The tension dissipates from my body and I pull away before he notices my car.
On the ride home, I realize how much trouble I’m in. I’ve done the one thing I shouldn’t have. I’ve fallen for him, truly fallen for him as a person, and his text messages suggest he has for me as well.
But does he want me for more than one night?
Even if he did, would the novelty wear off after he had me for a while and he figures out I’m still the nerdy girl I was in high school at heart?
Once I’m inside the house, I head to bed, falling into the softness of my mattress. My phone dings an hour later, stirring me from sleep.
Mauro: I like you checking up on me. Tough one, but I’m okay. Maybe you can show your civil serviceman some gratitude tomorrow with a kiss.
My girly parts go into a full five-alarm fire and I don’t respond because right now the only thing I’d be texting him back would be to come straight over when he finishes his shift in the morning.
17
Mauro
I’m not sure what I expected when I walked into the tile store. Okay, that’s bullshit. I expected Madison to run into my arms, clinging to me like a damn Koala bear, thankful I was alive and standing in front of her in one piece. I didn’t expect her just to tell me that she picked me up a coffee and ask if we should go with either blue or gray.
“I figure dark stained floors and cream colored cabinets in the kitchen. Since we broke down the wall between the kitchen and dining room, how about we install an island with seating for kids to eat breakfast.” She taps her pen to her mouth, contemplating the idea.
“Sounds good.”
She glances to the side at me. “I was thinking soapstone for the countertops?”
“Cool.” I sip my coffee not looking at the textiles laid in front of me.
“Can you excuse us for a moment, Meadow?” Madison asks the young woman who’s been helping us and sneaking glances my way. She has long blonde hair that matches her long legs. She’s attractive and maybe before Madison, I would’ve liked the looks she’s been giving me. But there’s only one woman who’s been filling my mind this morning and that’s the one whose eyes are locked on me right now.
“Certainly. Just holler when you’re ready.” Her heels click as she walks away.
Madison places her pen down on her pad of paper next to her coffee.
“You know I want your opinion, right? Don’t just go along with whatever I suggest. Feel free to challenge me.”
Her voice and her eyes are soft and sincere. Just like they always are. Maybe that’s why the ache in my chest won’t disappear. After her text last night, I thought she’d be more enthusiastic about seeing me this morning and would lower the wall she’d put up between us. Obviously, I was wrong.
“I know, but I’m not really good at this design stuff. Maybe I should go back to the house and get started on the drywall.”
“No!” Her hand presses on my arm. “I want us to do this together.”
“Okay.” I shrug and stuff my hands into the pockets of my jeans, not sure what advice I can really offer.
“According to the budget you gave me, we have…”
She rattles on about square feet and inches, but I really don’t care because my mind is still focused on why I give a shit if she cares.
What the fuck am I doing? Sitting here in this textile place not worried about the house anymore but why Madison Kelly who I never knew existed until a month ago doesn’t seem to care that I could have lost my life last night. The flames were hot, the fire unpredictable. High-rise fires are always the riskiest when you go up through a stairway. Maybe it was the relief I felt when we were safe back at the station or the grateful look on my crews’ faces when the truck pulled into the station. Everyone found their phones to contact their loved ones.
I knew I’d find a text from Ma, but Madison’s message surprised me. The elation inside me grew and that’s when the light bulb popped on, I want more than a kiss from this woman.
Now to arrive this morning to an all business Madison wounded me when it shouldn’t. I told her not to see me as a hero and if she’d have jumped in my arms when I walked in the shop this morning, I’d know she hadn’t listened to me. Having her see me as a hero only raises the expectation level and sets us up for failure.
“Honestly, I’m cool with whatever, Madison. I just want clean and streamlined and it seems like you have it handled here.”
Meadow returns with more samples of stained wood, holding it up to the backsplash.
“I don’t want the bathrooms to look the same as the kitchen, can we do a painted wood on the cabinetry with an epoxy that resembles marble?”
Madison doesn’t bother acknowledging my comment, making me sit there through the entire ordeal, shooting me a pissed off look whenever I say cool or okay instead of giving an opinion.
By the time we’re readying to leave Meadow slips me her number when Madison goes to the bathroom complaining about too much coffee. A sour feeling takes over my stomach over the fact that I accepted it. Not that I’m going to use it, but I never want to make anyone feel bad by refusing. Still, somehow the piece of paper in my pocket makes me feel dishonest.
“Do you like Meadow?” Madison asks as we stop on the sidewalk next to our cars. “She worked with me on my last house and manages to get some really great deals. Plus, she really has an eye for modern, trendy and sleek.”
“She’s okay.” I shrug.
Madison rolls her eyes before her fist nails me in the shoulder.
I wrap my hand around the area she hit. “Ooouucchh,” I deadpan, confusion laced in my tone.
“What’s with you?” She juts her hip out, her papers high in her arms.
“Nothing. Tired I guess.”
