AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Twenty minutes later, I’m standing beneath a steamy showerhead in an empty locker room, berating myself for focusing on this bullshit rather than the training I’m supposed to be doing. And I resolve all over again to stop thinking about my little sister’s best friend.
She’s not for you.
I feel strangely resolute when I leave the arena, stop by for some food, and pull into the parking lot of my apartment that evening. Madison was still sleeping when I left this morning, so I haven’t seen or spoken to her since last night’s debacle. And I was pissed, so I didn’t leave her a coffee. It was my silent, stubborn way of punishing her.
As I make my way across the lot, I’ve decided to go back to the way things were before I mistakenly kissed her. I’ll be friendly, but with boundaries. I’ll let her know by my actions that we aren’t meant to be anything other than buddies. We can’t be anything more. I’m leaving in a couple of months. Who she is and who I am hasn’t changed. And we can go back to the easy, uncomplicated relationship we had before.
I feel lighter with every step closer to my front door. I’m in control. Things make sense again.
And all of that unravels as soon as I step inside my apartment.
I pause on the threshold when I see Madison looking like a wet dream in her short pink dress. It’s sleeveless, showcasing her round tan shoulders as she walks. Her neckline is conservative, completely covering her chest, but still failing to hide those luscious curves underneath. She stops to slip into a pair of nude-colored heels that are waiting next to the couch. Her calves flex with the motion. The material of her skirt is loose and ends a few inches below her hips, flowing with every move she makes as she glides around the room. My eyes get stuck on her exposed thighs. Those toned golden stems that dreams are made of. I’ve pictured them wrapped around my hips … peeking out from beneath my T-shirt. She bends down to retrieve a small bag lying on the coffee table, and I wonder if I could glimpse more of her forbidden skin if I were standing behind her rather than in front.
“Are you coming in, or are you just going to stand there all night?” she asks, barely glancing in my direction.
I close my mouth and take another step inside, shutting the door behind me. “Where are you going?”
“I have a date.”
My eyes narrow with those four words. “With who?”
“Johnny.”
She stops in front of a mirror Oakley hung on my wall when I moved in and threads a hoop through each earlobe nonchalantly, like she just casually announced she was running to the store rather than going out with some guy I’ve never heard of.
“Who the fuck is Johnny?” So much for sounding friendly.
She scoldingly narrows her eyes over at me. “He sings in that band Talking Fists.”
“Talking what?” I spit. “What the hell kind of name is that for a band?”
And then it dawns on me … she’s going out with the Kurt Cobain wannabe from the other night. The one I saw getting her number.
I throw my keys on the countertop with more force than necessary and face her. “Is this a joke?”
She meets me head-on, crossing her arms over her supple chest. “The only joke is your reaction.”
“When you’re staying with me, you’re my responsibility,” I counter. I sound ridiculous, even to my ears. We both know this has nothing to do with a sense of duty.
She narrows her cerulean eyes. “I’m a grown woman, Ollie. You can’t tell me what to do or who to see. I appreciate you giving me a place to stay, but you aren’t my keeper. You aren’t even my brother.”
“No, I’m certainly not,” I scoff beneath my breath.
There’s a knock at the door. I don’t move, and we don’t drop our contentious connection for another beat. Slowly, Madison uncrosses her arms. She reaches for her purse. She glances in the mirror again, fluffing her hair that’s curled specially for her date and flowing down her back in golden strands. I want to wrap it around my fist and pull her to me. I want to force her to stay in place. She purses her lips and rubs them together to smear the gloss she must’ve applied earlier. I swallow hard as I taste the strawberry flavor all over again.
“Madison …” I say when she starts walking toward the front door.
She hesitates.
I can’t want you.
I can’t have you.
I can’t look away.
A million thoughts flood my head all at once, but none of them make it out of my mouth. I don’t want her to go, but I don’t know how to ask her to stay.
Another knock on the door.
