20. Madelyn
Kaitlin: I don’t think you should trust him, Maddie.
Kaitlin: After everything he did to you, you shouldn’t give him a second chance. It’s bullshit.
Kaitlin: Maddie, what the fuck, where are you?
Kaitlin: Why aren’t you texting me back?!
Kaitlin: I can see that you’re reading these, bitch. Don’t ignore me!
Kaitlin: If you don’t call me soon, I’m gonna go over there and drag you out of that apartment. Don’t make me do it, Maddie. I’m so fucking serious.
Me: Hey, I’m okay! I’m sorry I haven’t texted you back.
Miles had camera footage of the stalker and wanted me to see it.
Some other stuff happened too, I’ll talk to you about it later lol it’s crazy!
But Miles doesn’t think us staying in his apartment after the stalker broke in a bunch of times is safe so we’re going to be staying somewhere else. I’ll keep you updated.
I feel awful for leaving Kaitlin on read.
My phone’s been lighting up with messages from her all day, and I haven’t answered a single one.
She just keeps checking in anyway. I’ve never really had a friend who cared to keep trying, even when I’m not answering them, but Kaitlin isn’t the type of person to just give up.
It’s strange, because it’s not like I’ve never had someone like that before.
I had Austin once. He wasn’t just my best friend.
He was my safe space. My person. The one constant in a life that never seemed to stop falling apart.
If something good happened, he was the first person I would want to tell.
If something bad happened, he somehow always knew how to make it hurt a little less.
I miss him more than I’d ever let myself admit out loud.
But I don’t think I’ll get over him choosing his popular friends over me.
Ever since I left Alabama, I’ve tried not to think about him too much.
It’s easier that way, less painful. Especially after what almost happened between us.
But ever since I thought I saw him at that party, he's been at the forefront of my mind.
Except…he hasn't texted me since the night I ran. Did he just accept that I was gone? Did he decide the girl he has to drag around to parties and who didn’t like going out, wasn’t worth looking for? How does a lifetime of friendship end in complete silence?
In his defense, I haven’t tried texting him either.
At first, I was terrified. I thought if I heard his voice, he’d convince me to come home.
Then I moved in with my aunt, school started, and before I knew it, Miles happened, and a stalker not long after that.
My life has become one crisis after another until every day blurs into the next.
Every day without a text only made it harder for me to send my own. What if he doesn't want to hear from me? What if there is something else going on? What if he thinks the body in the house was mine?
Before I can even look up, Miles walks out of the bathroom, making his way quickly over to me, pulling me up off the couch and lifting me by my ass. I let out a startled squeal that quickly dissolves into laughter. My arms instinctively wrap around his neck, my fingers curling into his hair.
“What are you doing?”
He smiles at me, kissing me with an intensity that rolls off his tongue right onto my own, diving straight into my lower belly and filling me with heat at my core.
This man knows how to make me want him, my legs are now wrapped around his waist like that is where they were always meant to be.
With the briefs I borrowed earlier being so thin, I’m sure he can feel the heat radiating off of me.
“What? I can’t kiss my girl before packing?” he grins at me, and I feel my pulse quicken. His girl. I love the way he says it so matter of fact, like there’s not a doubt in his mind that I could be anything other than his.
I give him one more kiss before pulling away and dropping my forehead down to his. “You can, but if we’re really going to do this, I need to shower and I need real clothes. I can’t exactly leave in your boxers and t-shirt.”
He sets me down on the floor and I start to head over to the shower.
His hand comes down on my ass so fucking hard, I yelp at the sting.
I turn around, rubbing the sore spot through my shorts and try to glare at him.
But the sight of him doubled over with that stupid, gorgeous grin makes it impossible to stay annoyed.
“You’re such an asshole,” I mutter, fighting the smile tugging at my lips.
“Admit it, Princess, you loved it.” he teases.
I roll my eyes, even as heat creeps into my cheeks. Maybe I did. The sting lingers, warm and pleasantly sharp, and if I’m being completely honest…It’s turning me on.
