“Not really,” he says and then looks thoughtful for a second. “Well, maybe a little. I didn’t realize?—”
He breaks off, his eyes over my shoulder, and I glance back to see what he’s looking at. It’s Madeline and Castillo, of course, still on the bench in their winter gear, talking.
“Realize what?” I ask, and I try not to sound as desperately curious as I feel.
Ben shrugs, unhelpfully. “I didn’t realize… She acts like herself around you,” he says like he’s thinking aloud. “I’m pretty sure this is the first time she’s acted like herself around someone she’s dating, and I didn’t realize that she wasn’t until tonight.”
I want to sayHow does she actandWho else has she datedandI hope they didn’t hurt her, but I don’t because it’s not my business.
“Who wouldn’t want that?” is what I eventually say, because I’m not sure what else there is. “She’s great.”
Great. There are probably a hundred better words to describe Madeline, but that’s the one that comes out while I talk to her oldest, closest friend.
“Yeah, she is,” he agrees. “Just, you know, treat her well, okay? She means a lot to me, and I like it when she’s happy.”
It’s such a one-eighty from thehurt her and I’ll kill youtalk I was half expecting two minutes ago that I can’t think of what tosay. I’m just suddenly so, so glad that Madeline has him in her life.
“Me, too,” I finally say and sneak a look back at her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
MADELINE
“Do you need to leave?”I ask, putting my glass in the sink.
“Eventually.” Javi reaches around me to do the same, boxing me in against my kitchen counter as he does. “If I’m not at my mom’s house in the morning, there’ll be questions.”
He’s got on the same sweater he did at New Year’s, something soft and lightweight that feels nice when his arms rub against mine from behind. He changed out of his button-down and slacks to go ice skating, and I wonder if this sweater is his Nice But Not Too Nice outfit. Date Nice. The thought gives me butterflies.
“You don’t have a curfew?” I tease, and now his body is pressing against mine, his hands on the counter next to my hips.
“Not these days. Why—you want me to break rules for you?” He presses against me harder, the points of my hips against the countertop, the line of his erection grinding against my ass. I’m still wearing the dress and tights I had on earlier, at the Not a Bridal Shower, and my whole body’s gone hot.
I flatten my hands on the counter and arch just enough to push back against him. “Of course I don’t,” I say. “I’m only here for an above-board, fully approved liaison with the t’s dotted and the i’s crossed.”
“It’s important to always dot your t’s.” He gathers my hair in one hand and tilts my head. He’s gentle but he’s got a grip like iron, and a horny little sigh escapes me. My eyes seem to have closed at some point.
“Shit,” I say, and his teeth scrape down my neck.
“Hard to think straight?”
“I’m thinking great.” I mean to sayright now, but he bites my earlobe and the words turn into a moan.
“’Course you are,” he says. His tongue traces the shell of my ear. “Bed?”
My bed is, like, a whole room away.
“Your mud bones aren’t up for bending me over the counter and having your way?”
That gets his face buried in my hair and a sound that’s half laugh and half moan.
“That what you want, you—you vixen-minx?”
“I wouldn’t say no.” I can feel his smile against my neck. Now is the coyness part of the game. Saying demure shit like that while shamelessly grinding back against his cock through all our clothes, practically begging for it.
“I think you’d like it.” Now his other hand is around my hip, squeezing, like he can hold me still. “Some morning, maybe. You’re in here wearing nothing but my shirt, at the counter, making coffee. Standing just like this when I come in.” Now his lips are in my hair, his hand splayed over my stomach. Fuck, he has nice hands. “I wouldn’t even say anything, just push our clothes out of the way and fuck you like this. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
My breathing sounds like it’s through a megaphone, I swear. “God, probably,” I rasp out.
