“Expecting someone?” He slides the glass across the bar, and I take it with a stilted smile.
“Something of the sort.”
I don’t tell him Madison is supposed to meet me here in approximately thirty minutes, and I’m actually nervous to the point I feel vomit sitting at the base of my throat.
I honestly don’t know how we got here, but apparently, my little mouse wanted to meet—his idea—in a public place, and this is the only place my dumbass could think of.
My old fuck spot was probably not the best idea, but I know this place intimately, and it’s not too far from where either of us live, so it’s doable.
But now that I’m here, I’m getting a sinking feeling that maybe I should’ve chosen somewhere else… literally anywhere else. But it’s too late now.
“Thanks,” I tell Ethan as I tilt my head back and swallow a few glugs before wandering around the darkened room to find an empty booth.
After a few minutes of wandering around, I do find a smalltable off to the side near the back of the room, which isn’t quite as private as I wanted, but it’ll have to do. I take a seat on the high-top chair and clamp both hands around my cool, damp glass and wait, heart pounding in my throat.
Time passes like molasses, but eventually, the clock reaches nine, and I know he’ll be here any minute.
“C-Cedrick?” comes a soft, stuttering voice to my right, and my head jerks toward it.
“Fuck.Madison,” I greet him, eyes lighting up at the sight of him. He’s dressed in dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt. His dark mousy hair is swept away from his face, but when he drops his chin to his chest, a tendril falls in front of his eyes, and I ache to sweep it away.
“H-hi.” He clears his throat and stands up a bit straighter, like he’s steeling himself. “Hi,” he says again, more confidently, and my heart clenches tightly.
This boy.
Fuck me.
“Hi, darlin’.”
“Oh,” he squeaks, cheeks flushin’ red, and I can’t help but grin at the sight. He’s so incredibly beautiful, I almost forgot how ethereal he is in person. “You wore it,” he says, referring to my makeup, and I just smirk in response.
“Cameras just don’t do you justice,” I tell him bluntly as I look him up and down. “Well, take a seat. Don’t just stand there all night.” I lift my arm toward the chair in front of me and gesture for him to sit. Madison, still flushed, swallows thickly and shuffles over to the chair and lifts himself into it.
“You can’t j-just say things-things like th-that,” he mutters, eyes pinned to the table.
I’m trapped in his snare.
“Like what?” I ask, dazed.
“Like that cameras don’t do me justice,” he mutters. “It makes you sound crazy or something.”
I lift a brow at him and smirk. “But you already know I’m crazy, so what’s it matter what I say?”
“Other people might hear you.”
“So?”
“So?” he repeats, voice raising a few octaves.
“You think I care what other people think, little mouse?”
“Oh, God.” He flushes brightly all over again, face shining from the force of his blush, and I fuckin’ revel in it.
I lean forward and reach toward his face. My finger traces down his cheek, following the warm path his blood is flowing. “Beautiful.”
Madison scoffs.
“I mean it,” I reiterate, “you are beautiful, Madison.”
