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But I’m done avoiding my place and her. It’s time I start making things better, not worse. I begin to make plans before I can talk myself out of it. And I decide to do what I do best and ignore her last comment. Madison has no problem putting me on blast. I love it as much as I hate it.
Me: Poker with the guys at the apartment tonight. You in?
Mads: I’ll think about it.
Well, that’s something. And that’s probably all I’m going to get for now.
I pull up my other contacts and invite Sims and McMann over tonight. They answer a minute later and say they’ll come if I throw pizza and beer into the deal. I agree even though more alcohol sounds like a very bad idea at the moment.
I pull my tired-ass body up the stairs and into the space that I’ve avoided all week. I kick my shoes off and toss my wallet and keys on the counter. Most of Madison’s things are stacked in the corner, but some of them have found their way across my apartment. The mess should bother me, but it doesn’t. I don’t want to think too hard about why having her stuff in my space is just fine with me. Better than fine.
I take some painkillers and head straight to the shower, then fall into my bed with my hair still wet. It’s been days since I’ve slept on my own mattress. I try to ignore the way it smells like Madison’s vanilla shampoo. Her scent is all over the sheets and pillows, intermingling with mine. My body starts to awaken from the smell, combined with the image of her in the alleyway, in a way it didn’t when I saw the bunny practically naked in the kitchen this morning, but I’m too tired to do anything about it.
My last thoughts before I drift off to sleep are …
I can’t want her.
I can’t have her.
But at the same time … I can’t seem to look away.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MADISON
“Thanks for covering, Madison,” Nick calls out as I push through the front door.
I wave over my shoulder and keep moving.
One of my coworkers called in earlier today, and I bailed Nick out by working the lunch rush in her place. I ended up staying into the early evening because people kept trickling in for food and a large happy-hour crowd showed up for cocktails.
I couldn’t sleep anyway overnight. I’d tossed and turned while images of Ollie and some nameless, faceless, random puck bunny swam through my head. The nightmare robbed me of sleep. So, when Nick called this morning, I jumped at the chance to make some extra money.
I’m finding that work is one of the best distractions, saving me from myself and feelings that I don’t entirely understand. And my pocketbook is thriving because of it. Well, my cash flow is good mostly because Ollie doesn’t let me pay for my half of the rent or bills. I even tried leaving some cash on the countertop in the kitchen recently, but the money landed back in my purse when I wasn’t looking.
I balance two Styrofoam containers of takeout that I’m bringing back to our place against the car and my hip while unlocking the door. I’m going to feed the guys even though Ollie doesn’t deserve my food or my kindness right now. Not after confusing me even more before bailing last night. I secure them in the passenger seat after sliding behind the wheel, then collapse against the headrest. I didn’t realize how tired I was until this exact moment. But it isn’t just physical exhaustion; it’s mental too. My mind has refused to let go of image after image of Ollie kissing me in the alleyway. The way he manhandled me still has shivers running down my spine. Work wasn’t enough of a distraction. A text from Johnny didn’t dim my memory. Neither did the group of cute executives who flirted with me and left a fat tip at lunch.
But I don’t think I can describe what happened between Ollie and me as a simple kiss. It was an explosion. An experience. An out-of-body collision. And it still has me reeling.
My heart is racing from the memory as I shift the car into reverse and back out of the parking space, knowing I’m going to see him in a few minutes. I’m not entirely sure if it’s from excitement or anxiety, but either way, it’s annoying. And my pulse only accelerates when I pull into the apartment complex a few minutes later and spot Ollie’s Bronco gleaming in the late evening sun.
It all started with a wet tank top and a hard set of nipples. A laugh escapes my lips. And it culminated in a make-out session in the alleyway during my break at work. Classy. I shake my head. It wasn’t how I’d pictured it happening, but if I had known that was all it would take to persuade Ollie to kiss me, I would’ve washed his Bronco years ago.
I’m still chuckling at my thoughts as I exit the car while scolding myself at the same time for the butterflies swirling in my stomach. They get worse, the closer I get to the apartment. I don’t get nervous over the opposite sex, so I don’t know why I’m feeling anxious now.
Pull it together, Madison. Ollie’s just another guy.
But even I know I can only lie to myself for so long. Ollie isn’t just another guy. He’s the guy.
The door is unlocked when I twist the handle. Three sets of eyes find me as I walk across the threshold. Ollie, Charlie, and Ben are sitting around the living room, watching a hockey game on television. It’s postseason play, so when the guys are around, the games are the only thing on the screen.
“Honey, I’m home,” I announce.
My skin tingles as Ollie’s eyes travel down my form and back up again. I feel far from sexy right now, wearing my mundane uniform. I smell like fried food and desperately need a shower. But that doesn’t seem to matter when those familiar sapphire jewels capture me in a stare. Charlie centers in on the food rather than me and rises to take the containers from my hands.
“What do we have here?” he asks.
“Loaded nachos and cheese fries,” I answer as he sets them down on the coffee table and flips open the lids.
