Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
RED ALERT. EMERGENCY. Someone go back and punch previous me–I don’t have any tattoos booked in the next few days.
I know. I KNOW. That means I don’t have an excuse to see Maddox.
I pace around my bedroom, yanking at my hair, pulling sharply at the roots.
What was I thinking?? Six months ago, I was a terrible wingman for myself when I planned a little staycation this weekend.
How could I do this? I won’t get to see those pretty dimples when he smiles.
Those two dimples hit me like a bus when we found Princess, and I’m pretty sure the world slowed in that moment because Maddox finally smiled, and it was one of the most beautiful smiles I’ve ever seen.
Now, it’s all I want to see over and over because every time Maddox smiles at me like that, it’s like that scared part of me that can still feel the beer splatter across my face and hear Dad’s words feels just a little better. A lot better, actually.
I’ll admit, this is not the first time I’ve crashed out about this, and yes, I have considered lying and just going to the tattoo parlor to hang out.
However, that then makes me imagine Logan beating some guy to a pulp.
A terrible person, so the beating isn’t the problem.
The problem is no aftercare. Isn’t there supposed to be pillow talk or something?
A little gift package that says, wrong-time-wrong-place-you’re-not-next-cause-we’ve-been-friends-for-years-I’m-also-not-a-murderer-you’re-being-dramatic.
Love, Logan. P.S. You and Maddox would make a cute couple.
In an effort to distract myself, I mowed down a bag of M I shouldn’t have left them unsheathed with no shoes.
My phone buzzes, and I’m on it like a mosquito on a sweaty arm in the summertime. It’s Maddox! He also felt the energy between us!
I open my texts to see it is not, in fact, Maddox. It’s my mom. Asking about whether I’m coming to her party tomorrow.
Holy freak, it’s like leaning in to smell a rose, and all you get is a rancid egg yolk fart. I almost threw my phone across the room.
No, Mom, I don’t want to come listen to you guilt-trip me about how I’m the worst son in the world and no one loves you enough. Not even for the cupcake bar she always sets up.
I start pacing, and Princess scuffles behind me, both of us marching from one side of the room to another. He’s probably following the blood trail from my toe like a shark, but can I really fault him? I also never stop until I get what I want.
Suddenly, I come to a stuttering stop, an idea hitting me so hard it takes my breath away.
Holy cannoli. This could work!! The more I think about it, the more my mood elevates, and suddenly I’m floating.
I could go to Mom’s party and pay Maddox to come along to watch Princess! Mom loves Princess, so that won’t be too weird. I’ll pay him so he can’t say no! This will be awesome!!
I grab my phone and shoot off a message.
Me: Wanna come smash some cupcakes with Princess and me?
The answer is almost immediate.
Maddox: What time?
I squeal and jump up and down.
All we need–and yes, we’re absolutely a we, he just doesn’t know it yet–is more time together. If I just show him how much love I have to offer, he’ll hear what I already know–we are meant to be together. And nothing can ever tear us apart.