by Grey, R. S.
It’s my final turn and I jump to my feet, eager to prove my skills. The game’s tied. We’re neck and neck with Arianna and Andy. They’ve won two games, though, and they’re getting cocky. They’re talking about joining a bowling league, asking the manager to put their signed headshots up on the wall. It’s time someone taught them a lesson.
“Ben, hold my beer,” I say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and then walking over to retrieve my pink sparkly bowling ball. Earlier, a twelve-year-old tried to steal it. Eli had to tell her to scram.
I’m less steady on my feet than I was an hour ago. The lane looks ridiculously long. I’ll never be able to get the ball all the way down there, but I want victory more than I have all night. I start to walk forward, gaining momentum, rear back, and let the ball go. It rolls fast, not hitting the bumpers once. When it’s close to the pins, it’s still centered perfectly in the lane.
No way. NO WAY!
My hands shoot to my mouth. The ball connects and every single pin goes flying.
“OH MY GOD! I DID IT! I DID IT!”
I’m jumping up and down. If I could cartwheel, I’d do one. Big hands spin me around and Ben lifts me up.
“Did you see it?!” I ask as the room whirls around me. My smile is so big it hurts.
He laughs. “Yeah, I was right here.”
Of course.
My feet dangle off the ground as my body slides against him. Our hips are aligned perfectly. We sizzle.
“It was a really good strike,” I conclude, my voice breathy. “Best one all night, if you ask me.”
His gaze is on my lips as his arms tighten around me. “Agreed.”
“I want to rub everyone’s faces in our victory.”
“We can hear you.” Eli laughs.
“Also, you haven’t won yet,” Andy points out, bitter. “Ben still has to go.”
“Right. Don’t botch this for us,” I say as he sets me back down. My tone is full of mock solemnity. I brush a hand over my clothes as if to straighten them. Clear my throat. Try to affect a more serious manner. “This is important. It all comes down to you.”
As he prepares to take his shot, I walk back over to our group. Eli bumps my hip and I glance over. He straightens his glasses then lifts his chin toward Ben.
“You two are really cute.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Maddie, c’mon—it’s obvious you two have feelings for each other. You’ve been flirting all night.”
My cheeks redden with the realization that everyone has likely seen me drooling over him all night.
“Earlier, you were warning me to stay away from him,” I point out.
“Yeah, well, maybe I was wrong.”
I hear Ben’s ball roll down the lane and the tell-tale smack of it colliding with the pins. My eyes are still on Eli as Arianna and Andy groan in defeat.
“He wants you—bad.”
14
Madison
“What’ll you have, Chief?”
“Double bacon cheeseburger—”
I clear my throat forcefully.
“Single bacon cheeseburger,” my dad amends, glowering at me.
“No bacon and no cheese, Dad.”
He throws up his hands. “Are you trying to make me depressed? What’s the point of living if you can’t enjoy the taste of melted cheese on a burger?”
His theatrics won’t work on me. I yank the menu out of his hand, stack it on top of mine, and pass them to the waitress with a sweet smile. “He’ll have a turkey burger on a whole grain bun with a side of steamed vegetables. I’ll have the garden salad with grilled chicken, please.”
She jots down our orders then winks at my dad as she takes the menus and slides them up under her arm. “How about I accidentally spill a few French fries onto your plate on my way out of the kitchen?”
My dad beams. “I always knew you were a good egg, Sally.”
When she walks away, my dad gloats. His big mustached smile gleams at me from across the table.
“Proud of yourself?” I ask, tacking on a what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you smile.
“Very.”
My phone vibrates on the seat beside me, but I don’t reach for it right away. I wait until one of my dad’s friends walks by our booth and they strike up a conversation. There are a lot of claps on shoulders and hearty laughs between old buddies. Once he’s good and distracted, I reach for my phone, hold it underneath the table, and nearly explode with excitement when I see I have a new text from Ben. Seeing his name on my screen is exhilarating. It doesn’t matter that we’ve been texting pretty consistently over the last week, ever since bowling; each time feels as wonderful as the last.
Ben: Andy and I watched that true crime documentary you recommended last night. It was good. I need more recs. I’m addicted.
I smile, proud. He liked my recommendation! He thinks I have good taste!
Madison: There’s another good one, but I can’t remember the name. I’ll check when I get home.
Ben: Oh…you aren’t home?
Madison: It’s Friday night, of course I’m not home. I’m very cool, Ben. Or haven’t you realized?
The waitress returns with our drinks and I glance up to ensure my dad is still chatting with his friend.
My phone vibrates again.
Ben: So what are you up to then?
I nibble on my lip while considering my options. I can’t very well tell him the truth—it’s too pathetic. I decide to be coy instead, throw him off my scent.
Madison: Bad things.
Ben: Gone rogue on me?
Madison: Oh yes. I’m stealing money out of a bank vault as we speak. All black attire, getaway car, the works.
Ben: Huh. From what I can see, it looks like you’re about to eat dinner…
My eyes widen and I jerk my gaze up, scanning the diner.
