“Mm… same,” Reed says, closing his styrofoam box. He nudges Maddox with his knee. “Want to go with?”
Maddox’s eyes flicker to me, but it’s so brief that when I blink, he’s looking the other way. “Honestly, I need a fucking nap,” he says as he rubs his face. “I might have to raincheck you guys.”
“Yeah, same,” Bonnie says.
“Why? You have a date with that journalist?” Reed asks.
A sly smile slips onto Bonnie’s lips. “Maybe.”
The rest of the band throws fries at her when she rises, and Bonnie sticks out her tongue. Laughter sounds from each of them, but with the scrape of their chairs against the floor, they all stand to pick up their trash and go their separate ways.
“What about you, Andi?” Reed asks me. “Want to go shopping?”
“I have to get these into the computer,” I tell him, holding up my camera. “It would be my luck that something would happen to the card, and I’d be fucked.”
“Okay.” He takes out his phone and starts texting someone. “Mads, you want James to drop you and Andi off at home before he takes us to the shops? Or call my mom?”
“Ah…” Maddox hesitates slightly. “No. We can get a car,” he says as he looks at me.
“Oh. Oh, yeah, I’ll get us one,” I say as I collect more trash around the room.
The butterflies are flapping so vigorously that I don’t know what my body is doing when I look his way.
I can’t feel my face as they all chat a few more minutes while waiting on their respective rides, coming up with a plan for the next day and talking about what they should get to wear for the gigs.
And by the time everyone has left the room except for Maddox and me, my entire body is on alert.
“Did you call a car for us?” Maddox asks.
Mother fucker.
“Shit,” I say as I pull my phone out. “Sorry. In my head today.”
Yet Maddox is smiling at me.
I tap a few times on the screen, fucking thankful that he still has his music playing in the background because if it was silent in here, I might have short-circuited already.
“Three minutes,” I announce once it’s on its way. “Driver is Corey.”
Three minutes is just enough time for me to say something ridiculous and scare him off.
I hurriedly grab the rest of the takeout and shove it in the trash by the wall as Maddox closes his instrument case and grabs his backpack.
Or at least, that’s what I thought he was doing.
The trash has barely left my hand when his fingers wrap around my wrist. He pushes me back, my shoulders and ass hit the wall, and it’s all I can do to keep my composure as he suspends over me.
He’s as close as he was last night. So close that the fantasy I’d filled myself with after I left him flashes behind my eyes. He pins my wrist into the wall, and I have to coerce myself into speaking.
“What… what are you doing?” I ask.
It’s a stupid question. Even so, it’s all I can think of.
“Every time you watch me like you do, I can’t feel my ears,” he says.
I blink.
Can’t feel his…
