“You’re a touchy-feely person, aren’t you? I never realized it until recently. But . . . you’re affectionate.”
“Noah hates it,” I say, drawing a laugh from her. “I do like affection, though.”
“Me too.”
“I know.”
I’ve seen it with her and her siblings. Her and her dates. Madison would sit right in anyone’s lap if they let her. She’s always the last one to let go of a hug. And when she hugs, she squeezes, rubbing her hand against your back. I’ve watched her mindlessly braid her sisters’ hair if they’re sitting on the couch, and I’ve seen her make out with more guys in public than I like to dwell on. She’s just . . . physical, and I’ve always been enamored by it.By her.
And deeply jealous of everyone who gets to experience it.
I doubt she remembers, but once shortly after she’d turned twenty-one, we were all at Hank’s and one of the siblings had dragged me out to line dance. When the song ended, a slow song came on and everyone paired up. Madison looked at me andextended her arms, saying,Grin and bear it for one dance, will ya? I love this song.
I wonder what she’d think if she knew I would have danced with her to that song all night if she’d asked. That getting to look in her eyes while standing that close felt like a damn gift from some benevolent god.
And now we’re here, standing closer than friends really have any right to stand, and I wonder if her heart is racing as fast as mine is.
But then she pulls away and takes a few steps to the stove. “Fine, you can stay, but I’m going to make you some chamomile tea, so you’ll sleep well when you get home.”
“Tea is disgusting.” I turn toward her “bedroom” again.
“You’re going to drink it, and then as soon as you’ve finished it, you’re going home and going to bed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I sit on the edge of her bed, resting back onto my elbows. But it’s a bad idea, because the second I rest on the cushy mattress, my eyes drift shut. Between the smell of brownies and the sound of the kettle’s rolling boil, I swear that if I were to lie back right now, I’d pass out in ten seconds.
It’s peaceful in here.
I force my eyes to open, and when I do, I find Madison staring at me.
“You’re going to fall asleep.”
“Nah,” I say with drowsy eyes. “Not me.”
The thing I don’t tell her is that, despite how tired I’ve been, I’ve been struggling to sleep at home. There’s something about it. The second my head hits the pillow, my brain is wide-awake. But in here, I could sleep for ten days straight.
I think it’s her.
My body feels right when she’s around.
After pouring some honey into the steaming cup of tea, Madison carries it over to me. I push back up into a seated position. She stops in front of me, standing almost between my legs, and hands me the cup.
I take it, even though all I really want to do is wrap my hand around the back of her thighs and pull her even closer to me. All the way until we’re flush.
Instead, I look into her eyes.
“Tell me about your day.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Madison
“My day?” I ask, genuinely surprised by this question because usually when I’m alone with men the last thing they want to do is hear about my day. Which I’m realizing is so sad.
“Mm-hmm.” He sips the warm tea and his face says it all:disgusting herb water.“Tell me about it.”
“Umm. It was pretty boring. I just went and picked up the dishes from the pottery place.”