The place is packed with a mix of old folks and a few young families. It’s the type of crowd who enjoys early bird specials, just like my dad and me. Ben isn’t in here. I would have spotted him immediately. It’s like my brain has a homing beacon on him.
Then movement draws my attention out past the window and sure enough, there he is, standing out on the sidewalk with Andy. They’re both in suits, looking as if they just left work. My stomach clenches tight and I drop my phone on my lap.
Our gazes lock through the glass, and I’m worried when I see mischief lurking in his. It’s clear he’s up to no good even before he mutters something to Andy. They both pivot and change course.
Oh no. Surely he’s not going to…
The door opens and in walks the subject of all my fantasies, tall and intimidating in his navy suit. My stomach drops. My worlds are colliding. He’s not actually going to stay, right? My dad doesn’t know we’re friends.
But, of course, Ben does stay, and worse, while he’s talking to the hostess, he points to the empty booth just two down from ours. She smiles wide and leads them over. Andy shoots me a wave and waggles his eyebrows before he slides into the side of the booth facing away from me. Ben claims the other side, right smack dab in my line of sight.
His smirk is barely hidden.
I’m shaking.
Good thing a rambunctious family of five sits in the booth between us or I’d immediately bolt. One of the kids screams that he doesn’t like spaghetti noodles, just spaghetti sauce. I want to high-five him for the distraction.
“Maddie, you remember Nolan, right?” my dad asks, drawing my attention to his friend. “He and I went to high school together.”
I glance up, my attention stays on Ben. I couldn’t tell you if Nolan was white, black, purple, green, if he had one head or five.
“I haven’t seen you since you were yea high,” he says, holding out his hand just below his hip.
I nod. “I’m good. Thanks for asking. How are you?”
They stare at me like I’m from another planet. Oh shoot. What did he just say?
My dad laughs and shakes h
is head, making excuses for me that I don’t care to hear. Their conversation drifts into the ether as Ben takes off his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves. I swear to God, the scent of his body wash carries over to me.
I’m dying here.
I reach for my water and guzzle half of it down as Nolan walks away.
My dad frowns. “You okay?”
I nod and my phone vibrates on my lap. I can’t check it. I know it’s Ben. I know it will be a taunting, teasing, make-me-bad text, and I cannot for the life of me survive this meal if I let him get into my head. I force my attention onto my dad and smile.
“I’m fine, just really hungry.”
He snorts. “I would be too if all I ate was rabbit food. You should have ordered a double cheeseburger for yourself. Could use a little meat on those bones.”
Of course. My dad wants nothing more than to fatten me up like a stuffed pig. If he had it his way, we’d be slathering cheese on every one of our meals.
The way Ben positions himself, he makes it so I can’t look at my dad without seeing him. He’s there, filling up the entire restaurant, his presence so impossible to ignore that I start to sweat.
My phone vibrates again and my dad frowns.
“You need to take that?”
I reach down to turn my phone off, but before I do, Ben’s words catch my eye.
Ben: I have a challenge for you.
I suck in a breath.
“Maddie?” my dad asks.
I clear my throat. “It’s nothing. The bank.”
Clearly my taunt about a bank heist is still on my mind.
“The bank?” he asks skeptically. “Since when do they send texts?”
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head and turn off my phone. Get it together. “Not the bank, just some spam thing. Oh look, they turned the game on.”
I point to the small TV mounted over the bar. Some sports team is on there, running around a sports field catching sports balls of one sort or another. I am so distracted. I need to talk to Ben, now. What does he think he’s doing?!
My dad turns to see what I’m talking about and I glare at Ben over his shoulder, hoping to send him a whole slew of warnings with just one glance.
It’s no use. My scowl is met with bold indifference. Those amber eyes are locked on me as he throws an arm across the top of the booth. The cherry on top of the sundae is his barely contained smirk. He’s thinks he’s untouchable. He thinks this is all fun and games. He likes how nervous I am, how uneasy I feel.
I watch as the waitress walks by their table, and if she was putty with my dad, she’s completely helpless when Ben aims a handsome smile her way. He’s pointing at my booth, saying something, and she nods, grinning.
My scowl only deepens as I watch her walk away and disappear into the kitchen only to reappear a few moments later with a big ol’ chocolate milkshake.
Ice cream confections are meant to be innocent little things, but this one is lethal. She waltzes right over to our table and starts to set it down.
“This is from that—”
“Oh! Thank you!” I reach up to yank it out of her hand, and I can tell she’s annoyed that I cut her off.
She tries again. “That gentlema—”
“Gentle machine makes the best milkshakes,” I finish for her. “I know. Thank you for bringing this over. I’ve been craving one all day.”
Her eyes narrow and it’s obvious she thinks I have a few screws loose.
My dad watches the exchange with equal amounts of confusion. When she walks away, he tilts his head, studying me. “Did you order that?”
“No. She must have just sensed that I needed one. Here, have a sip.”
I don’t have to tell him twice. It’s perfect, really. My dad has a bigger sweet tooth than I do, and this chocolate milkshake is the just the diversion I needed.
Thank you, Ben.
