“Yeah, Wesley, it can be that bad.”
“Maddy," he whispers in my ear. “I have spent the last week thinking about you way too much, struggling to talk to you without screwing things up more."
“I'm not your sister," I tell him. He called me Maddy when he was pretending to be my brother. “And don’t try to sweet talk me right now.”
“Well, first, I’m glad you’re not my sister. That’s a relief,” he says. “Second, I didn't disappear on you last week for the sake ofpayback, in case it was a thought in your mind. My attorney called at two in the morning to tell me we had a big problem."
“I understand," I tell him. I do, but I don’t. His attorney needs a name, and she needs to do a better job, as well as stop concerning herself about me so much. Who knows … she’s probably after all of hisconfidentialparts.
“Layla said you got a new job," he says, placing another kiss on my neck.
“Well, it's in the works. I'm taking things a little slower this time to make sure I know what I'm getting into first. You know … it’s the smart thing to do—learn from a mistake.“
“Yeah, yeah, I get your drift, but I'm glad to hear," he says. “You know, you saved my ass, Maddy. I saw your commentary on the published article. Twenty people must have forwarded me your rebuttal that night. You put your job on the line for me, and I never expected you to do that or thought anyone in this world would do something like that for me."
“No problem."I’d like to say:I saved your ass after you walked out on me,but for the sake of ending that portion of this awkwardness, I’ll keep my thoughts private.
“You smell," he tells me.
I turn over, shocked he said that. “Hey?"
“Are these the same clothes you were wearing last week when I was here?"
“Yes, but I washed them this week."
“Mmm. You have makeup on your face, and I don't think mascara belongs on your cheeks."
“Don't look at me or smell me anymore."
“Too late," he says.
“Guys who tell girls they smell like roses are always lying, you know. But the guys who tell a girl they look and smell like trash, those are the keepers. It's true."
“I am a little smelly," I tell him.
“See? I'm honest."
“I brushed my teeth this morning," I tell him. Not that it matters when the rest of me smells.
Wesley rolls off my bed and pulls me with him. “Come with me."
“Where?"
He doesn't answer, but he pulls me out my bedroom door and into the bathroom across the hall. He reaches into the shower and turns the faucet on, then hits the vent switch on the wall. “I'll be waiting for you in your room. I'm taking you out for lunch."
“Are you saying you won't go out with me if I don't shower first?"
“I'll shut the shower off, and we can just go if you'd like? I don't care if you shower. Smelly girls don't bother me. They make me feel better about myself." He's laughing, but I don't know which part is the joke. Ishouldshow a little shame for the state I let myself fall into, but this situation has been too overwhelming to even comprehend.
I pull my sweatshirt up and over my head, letting it fall to the ground, then drop my pants and panties. “Oh, I should wait out there," he tells me.
“Okay," I sigh.
After stepping into the shower, I yank on the shower curtain across the metal rod, but Wesley's hand closes around my wrist. “Maddy, I have been trying my hardest to respect you, but you're making this hard."
I glance down at the bulge in his pants, smirking as I bite down on my lip. “Guess so."
“You know what. I forgot to shower this morning too," he says.
