“Are we staying here?”
“We can if you want to. I’m happy to carry along the hall, later.”
“Is that where your bedroom is?”
Maddox nods and I slide off the stool, taking a sip of the spiked drink. “Lead the way. I want to see the room I’ll wake up in.”
He emerges from behind the bar, swapping the beer to take my hand, his palm cold from the bottle. We walk down the corridor to the farthest door, an outdoors deck running alongside the tinted glass.
The bedroom he leads me into is enormous. There’s the king size bed on one side, a large entertainment area opposite, four recliner chairs next to one another in front of the largest screen I’ve ever seen.
Closer to the windows, there’s a desk with two laptops on top, shelves stacked with books to the side.
A walk-in wardrobe is opposite, although calling it walk-in hardly denotes the size. It’s more like another full room—probably larger than our entire flat—and I see crisp suits hanging in their plastic dry-clean bags. A shelf of shoes underneath.
“Where do you want me?”
I wince as the words come out of my mouth but if he notices, I can’t tell.
He tugs me towards the large bed, taking my glass and setting it on the bedside cabinet, then bending to take off my shoes, lining them up neatly beside the bed. His join them asecond later before he climbs into the centre, still balancing his bottle, taking a swig.
“Would you like to listen to music?” He rolls over to the matching cabinet on the other side, picking up a remote and pushing the button, loud metal thrashing from the mounted speakers.
My body retracts into a little ball at the shock. Even after he finds the volume control, I want to put my hands over my ears.
“Maybe not,” he mutters, switching it off, the silence loud in contrast. “How about a movie?” He picks up a different remote and the large screen flashes into life, thankfully on mute. “There’s a library you can browse through.”
“Won’t I be asleep?” My throat tightens with panic at the idea, voice strained as I add, “Isn’t that the point?”
I shuffle backwards on the bed until my rear hits against the headboard. My knees curl up to my chest as I reach for the drink, taking a large gulp and swallowing it straight down, not bothering to savour the taste.
A creeping dread skitters up my body, starting at my toes, snaking up my legs, then my spine, slithering around my neck until my throat is so tight I can barely swallow. It spreads its dark fingers across my shoulders, making my hairs stand on end.
Then the alcohol hits, washing through my brain until all the rough edges of my thoughts are smoothed over. I take another large gulp, holding it in my mouth for as long as I can, hoping to aid the absorption so I stop caring sooner.
Maddox moves, making the mattress shake, edging close enough to put his arm around me again and this time the simple gesture makes me bitter. “Could you not?”
“What’s wrong? I’ve had my arm around you for weeks.”
And what’s wrong is that I thought he wouldn’t really make me go through with it, not with how close we’ve been, and that obviously mistaken belief turns me a fool.
I’m furious this will be the end of us, and I really like him. Not just the presents or the consideration or his attractiveness but the whispered asides in class, the quiet encouragement when I’m feeling stupid, drowning under the weight of all the things I haven’t had the chance to learn.
I liked the strange awe on his face the first day in maths class, the way he always buys me something I’ll enjoy at the tuck shop without asking, even though there are plenty of options I’d hate.
He’s the perfect boy for a girl who once told Santa she didn’t need to tell him what presents she wanted because if her dad loved her, he’d already know… only to discover he hadn’t a clue.
A perfect boy who wouldn’t make me do this unless he needed me to, and that idea circles around into guilt because if we’re genuinely close, why am Icharginghim for something heneeds.
Doesn’t that make me just as wrong?
I see the strain lines on his face and feel a tremble in his arms as they rest on the covers. He hates this for me, but he won’t stop… and I want to know why, and I already know he would have told me if he could because he’s Maddox and he always does what he can to make my life easy.
A tremor starts in my shoulders, and I can’t make it stop. I want to jump off the bed and pace the floor, but I don’t know if my wobbly legs will carry me.
This is for Ant. Suck it up and do whatever you need to.
Maddox’s voice is a soft whisper as he says, “I promise I won’t hurt you.”
