by Monica James
I could try and smooth things over, but what would be the point? I have no intention of ever seeing her again, and it wasn’t like I ever had feelings for her. So with that thought in mind, I step aside and she yanks the door open, making sure to slam it shut behind her.
Well, that was a little dramatic, but I never expected anything less from her.
Letting out a deep breath, I walk to the kitchen, desperate for a much-needed scotch to deal with Hurricane Juliet.
I’m not sorry this has happened; quite frankly, I’m relieved. I know that probably makes me a heartless bastard, but dragging this on for a second longer would make me a fucking heartless bastard. I down the contents of my drink, and just as I pour myself another, there’s a knock at my door.
Silently cursing, I throw back my scotch, knowing I will probably need another hit. When the knock sounds once again, I groan, because if Juliet is standing behind my door, I just might slam it shut in her face. Madison will be here any minute, and I really don’t want Juliet to be standing in my apartment, half nude, when she arrives.
“What?” I bark, opening the door with force.
“Fuck you, too,” Hunter says, looking totally bored as he leans against the doorjamb, looking at his watch. “What took you so long? Are you baking brownies and listening to Michael Bolton while you get ready for your slumber party?” he says, pushing off the doorframe and shoving past me.
“Hi, Hunter. Please, won’t you come inside,” I sarcastically quip, shutting the door behind me. “What are you doing here?” I ask, following him as he walks into my kitchen and helps himself to a beer.
“I was bored,” he replies with a shrug. “All my friends are supposedly busy, so I thought, what the hell, I’ll go annoy my best friend.”
“That’s a lovely story,” I say, “but Madison will be here any minute now. So how ’bout you go annoy Finch?”
“Hell no,” Hunter scoffs, taking a sip of beer. “I predict here will be a lot more fun than over at the Millers’. And besides, I wanna meet Cherry Pie.”
When I roll my eyes, Hunter faux gasps. “What? Are you ashamed of me?” He bites his knuckle, pretending to cry.
Scoffing at his melodramatics, I press. “Hunt, I’m serious, you gotta go.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re right, I am ashamed of you,” I reply with a grin.
Hunter mockingly laughs at my comment, but doesn’t take offense as he boosts himself up and takes a seat on my kitchen counter, happily sipping his beer. I know he’s not going to leave without some form of bribery, so I rack my brain, wondering what I can use to entice him.
“Debbie Does Dallas,” I spit out, hoping like hell this works.
It’s like dangling a carrot in front of a very horny donkey and Hunter stops mid-sip, lowering the bottle with a smirk.
“I want the Blu-ray special edition, and a stack of old-school Jenna. Please and thank you,” he says, waving his beer in my direction, in total understanding of my offer.
“Fine. As soon as you get these, you are leaving, understood?”
“Scout’s honor,” he says, flipping me off, which is his version of the scout salute.
It’s good enough for me, and I race to my bedroom, hoping like hell I find these suckers asap because I haven’t watched them in a long time—a small perk of having Juliet on call, but honestly, I would much rather the porn.
Rummaging through my cabinet, I find a stack of Jenna oldies, but for the life of me, I can’t find Debbie Does Dallas. Grabbing a stack of discs, I look over at the clock and see that it’s 6:50 p.m. Madison will be here any minute, which means I need Hunter gone in seconds. These discs will have to do, but let’s face facts, it’s porn, and any porn will do.
“I can’t find Debbie, but will Riding Miss Daisy and Legally Boned do?” I ask, blindly walking into the kitchen and holding up the discs so I can read the titles off the covers. “Hunt?” I say, when he doesn’t reply.
I’m completely distracted looking at the picture of the busty blonde on the front cover, and it’s only when I hear a throat clearing that I raise my eyes to see what’s going on. The moment I see who’s standing in front of me, the discs go flying behind my shoulder and into the living area because Madison is standing before me, looking beyond embarrassed, while Hunter is standing beside her, looking beyond amused.
“Madison…Hi. Hello,” I say with a stiff upper lip, eyeballing a grinning Hunter. “You’re early.”
