down them. “You okay, babe?”
Her face scrunches in discomfort. I press both my hands to her ears, and she covers them with hers before nodding.
“You’re so damn cute,” I tell her. She responds by getting on her toes and kissing me quickly. After a moment, her hands loosen and she pulls away. “Another one,” I mouth. She smiles, knowing exactly what I want. She kisses me again, her hands now on my chest. Mine remain on her ears, hopefully blocking out enough of the music. She slowly relaxes into me, letting me drown in the taste of her. There’s a moment of silence while the song changes, but she doesn’t notice because her lips stay on mine, curling into a smile as we try to maintain the flow of our kiss—the same flow we’re now so accustomed to. Her arms wrap around my waist, bringing me closer to her until a thump on my back has me stumbling forward. We pull apart, just as I shove at the body standing beside me. Madison squeals, her hands covering her ears again. “What the hell’s your problem?” I shout at the person next to me, but my attention’s on Madison. I pull her into my chest again, covering her ears with a second barrier.
“I was trying to get your attention,” a deep male voice shouts back. I look up to see DeLuca, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed. “Looks like you were both too preoccupied,” he says, jerking his head toward her. “What’s her problem?”
My shirt hides most of Madison’s face, but I can see her eyes squeezed shut. “Can we make this quick?” I ask DeLuca. “It’s too loud in here for her. It’s hurting her ears.”
“Huh,” he says, still fixated on her.
“Anytime you want to quit staring at my girlfriend would be perfect.”
“Sure.” He moves his attention to the phone in his hand as he taps away, while I wait impatiently. A few seconds pass before he motions for us to follow him. Madison stays plastered to my side as he leads us to the back of the club and into a soundproof office. I release Madison, and she slowly removes her hands from her ears. We sit down on the couch in the corner of the office while DeLuca watches her intently. “Better?” he asks her.
She nods.
“Do you need a drink or anything?”
She smiles awkwardly. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
“You sure?”
I interrupt their little back and forth. “Why did you want to meet?”
He rubs the back of his head and looks at Madison again with an intensity I can’t seem to decipher. When his gaze flicks back to me, he blows out a heavy breath and shakes his head. “It’s not important, man. I’ll text you. Just get her out of here.” He taps his phone a few times. “A cab’s waiting out back. It saves you from going through the club again.”
“Thanks,” I say, but all I can think about is the attention he’s paying to Madison. A tiny part of me is grateful—the rest of me is pissed.
* * *
She mentions her ears are still ringing while we’re in a cab heading home. As soon as we get into my apartment, she goes straight to the bedroom. She strips out of her clothes, leaving her in nothing but her bra and panties and climbs into bed, throwing the covers over her head. I pull out my phone and start looking up how to treat ringing ears when a text comes through from DeLuca.
DeLuca: Call me when you can.
“Babe, I’ve got to make a call. Will you be okay?”
Her hand pokes out from under the sheets, and she waves me off.
* * *
DeLuca answers on the first ring. “Hey.”
“What’s up?”
“So, I wanted to talk to you about who you’ll be fighting.”
“Okay?”
“His name’s James Hayden. You should be able to find some info on him online. He used to train over at JL Ju-Jitsu.”
“Okay, thanks.” I’m about to hang up, but then I think fuck it. I’d rather deal with this shit now than let it eat away at me. “I wanted to talk to you about something else.”
“Yeah?” he asks.
I give it to him straight. “I’m not happy with the way you are around Maddy.”
“Maddy?”
“Yeah. Madison. My girlfriend. You can’t seem to take your eyes off her, and to be honest, it pisses me off and makes her uncomfortable.”
Dead silence greets me on the other end.
I fear I may have fucked up, gotten too personal, but after a long-ass moment, I hear him sigh. “You’re right,” he says. And I find myself both relieved and surprised. He adds, “I apologize.”
“Okay, good talk,” I mumble.
“It’s just that she reminds me of someone I used to know. The resemblance is fucking uncanny.”
“You think you used to
know her?”
“No. Not Madison. I don’t know her at all.”
