“Talk to me, Maddie!”
When she reaches the door, she spins around. “You came here thinking that if we had sex then that meant everything was set right between us?”
“No, I thought…”
“Sex isn’t part of the work.”
I feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut.
“I just wanted to make you feel better.”
“But that’s not what you said just now.”
“I was caught up in the moment. I…If you’re not ready for that…”
I have to go home now,” she tells me. “Please give me space.”
Chapter
Fourteen
Ewan
As promised, I show up for beers at fire pit time at Rowdy’s house.
I haven’t talked to Maddie in three days. She’d had every opportunity. All I do is sit on my front porch and watch her house, and watch my dog, Pascal, shadow her every move.
Tonight, Rowdy introduces me properly to Foster.
We shake hands by the fire, and it makes that caveman part of my brain feel better when I see how attached he is to Ari.
“So, what’s the story with you and Maddie now?” Rowdy asks.
I shrug and drink my Dr. Pepper because I’m just not in the mood for alcohol tonight. “You’d have to ask her that. She asked for space. I gave her space.”
“I think what you do is you go over there and tell her that this is enough bullshit, and you need to decide right now if you’re both going to move on with your lives or give it another try,” Rowdy says, his voice slightly slurred.
I’m not about to argue with my friend when he’s half-buzzed.
When the fire gets too hot, I head up to the house and chuck my empty bottle into the recycling bin. People have brought snacks, but I’m not hungry. I’m falling back into my old ways of not eating when I can’t be near Maddie. It’s stupid, and I hate it. But it’s better than feeling nothing.
I open the screen door to head back outside, and nearly run straight into Maddie, who’s standing on the screened-in porch, watching me.
“Hi,” she says.
She looks fantastic. Her hair is piled into a bun, and she’s wearing her glasses, which she always said made her look like a nerd. A touch of lip gloss shines on her lips. She wears a denim jacket, a Lilo & Stitch T-shirt, and some crazy high-waisted pants that I can’t make sense of, but they work on her. Breathtakingly beautiful. More than ever.
“Feeling better?”
“The picture of health.”
“Good.”
“I went back to work today,” she throws in my face.
I mutter “your funeral” under my breath.
“Excuse me?”