More than that, though, I love this playful version of him. The one who laughs and looks at me like I’m the funniest person in the world. The one who isn't weighed down by anger or haunted by whatever darkness that lives inside his head.
If a sore ass is the price I have to pay to hear that laugh, I'll happily pay it every single time.
I make my way into the bathroom and twist the shower handle, steam immediately filling the small space.
I peel off the borrowed clothes and toss them into a neat pile on the floor before stepping beneath the spray.
A sigh slips from my lips the second the hot water kisses my skin.
I’ve always loved Miles’ bathroom, and his shower is absolutely incredible.
It’s ridiculously over the top compared to anything I’ve ever had.
I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s exactly what I imagine movie stars’ bathrooms look like.
A floor-to-ceiling glass wall encloses the shower, frosted along the bottom before gradually fading to crystal clear near the top.
The walls are covered in massive slabs of white streaked marble titles that also line the floor beneath my feet.
Above me, an oversized matte black rainfall showerhead is mounted directly into the ceiling, matching the sleek fixtures on the wall.
But my favorite part isn't the rainfall showerhead. No, it’s the detachable one mounted lower beside the controls, right next to the built in bench tucked into the corner.
I don't know who designed this bathroom, but I’m fully convinced it was a woman who knew exactly what she was doing with that particular upgrade.
As much as I appreciate the shower, I think my favorite part of the whole bathroom is the enormous clawfoot tub sitting on the opposite side of the room. It’s deep enough that I could probably disappear beneath the bubbles with a good book and stay there for hours.
One of these days I fully intend to take advantage of that tub. Preferably with Miles.
The thought alone sends a warmth rushing through me that has nothing to do with the hot water cascading over my skin.
Smiling to myself, I tip my head back, letting the steam wrap around me like a blanket. For the first time in what feels like forever, I allow myself to simply exist. No stalker, no running, no fear. Just the soothing sound of water and the heat easing the tension from my body.
As I turn to reach for the body wash, something catches my eye. Sitting neatly on the corner shelf are three brand new bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, their labels facing outward. Hanging from one of the bottles is a fluffy pink loofah.
A smile spreads across my face. Miles bought these for me. He noticed I didn’t have anything here, and instead of asking he just made sure I was taken care of. It’s such a small thing, but no one has ever done something like that for me before.
“Can I join you?”
I gasp softly and spin toward the doorway.
Miles leans against the door frame, one shoulder resting against it, his eyes already fixed on me through the fogged glass.
Heat immediately floods my cheeks, which is crazy since he’s already memorized every inch of me with his hands.
With his mouth. Yet somehow, standing beneath the shower with nowhere to hide, I suddenly feel really exposed.
My instinct is to duck behind the tub and disappear until my heart rate returns to normal. Instead, I hug my arms loosely around myself and meet his gaze, trying very hard to ignore the butterflies that have suddenly taken flight in my stomach.
I start to wash my hair, the suds from the shampoo falling to the ground as the water washes them away. I know when Miles enters behind me because I can feel his presence, but I keep my eyes shut as I continue to rinse the suds away, too afraid to open them and look over at him.
His arm snakes around my belly as he pulls me into him, his erection pressing firmly against my back, and I shiver at the feeling of it. He hisses at the temperature of the water as it touches his skin, but he doesn’t move us from under the spray.
“What kind of hell water do you shower in, woman?” he hisses, and I laugh because it’s true.
I shower in the hottest water I could possibly manage. I don’t know why, but I love the feeling of it, and I don’t feel clean unless my skin is burning red and practically blistering.
“If you can’t take the heat, get out of the shower.”
We both burst out laughing at my awful joke, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Not a chance. I can take the heat,” Miles whispers while gently nibbling my ear.
Miles’ hand slowly lowers down my belly, my breath hitching when I feel his fingers graze my sensitive clit.
His cock throbs against me, my mouth watering when I picture the size of it.
He turns me around and I gaze up at him.
His raven hair drenched in water dips over his eyes, but he does nothing to move it away.
I stare at him, completely mesmerized by his beauty.
Who knew a man could be this attractive? It’s as if his face was carved by the Gods themselves.