I use my usual excuse of tiredness to cover up my emotions. The only woman to figure out my M.O. so far is my mom.
“You seemed chipper when you came in.”
“Chipper?”
“Yes, like happy,” she says.
My muscles tense in annoyance. “I know what chipper means,” I bite out.
She throws her hand out. “Whatever. Why don’t you go sleep it off for the rest of the day. I’ll handle the house.” She heads to her car, opening up the passenger side door and tossing her papers in.
“You’d like that, so you can say that I’m not carrying my weight.”
I have no idea where this anger is coming from, but the words leave my lips anyway.
She glances over her shoulder, her forehead scrunching up, not understanding. “No, I wouldn’t. I know how hard you work at the station. I’m sure last night shook you up a little.”
So, she’s finally going to acknowledge last night.
“I’m used to it. It’s my job.”
“I know but still…”
“Don’t baby me, Madison. We signed up for this together.”
She stares at me, her eyes alit with questions. “I’m not. If you want to go to the house, then go to the damn house.” Her voice is raised, causing a man in a business suit to pause briefly behind us on the sidewalk.
“Do you want me to go to the house?” I ask, stepping closer.
She lightly shakes her head, her back falling to the passenger side of her car. “Truth?”
“Always.”
“Not if you’re going to be the jerk you’re being right now.” She crosses her arms and the button on her blouse slides, giving me a glimpse of her green lace bra. My mouth waters and my hands tighten into fists.
“Fine.”
“Fine? What the hell do you want from me?” she asks. Her voice is low and I can tell she doesn’t want to cause a scene by the way she’s glancing around us.
What I want is my lips and my body pressed against hers.
“Nothing.” I step back, closing my eyes to regain any amount of composure I can muster right now. “I’ll see you at the house.” I turn around to head to my truck.
“Mauro?” she calls out.
/> I circle back around, not stopping my feet, walking backward now. “I’m sorry, Madison. I think it’s just the stress getting to me.”
That’s not even a lie. She’ll think it’s the job and the house, but in truth it’s her.
Back in the serenity of my truck, I watch Madison slide into her car and sit for a moment.
I’m such a fucking asshole. Why would I expect her to act like a girlfriend would after last night? She’s not my girlfriend and I need to keep reminding myself of that.
There are two people I can call right now and only one will give me solid, serious advice, so I dial Cristian.
“What’s up?” he answers.
“You have a minute?”
“I just left the gym. You want to grab something to eat?” I hear him tell someone else it’s his brother and he’ll see them tomorrow.
“No. I have to be at the house.”
“I can pick up some food and head over there. I’m sure you and Maddie need to take a break.” My brother’s always thinking of others.
I blow out a breath and run my hand through my hair. “Definitely can’t talk at the house.”
Silence is the only response.
“Cris?”
“You didn’t?”
“Didn’t what?”
“Have sex with her. Please tell me you didn’t give in to the temptation and now you have a house half-finished and you guys can’t stand to be in the same room with each other.”
Irritation raises its head again.
“What are you, her keeper?”
“You did. Jesus, Mauro, what are you thinking? She’s not like your usual girls.” His disappointment is clear from his tone.
“I didn’t sleep with her,” I grind out.
Silence.
“But I want to.”
“Do yourself a favor and go out tonight, find one of your other admirers and screw them. Leave Maddie alone.”
My hands tighten on the steering wheel, wishing he was in front of me and that we were ten again when I could justify wrestling him to the ground and pounding my fist into his face.
“I don’t want to screw anyone else. Hell, I just got a girl’s number five minutes ago.”
An exasperated breath flows over the line. “Good to know.”
“What am I missing here, Cris? Why are you so protective of her and why do you always think the worst of me with her? It’s not like you’re talking to fucking Luca.”
He’s quiet for a long time, but I can hear the sounds of the city through the line—horns honking, bells ringing, and muffled conversations coming and going as he walks.
“Let me ask you something…do you really want something with her? Like something more than one night?”
Two days ago I might’ve said I don’t know, but after last night’s message and my reaction to it I can’t lie to myself any longer.
“I think I do. She’s different, you know?”
“I do know and that’s why I’m asking because if you cross the line, Mauro, there’s no going back. You’re business partners and I have a feeling that if you hurt her, she’ll be gone forever.”
I swear Cristian is talking in code.
“So, you don’t think us is a horrible idea then?” I look over my shoulder and pull out into traffic.
He chuckles. “No, I think you just need to make sure you’ll give this an honest shot otherwise leave her alone.”
I drive for a minute not responding and Cristian stays on the line, knowing me well enough to know I’m deep in thought.
“Am I missing something?” I finally ask.
I follow Madison down the street the house is on. Construction crews for the new roof are already hard at work. With the dark clouds looming I’m not sure how long their workday will be.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“I mean, do you like her or something?”
Even if he did, I’m not sure I could hold back and do the right thing. I never thought a girl could come between my brothers and me, but a possessiveness runs through my veins whenever he and I speak about Madison.