His words confuse me, but before I can say anything, he says, “I’ll be out of town until your fight, got business to take care of, so you probably won’t hear from me until then.”
“Okay.”
“All right, Parker. I’ll see ya.”
I hang up and stare down at my phone. Even though something feels off about the way he’d spoken to me, there’s absolutely no trace of threats in his words, no form of authority.
* * *
I call Jackson, who’s already expecting my call, and I give him the details of the meetup. I leave out the parts about Maddy, just like I leave out the parts of me that are really starting to wonder about DeLuca, about the case, and whether it’s worth it.
But then Jackson thanks me, tells me how much he appreciates everything I’m doing. And just like that, I decide that Jackson and what he wants—what we want—is more important than what I’m feeling.
So I decide to put him first.
Because he earned it.
And after everything he and his family have done for me, he sure as shit deserves it.
Chapter 22
For the last four days, I’ve woken up with Madison sleeping peacefully next to me, and every morning I question the exact same thing: what the hell could be better than this? And the answer is and probably always will be: nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
* * *
Her eyes are closed, but the corners of her lips curl. “Are you watching me again?”
“No. How creepy would that be?”
Her eyes snap open and she rolls on her back, eying me sideways. “Liar.”
I shrug in response, then lean up on my elbow so I can look her in the eyes when she reaches up, her fingers finding my dog tags hanging just above her breasts. I do my best to glance at them inconspicuously, but my hand has a mind of its own. I trace a slow line from her chin, down her neck to her chest, rising and falling, matching her heavy breaths. I move my finger lower and lower, waiting for her to tell me to stop, but she doesn’t have to, because her phone sounds, causing us to pull apart.
I leave her to read her text while I shower, and when I return, she’s still looking down at her phone, her mind distant. “Everything okay?” I ask.
She sits up and drops the phone to the side. “Yup,” she says, nodding. And even though I suspect she’s lying, I don’t push her. I don’t feel the need to.
Her phone sounds again but she ignores it, opting instead to kiss me goodbye. “You want to pick me up from Debbie’s shop when you’re done?” she asks.
“Sure. But hold out on getting your frames today, okay? I want to pick some with you.”
Her smile’s huge. “Okay!”
I stare at her a moment longer before I force myself to look away and then walk away, because each day spent together just makes it harder to be without her.
Sara: I miss you.
Sara: Message me when you get this. I’m worried.
I try to be quiet as I walk into Debbie’s Flowers, but Madison hears me anyway. She smiles and continues to water some flowers on the back wall.
Picking up a single orange rose on the way over to her, I press my chest against her back and set my hand on her stomach, then lift the rose to her nose. “Orange?” She laughs. “You know that means lust and desire?”
“Good. That’s what I was going for.”
I kiss her neck, smiling against it when she tilts her head to give me better access.
Debbie clears her throat from behind us.
“Sorry,” I say, turning to her. “She’s kind of irresistible.”
There’s amusement in Debbie’s eyes when she asks, “What are your plans for the rest of the day, Kyler?”
I fake a sigh. “Not a lot, Debbie. Just hanging out with a girl I’m in lust with.”
Madison scoffs.
I continue, “Actually, I do have plans. But it’s a surprise.”
Madison smiles up at me. “Surprise? I like surprises.”
“Yeah? I’m hoping you like what I have to offer a lot more than your stupid mailbox.”
We walk back to our building and check my mail. I pray Jackson’s made good on his word and smile when my fingers skim the metal of a key. “What’s that?” Madison asks.
“Jax being fucking awesome is what it is,” I answer, taking her hand. I lead her down the stairs to the basement parking garage and look at the car logo on the key—Ford—and I start to press the keyless entry remote, listening for the sound.
“Oh my God,” she yelps, running toward the car. Only it’s not just any car; it’s a blue Mustang GT convertible—and the roof’s already down.
“Get in!” I shout.
She doesn’t hesitate.
I take my time and pull out my phone to send Jackson a text.
Ky: Holy shit! This is your car?
Jackson: I wish. It came from the impound lot at the station so be careful!