Madison nods, her cheeks flustered and blistering a bright red. “Hi, um, yeah. Sorry if I…interrupted,” she says, fiddling with her backpack shoulder strap.
Hunter coughs to cover his laugh, while I continue glaring at him.
“It’s fine, you weren’t interrupting anything. Hunter was just collecting his belongings, which he asked me to mind while his house was, er, getting renovated. They are in no way mine, nor have I watched them,” I lamely explain, and Hunter coughs louder.
Madison nods, but thankfully doesn’t address my obvious lie, nor does she go running for the door, afraid to spend the night at a porn fiend’s house.
“Here, let me take your bag,” I offer, and extend my hand so I can take the backpack from her shoulder.
“Thanks,” she says, and the moment my fingers brush over her skin, my body hums in exhilaration, thrilled that she’s spending the night.
“This is Hunter, by the way,” I say, nodding my chin to my friend, who is smiling from ear to ear.
“Oh, the Hunter?” she replies with a wink that only I can see.
“The one and only, sweet cheeks,” he replies with a confident swagger as he shakes her hand.
Madison laughs while I sigh.
“That wasn’t a compliment, you moron,” I declare with a grin, and Hunter looks at Madison, who nods, playing along with my ploy.
Hunter’s poise falters and he backtracks. “I’m not sure what he told you, but I can assure you, it’s all lies.”
Madison looks like she’s playfully observing him as she raises an eyebrow and replies, “I don’t think so. I think he went light on you, actually.”
“Oh yeah?” he rebukes.
“Oh yeah,” she confirms with a mischievous smile.
Hunter looks to be totally engaged by her and I shake my head, leaving them to it, as I have a feeling Madison can handle herself around my friend.
Stepping into the hallway, I quickly gather the pornographic evidence and toss them into a drawer as I enter my bedroom. I place Madison’s bag by my bed, and take a small breath, as the past twenty minutes have left me winded. The evening has not gone to plan, what with Juliet’s impromptu visit, and now Madison thinking I’m some sick porn collector. I can only hope it gets better from here on in.
As I hear Madison laughing in the kitchen, I quickly compose myself and head back out there because she is alone with Hunter, and God knows what he’ll say unsupervised.
“What did I miss?” I ask, attempting to appear casual.
Hunter looks incredibly proud of himself, while Madison is still chuckling.
“Madison and I share something in common,” he says smugly, and I look at Madison for confirmation.
She nods, her hand covering her mouth to contain her laughter.
“This I gotta hear,” I say, opening the fridge and grabbing three beers.
Passing Madison one, she accepts with a smile, and Hunter reaches for the other. However, I slap his hand away and shake my head. “I have a feeling I’ll be needing this,” I clarify, and Hunter seems to weigh up my comment for a second before nodding, obviously agreeing with me.“So, what on earth could you…”I point my bottle in Hunter’s direction. “Have you in common with Madison? I mean—”
But Madison cuts me off, clearing up my puzzlement. “We’ve both got a nickname for one another,” she says happily, taking a sip of beer.
“Oh?” I reply, as this cannot be good.
“Yup. He accidentally called me Cherry Pie.” The moment the words le
ave her lips, I blanch and internally visualize ripping off Hunter’s arms and beating him to death with them.
But I remain composed and arch an eyebrow. “Why ever would he do that?” I ask, glowering at Hunter, who laughs.
“Well, he said my top reminded him of cherry pies.”
I look down at her tight red tee, checking out her amazing rack along the way, and see the color is cherry pie-ish.
“How very observant of him,” I sarcastically reply, but I should be thankful he didn’t reveal the real reason behind her nickname.
“Yeah, but anyway, I have a little…quirk, I guess you could call it, where I use stupid nicknames for people, too. I’ve been doing it since I was little, ever since I nicknamed Mary ‘Lamb’.”
I nod, as I briefly remember her mentioning this during our texting marathon. We all have our little eccentricities, and this just happens to be Madison’s.
I’m afraid to ask what pet name she has given to Hunter, but I bite the bullet. “Let me guess, you’ve dubbed Hunter, ‘PITA’,” I say, and Madison raises an eyebrow, confused. “Pain in the ass,” I clarify, and she bursts out laughing.