He laughs like I’m a stand-up comedian. “No. I just don’t want to see her hurt. I saw… look, just be one hundred percent sure, that’s all I’m saying.”
“I will, now stop lecturing me.” I park a few cars down from Madison. “See you later.”
I hang up the phone, hearing Cristian’s sarcastic mumble of ‘you’re welcome asshole’ before the line disconnects.
I still can’t help but think I’m missing something that makes Cristian put on a big brother persona when it comes to Madison. She wasn’t even in his grade. What kind of connection could they have?
Grabbing my tools I head over to Madison where she stands beside her car putting on her ball cap. She turns to me. “I think we need to talk.”
My feet come to a sudden stop. There’s no smile on her face, no reassuring tone, nothing in her body language that implies that everything will be fine.
Fuck, now I’ve done it.
18
Madison
On the way to the house, I tried to figure out why Mauro was so angry. What had set him off? The last contact we had was a flirtatious text and I let it go because I just don’t know if we should cross that line.
But one thing is for sure, we can’t let any unresolved issues remain between us or it’ll ruin this project. When I saw his truck parked a few cars behind me, and I made the decision to stop him before we went into the house so we could talk and leave all our toxic issues outside.
“I think we need to talk.” I tuck my hair into my ball cap, flipping my ponytail out.
He drops his tool bag, the stress lined in the creases around his eyes. “I’m sorry, I can’t even explain why I acted like that…”
I hold my hand for him to stop. “You know what I think?”
A smile tugs on the corner of his lips and the tension plaguing his face loosens. “What?”
“That I’ve done something to upset you and you didn’t think I wanted your opinion on textiles. I tried to go back through everything since this morning, but I can’t figure out where I might’ve not treated you as an equal. It’s important that we keep an open line of communication between us, so just tell me. I promise I’m a big girl and can handle it.” I stand up straighter like I’m proving how tough I am.
He stands there, his head tilted like I’m a mathematical equation he’s having trouble trying to figure out.
“It’s okay, give it to me.” I close my eyes tight waiting for him to rip the Band-Aid off.
“Give it to you?” he asks and it’s true that you can hear a smile in someone’s voice. “Open your eyes,” he almost whispers.
I do and his blue eyes are right in front of me, a smirk on his face.
“Did you think I was going to sucker punch you?” He steps back and I miss his nearness immediately.
“No. It’s stupid. Something Lauren and I do when we have to tell the other person something bad. Like if you don’t see how pained their face is for having to tell you it helps you cope better.”
He looks as confused as I am as to why I’m telling him this. Embarrassment heats my face.
The roofers are pounding nails into place and we’re standing outside the car making spectacles of ourselves. At least I am.
“I’m not upset with anything to do with the house,” he says.
Oh phew. That’s a load off. I’d thought I was being fair, but of course the person writing the lists always thinks everything’s split down the middle.
“You’re working too hard. You’re exhausted. I get it and really, I don’t mind being here longer hours. I don’t think…”
He laughs, shaking his head.
Now this is the us I love. Not that version back at the tile place. My sixteen-year-old self is impressed by the way I’ve been able to develop this growing friendship with Mauro.
“No?” I ask, taking the hint that my statement isn’t correct.
“No.” He shakes his head.
“What could it be then? Last night? Did the fire bring up bad memories of Hunter? Do you want to talk about it? I know we’ve never really talked about anything too deep, but I’m a good listener. Just ask Lauren and Van.” He places his fingers over my lips, stepping forward and caging me against the car. He really likes this domineering role of having his body hovering over mine. Let’s face it, I kinda like it, too.
“Close your eyes, Madison,” he whispers.
One hand lands on the roof of my car and then the other one next to my head.
When my eyes are still open a few seconds later, he repeats his earlier statement. “Close your eyes.” His voice is soft and sultry and could probably make me strip down for him right now if we weren’t in public.
My eyelids flutter shut but pop back open. “You’re not going to kiss me, are you?”
His head falls forward in defeat, his body language saying I ruined the moment.
“Well?” I prod.
His hands fall back to his sides leaving me free to escape. “Yes, Madison, I was going to kiss you.”
I’m not stupid but what I just did was stupid. I effectively took the damn hose and doused the fire between us. Maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t even know anymore.
“I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “Of course you are.” Picking up his tool bag, he waits for me to walk up the sidewalk first.
“Wait,” I say. He turns in my direction. “You still haven’t explained what made you so angry earlier.”
He looks up to the sky as though the answers are up there somewhere. “I think this is a longer conversation than we can have right now.”
Just as I’m about to suggest we head inside to talk, Emmanuel, the contractor doing our roof, calls out to Mauro from the ladder.
“Saved by the contractor.” Mauro winks and heads up the walkway.
They talk while I bundle the samples in my arms that Meadow gave us. I’ve almost reached them when Emmanuel climbs back up the ladder with some tarps in his hand.
Vote Then Read: Volume I Page 215