Ky: How the fuck did you manage that?
Jackson: I’m screwing the girl in charge.
Ky: Shut up! You didn’t tell me you were dating.
Jackson: I didn’t say we were dating. I said I was screwing her. There’s a difference, big brother.
Ky: That’s BADASS, Jax.
Jackson: I’m serious about not messing it up.
Ky: You got it. You sly motherfucker you.
Jackson: Enjoy, asshole.
“Where are we going?” she asks, bouncing in her seat as I get in the car.
“Quiet, you!”
She glares at me.
I turn the key in the ignition, then lean back against the headrest, relishing in the purr of the engine. “That’s the sound of over six hundred fifty horsepower, babe.”
Her face forms to a look of disgust. “Are you…” She reaches over to cover my crotch.
Laughing, I smack her hand away.
“You’re hard, aren’t you?” she jokes. “You should have sex with it.”
“I may as well have sex with something,” I retort.
Her jaw drops, her eyes huge. “You—I-I can’t believe you just said that!”
I laugh harder and kiss her quickly. She pulls away, feigning anger. “Another one,” I say.
She rolls her eyes but caves and kisses me again. Then she covers my face with her hand and pushes me away. “It’s not like you’ve ever made a move,” she mumbles.
I don’t respond, because she’s right, and I won’t push her to do anything until she’s ready to give me all of her. Anything less and it won’t do us justice.
“Okay, so please don’t get too excited,” I warn. “It’s really not that great. In fact, you’ll probably think it’s dumb. But just pretend that you like it. For me, okay?”
“I’m with you, right? That’s enough.” She places her hand on my leg and squeezes once. “That will always be enough, Ky.”
There are no signs on the warehouse, which makes the surprise even better. We wait for a few people to exit the building before stepping inside.
She gasps, then grips my arm tight, before releasing an all-consuming laugh. “This is amazing!” She practically runs past the registers and down the first aisle. “How did you find this place?” she asks, picking up a frame.
All I see when I look around are aisles upon aisles of nothing but picture frames. “It’s like an overstock warehouse,” I tell her. “So this will be here for a few weeks. I know right before Christmas they fill it with decorations.”
“This place should exist for eternity!” she squeals.
She picks up a few frames and inspects the pictures inside, before setting them back on the shelf.
“You better make quick choices, Maddy. We don’t have all day.”
Her eyes widen as if new life’s just been pumped into her.
I laugh. “I’ll get a basket.”
“You better get a cart!”
* * *
Three godda
mn hours.
That’s how long we spent looking at nothing but frames. Most dudes would’ve walked out after a half hour and her constant indecisiveness. Call me a chump, but I was just as into it as she was.
Now came the best part.
The real surprise.
We drive a few miles east, and as soon as she realizes where we are, she starts to fidget in her seat. We park the car and start walking toward the center of Logan Circle, a park in Center City. She keeps her head down and stays quiet, right up until we’re a few yards away from the fountain in the middle of the park. Then she stops in her tracks and turns to me. “Okay,” she breathes, pushing back her shoulders and shaking out her hands. “I have to tell you something.”
I wait.
And wait. And then finally break the silence. “What’s going on?”
“This place—I’m just a little unsure of what I’m feeling right now.”
I take her hands and hold them. “Why?”
“It’s just that—you know how I told you about that stuff?”
I watch a million different emotions flash in her eyes. “Yeah…”
“I’ve spent a lot of nights here… sleeping in this park.”
Shit. “I’m sorry. We can go. I just thought—”
“No.” She tries to laugh, but her need to cry is greater. “I’m not telling you because I want your pity or because I want to leave. I’m telling you because until right now—this place—it held a completely different meaning for me. And until you came along, Ky, so did everything else.”
She places her hand on the back of my neck, bringing me down to her waiting lips. The warmth of her tears spreads on my cheek as I eagerly return her kiss. The want to say what we can’t voice is beyond need, beyond desperation. She pulls back, her eyes glazed but her smile in place as her arm settles around my waist, and she leads us to the fountain.