“No,” she replies, still chuckling. “Debbie.” I almost spit out my beer.
Hunter cackles loudly and shrugs. “Hey, I like it. I’m totally down with being Debbie.”
“Yeah, you would,” Madison and I both reply at the same time, which sets Hunter off.
“Dix, I love this chick. Can we keep her?” He laughs, interlacing his fingers into praying hands, while Madison devilishly joins in with his laughter.
I still can’t believe we’re talking about porn in code, in my kitchen, with Madison. But I should have known, never underestimate this little…diavolo.
23
It’s Not You, it’s Me
DIXON
As Madison excuses herself to use the bathroom, Hunter lunges forward and pokes his finger into my chest.
“If you do not have sex with that girl, then I will.” I slap his hand away and dodge his pokey pointer before he decides to get another case of the crazies.
“Okay, whatever, Debbie,” I retort, rolling my eyes.
“Hey, only Maddy gets to call me that. I think she’s sweet on me,” he teases with a grin.
I can’t help but laugh because I think Hunter is the one who’s sweet on Madison.
After a few episodes of Dexter and a dozen beers, Hunter was looking at Madison with stars in his eyes. But I must admit, so was I.
The beers seemed to loosen her up, and as the night progressed, I saw her guard slowly slip and she appeared completely relaxed and at ease. She even laughed at Hunter’s ridiculous jokes, which shows just how relaxed she was.
It’s now midnight, and by Madison’s sleepy yawns and heavy eyes, I know she’s a little inebriated and tired, which is a blessing, as I’m hoping the minute her beautiful head hits the pillow, she’ll be out like a light. I don’t trust myself with her, plain and simple, and after seeing her so laid-back and getting along with Hunter, I’m beginning to like her even more, which is dangerous for the both of us.
“Dix, I’m going to tell you this once, and once only. You’re crazy if you let this one go. I’m actually jealous ’cause I want a Madison of my own,” he says, dead serious.
I pull back, stunned, as catching Hunter with his serious face on is a rare occurrence.
“Thank you, Dr. Phil. But I don’t have her, so technically, I can’t let her go. She has a boyfriend, remember?” I whisper, not wanting Madison to hear us.
“Oh, bullshit! I call her bluff. Not once has she mentioned Dario.”
“David,” I amend with a grin.
“Whatever,” he scoffs. “I see the way she looks at you. She’s hot for you, my friend.”
“She is not,” I say, brushing him off, but I’m actually half hoping that his words hold some truth.
As the night progressed, Madison seemed to edge closer and closer to me until we were sitting so close she casually leaned into me when tucking her bare feet beneath her.
“Don’t be a moron,” he scolds with a shake of his head. “You’re a smart man. You know this one is different. Stop denying it.”
“Okay, fine.” I sigh, raising my hands to shut him up. “So what if I do? I can’t force her to dump the primate. And besides, it’s been so long since I’ve, I don’t know, romanced a girl, I wouldn’t even know where to start,” I confess.
Hunter suddenly slaps the back of my head and I grunt on impact. “What the hell was that for?” I ask, rubbing the back of my skull.
“Romanced a girl? Seriously, what era are you living in? You say that shit to her and the only person you’ll be romancing is my grandma,” Hunter says, pulling a repulsed face.
“If there’s a point to this story, get to it,” I say, still rubbing my skull.
“Madison is not just a girl. She’ll call you out on all your bullshit ’cause she’s real. Whatever you’re doing is obviously working. She’s here now, isn’t she?” he questions, waiting for me to answer.
I nod because he’s right.
“Don’t fuck this one up, man, ’cause she’s special. I think I may be a little in love with her,” he confesses, waggling his eyebrows, and an unexpected wave of jealousy passes over me. “Ooh, I haven’t seen that look in a long, long time. It suits you.”
“What are you talking about? What look?” I ask, wanting to know if I’m really that obvious.
