Date Me Like You Mean It

Trouble in paradise?

“Did you and Brent have a fight or something?”

“Of course not. We don’t fight.”

“Not ever?”

“No. He’s nice.”

“What about in the bedroom?”

She chokes on her cereal and I have to reach over and pound her back, making sure she doesn’t die on me. She coughs a bit and regains her breath then glares at me once again.

“That’s none of your business.”

I laugh. “We used to discuss this stuff all the time. There was no subject off limits for us, or have you forgotten?”

“I’m more mature now,” she says haughtily.

“Little Maddie Lane, so mature she won’t even kiss and tell.”

My taunt rankles her. She drops her spoon back into her bowl with a clink and turns to face me.

“If you must know, Brent knows exactly what I like in bed.”

“Oh yeah?”

“He’s not shy. No fumbling and tiptoeing around what he wants.”

I smirk, and she narrows her eyes.

“You don’t believe me.”

I shrug. “I didn’t say that.”

“It’s written all over your smug face!”

I go right on eating my cereal.

“Good to see you haven’t changed one bit. You’re as arrogant as ever, maybe more so.”

I meet her gaze. “You used to like it.”

“Tastes change.”

I’m so tempted to push her on that lie.

I’ve had this one lingering thought in the back of my mind ever since I moved away. A regret, really. I can’t help but wonder if I didn’t push Maddie hard enough to reveal her true feelings about me. Instead, I took her words at face value. I soaked up what she told me on the surface and believed it to be true. She had plenty of opportunities to speak up and tell the truth about her real feelings for me…if she had them. So, I convinced myself she wasn’t interested, and that’s part of why I moved to New York. I had to put distance between us so I could attempt to move on.

But the thought remains, even still: was she just good at hiding the truth? Just like me?

After all, I never told her my feelings either.

Maybe we were both liars.

I could test my theory right now. She’s sitting here all alone with me in the near darkness. I could set our bowls on the coffee table and lean over her, push her back onto the couch, and see how she responds.

I could seduce her in the ways I’ve imagined a thousand times. My hand up the front of her tank top, my palm covering her skin…I could make her feel so good.

I want her now as much as ever.

The desire to have her pulses through me like wildfire.

It’s so hard to sit here, inches away from her, and keep my hands to myself.

“In fact, I should probably be getting back to him,” Maddie says, standing up to carry her bowl into the kitchen.

I stand up too, going after her. I let my gaze linger on her long legs until I reach the hem of her shorts. She drops her bowl into the sink, and I reach around her to do the same. When my arm brushes against her waist, she stills and sucks in a breath.

I don’t move away. Instead, I step forward.

I’m crowding her at the sink.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she asks breathily.

“Cleaning my cereal bowl,” I reply as my hand hits the counter beside her hip.

My body presses against hers, and she fits into every groove perfectly. Her tank top is silky smooth against my bare chest. Her hand lands beside mine so she can use it to help prop herself up. It looks fragile sitting there, her fingers so delicate. I can’t help but let my hand wander over to them, first covering the back of her hand and then looping around her wrist, tightening my grasp enough to feel her pulse.

Hummingbird fast.

She’s nervous right now, but not so nervous that she’s putting an end to my game.

I keep my hand on her wrist for a little while longer, and then after I’ve lost the battle to resist, I start to slide it up her forearm, higher over her elbow. I glide it up across her bicep, and then my fingers find the thin strap of her tank top. It’s nothing, a scrap. I could tug and break it without an ounce of effort. Instead, I touch it like it’s a delicate bird, gripping it between two fingers and pulling it up and off her skin as I start to move it down her shoulder.

I’m close enough to her that I can look down over her shoulder and see the fabric start to dip on her chest, revealing the top of her breast. With only the dull lights glowing behind us, we’re cast in shadow, but I can see more than enough. Smooth skin. Raised goose bumps. The rise and fall of her chest filling with air. It seems like she can’t quite get enough of it. Her breath picks up and she pinches her eyes closed as my mouth hits the shell of her ear.