I stand and explain I’m going to the bathroom. As I pass Ben’s table with my chin raised and my shoulders pushed back, I completely ignore him.
It doesn’t matter. I know he’ll follow me anyway.
I barely take two steps down the side hallway where the bathrooms are located before I sense him behind me. I pick up my pace as if I’m trying to outrun him. I reach the door of the first bathroom and am about to twist the handle when his hand covers mine, keeping me from opening it.
His mouth hits the shell of my ear as his chest hits my back. His body blocks out the hallway light, casting me in shadow.
“Don’t you want to know what my challenge is?” he taunts.
I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to stay steady on my feet.
Isn’t this already a challenge? Having to stand here in this hallway with his skin on my skin and his body on mine? Keeping the truth from slipping out, burying my true desires—it’s all a challenge.
“Madison…”
Has he always seemed this intimidating or is it worse right now when my heart is stumbling over itself and my hand is shaking? We can’t do this—whatever this is.
We’re in a busy diner. This bathroom probably isn’t empty. In a second, someone’s going to try to turn the handle and exit but they won’t be able to because we’re keeping it closed from the outside.
“Ben,” I whisper. “My dad is going to find us.”
“He doesn’t have to know.”
His voice is low and menacing. He’s playing the villain I cast him as. Eli’s words filter through my mind: He wants you—bad.
“Did you try the milkshake?”
I hear the amusement in his tone and squeeze my eyes closed.
“That was reckless. You nearly got me caught.”
“And yet here you are.”
Voices carry down the hallway. Conversations seem to close in on us. Is that my dad? Is he still at our table?
Ben’s free hand squeezes my shoulder, and he applies just enough pressure that I’m forced to spin around and look up at him. When his gaze catches on my expression, his brows furrow in frustration. He looks devastatingly handsome…handsome and mad.
“Are you scared?” he asks, hands falling away from me.
Our eyes lock and my heart pounds.
“Terrified,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Then I look away, embarrassed by my honesty.
He steps closer and our hips brush. The contact makes me lose my breath and he must enjoy it too because he reaches out to grip my waist, pulling me closer. “Worried your dad will find you back here with me?”
That’s nothing, nothing compared to my real fears: the falling sensation I felt when Ben walked into the diner, my excitement every time his name appears on my phone, the easy banter, the give and take. We’re building something. Can’t he feel it? Is that why he’s leaning closer? His chest brushing mine…
“Honey?” A voice carries down the hallway and I try to jerk away from Ben, but he doesn’t let me.
It’s our waitress carrying two plates of food: my salad and my dad’s hamburger.
If she thinks it’s weird that Ben and I are pressed up against the bathroom door, sharing an intimate moment, she doesn’t let on. She just tilts her head back toward our booth with a knowing look in her eyes. “Food’s ready.”
She disappears and Ben finally steps back. I take full advantage, bolting down that hallway as fast as my feet can take me, and I don’t even get my feelings hurt when Ben walks out a few minutes after me and doesn’t look in my direction. He throws some cash down onto his table, yanks his jacket on, and then he and Andy head outside.
My dad finally catches sight of him as they walk past us on the sidewalk.
His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say a word. I pray he doesn’t realize Ben and Andy were in the restaurant. To him, it should look like they’re just walking by after work, like they would have done if Ben hadn’t spotted me in here and come inside to taunt me.
* * *
That night, I lie in bed, staring at my phone, analyzing the last text Ben sent. I have
a challenge for you.
I never texted him back—even after we finished eating and left the diner—and I’m too chicken to text him back now. I’ll just ask him about it in the morning when we both show up at the library for story time.
I’ll be the one in charge then, the one calling the shots. I won’t have him cornering me in hallways and making me sweat.
In fact, the next morning, I’m back to my chipper self, more confident than ever that I can deal with my all-consuming crush on Ben Rosenberg and live to tell the tale. I act like yesterday never happened, like we didn’t almost kiss in that diner hallway and my feelings aren’t in danger of boiling over. I’ve been doing it for weeks, feigning disinterest. Today should be no different, except for the fact that Ben didn’t get the memo. He doesn’t want to play along.
He walks in with an air about him, like he’s just won the race and he’s doing a victory lap. He’s wearing a black shirt, and I decide that color should be deleted from his wardrobe because I just can’t take it. He must like the way I ogle him, though, because he’s clearly gloating as he passes me a surprise latte.
“I had them add a little hazelnut. That’s how you like it, right?”
“Oh.” I glance down at the to-go cup, a little shocked. “Yes, thank you.”
“No problem. How was the rest of your dinner?”
I clear my throat. “Fine. Better than fine, in fact. I ate all of my salad.”
I glance up in time to catch his very subtle smirk. “Like a good little girl.”
My stomach ties itself into a knot—a double knot.
“You think you really got me yesterday, don’t you? That show in the hallway? Very daring. If my dad had found us, you’d be six feet under right now.”
He shrugs, unperturbed. “Maybe, but it would have been worth it. You should have seen yourself. You really thought I was going to take advantage of you right there, in the middle of the diner.”