“The look of actually giving a shit. You’re not a whore, Dixon. Deep down, you’re a big, cuddly teddy bear who’s had all his stuffing ripped out by some sadistic little bitch. But piece by piece, you’re slowly getting put back together again, and you’re just waiting for the right girl to give you a big cuddle and make you whole again. Oh, and I’m not talking about only cuddling the good bits.” He playfully swoops forward to tickle my stomach. “Who’s a big, cuddly teddy? You are. Yes you are,” he coos, while I punch him in the nuts.
He wheezes before turning red, and I laugh. “That’s payback, you idiot. And by the way, that was the worst analogy ever. Please refrain from giving me a pep talk ever again.”
“I take it back,” he gasps, holding his junk. “You’re a homicidal teddy bear.”
“What’d I miss?” Madison asks, and raises an eyebrow when she sees Hunter doubled over, still holding his nuts.
“Oh, nothing,” I casually reply with a wave of my hand. Madison laughs as she takes a seat near me.
As she leans forward and innocently reaches for her beer, I see Hunter’s eyes widen in delight. He’s just been rewarded with a tiny glimpse of what she’s packing underneath that tight top, and he obviously likes what he’s seen. He subtly bites his knuckle while nodding his head, silently voicing his approval while I turn my eyes upward.
“I better get going,” he says, getting up and fake yawning to display his staged fatigue.
“Oh?” Madison says, her back instantly straightening, and I notice her poised composure slip.
I have no idea what that’s about, but she has brought to my attention the fact that Hunter probably shouldn’t be driving. “You can crash here. I mean, you’re in no state to drive.” I look at the empty beer bottles littering the coffee table.
“As much as I love you, Dix, I’m not sleeping with you,” he replies, shaking his head.
I laugh at his idiocy as I stand. “No, you fool, you can sleep on the sofa in here, or in the study.”
“Thank you for the offer, but I’m not one to impose,” he says with a grin, waving me off.
I scoff. “No, not at all.”
“Blow me.”
“You wish,” I quickly counter, and Madison chuckles at our usual banter.
“Cherry Pie, it was a pleasure meeting you,” Hunter says, grasping her hand and mischievously kissing the back of it.
“Likewise,” she replies, her cheeks stained a bright red.
“Talk tomorrow, Doc,” he says, and playfully jabs me in the arm.
“I’ll see you out,” I say, and we both commence walking to the door.
“Don’t be a stranger, Cherry Pie. I’ll see you soon,” Hunter says over his shoulder, while I basically shove him out the door.
“Goodnight, Hunter.”
“Don’t fuck this up,” he whispers, and leaves before I have a chance to reply.
I take a deep breath before shutting the door, and as I turn around, I see Madison clearing the table.
“Hey, leave that. I’ll do it in the morning.”
But she’s insistent and carries a handful of empty bottles into the kitchen, giving me a quick smile. “It’s fine, it’ll only take a minute.”
She suddenly looks incredibly nervous, and I have a feeling that’s got to do with the fact that we’re alone. I collect the rest of the empty bottles and join her in the kitchen, where she’s vigorously wiping down the countertop. I move around her and place the bottles into the recycling, and decide to wait for her to finish before I speak, as she looks to be deep in thought.
However, when she begins washing the empty chip bowls, I know she’s not going anywhere for a while. I decide to leave her to it because I know a pensive female when I see one, and like my mother, keeping busy seems to be Madison’s escapism.
I quietly exit and head to my en suite to get ready for bed. After I’m done brushing and flossing, I change into a pair of sweats and splash on some Aramis, because Madison commented earlier that she likes the scent. The moment I turn the light off in the en suite and step into the bedroom, I hear a stunned gasp. I look up to see Madison’s back.
“Madison?” I ask, confused. “Is everything all right?”
She takes a second before she replies, “Um, yes. I’m just, um, being silly.” She turns around, the bedside lamp illuminating her flushed cheeks.
I watch the way her eyes timidly swoop down my bare chest, and I now understand her actions—she’s shy. I was too busy thinking about what triggered the sudden mood change in her and completely forgot to slip on a tee. However, seeing as I usually sleep nude, she’s lucky I remembered the pants.
