Maddox
I was brushing my teeth when I heard her first groan.
It was loud enough to cut through the whirring buzz of my electric toothbrush. I paused mid-motion, foam gathering at the corner of my mouth as I listened.
Another groan filtered through to the bathroom.
Louder this time.
I quickly manoeuvred the toothbrush around my mouth to finish up, moving faster now that curiosity had taken hold.
Stella rarely made noises like that unless she was either extremely pleased with herself… or up to something.
I spat into the sink and rinsed off my brush before switching it off.
The sudden silence made the house feel strangely still.
Oh, I was definitely going to catch her in the act.
I set the toothbrush beside Stella’s on the counter.
Such a small thing, really—but I loved seeing her things in my space. Her hairbrush. Her perfume. The spare toothbrush she had first left here by accident and never taken home again.
Tonight had gone perfectly.
Better than I had hoped.
Watching Stella stand up to her parents had been like witnessing the final cut of a diseased umbilical cord. Brutal, maybe—but necessary.
And I couldn’t have been prouder of her.
Another exaggerated groan drifted from the bedroom.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and headed toward the bedroom, expecting to find her tangled in the sheets with one hand between her legs.
When I reached the bedroom, Stella wasn’t touching herself, quite the contrary—she lay in the middle of the bed, legs closed and arms stretched out like she was waiting to be pinned on a cross.
“Ughhhh,” she groaned loudly.
I nudged her foot.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Ugh. What’s wrong with the world?” she grumbled.
“Why don’t you tell me,” I said tugging my T-shirt off.
“Be desirable, but not too sexual. Be attractive, but not too thirsty. Be feminine, but not powerful. Why is it that women are always so fucked?”
“Ah, we can’t control society, but we can make a difference through healing.”
“Hmph. I think my mother needs some healing,” she said, opening one eye. “Are you going to impregnate me or what?”
“What?” I asked, stunned by her question.
“We need to create a different breed of people,” she said lifting her head off the pillow.
“Shouldn’t we get married first?” I asked, scratching my head to wonder how she had managed to flip the switch on me.
“Why would we need to get married?” she asked with a frown.
“Legal protection. What if something happened to me?”
She sat upright.
“Aren’t you adorable?” she said with a grin.
I shook my head.
“What about the pill?”
“I can stop tomorrow. We can practice tonight,” she said, patting the space beside her. “Unless you’re tired.”
I growled and dove onto the bed. Her shrieks of laughter filled our bedroom.
My perfect little filthy girl.
?
?
?
What a day at work. It had been appointment after appointment, each one bleeding into the next until my head felt stuffed with other people’s problems.
I set my case beside the door and shrugged out of my coat.
“Coo-eee, we’re in here!”
I froze.
My eyes slid shut slowly.
This couldn’t be happening to me.
The sound of her voice echoed through the house like a foghorn.
I felt the coffee in my stomach surge dangerously and swallowed hard.
“Get in here, Maddox. Mummy is here!”
Deep breaths.
Just breathe.
When I heard Stella giggle, my eyes snapped open.
Oh, hell no.
I marched down the hallway and found them in the kitchen.
My mother looked perfect, as always. Not a hair out of place. Stella, on the other hand, sat with her hair piled high on her head, loose strands falling around her face. There was a cheeky grin plastered across it, but I could worry about that later.
“For shame, Maddox. Is this how I raised you? Marianne saw you out at dinner with this gorgeous girl and came gossiping to me. And there I was—I didn’t have a clue.”
I stepped forward, kissing Stella’s cheek before leaning over to kiss my mother’s.
“A terrible tragedy for you, Mum,” I drawled.
“You didn’t tell me that your mum was a therapist too,” Stella said, her eyes sparkling mischievously.
“Mum, where’s Dad?”
He was the only person she ever listened to.
“Ugh, golfing trip. So boring. He’ll be back tomorrow,” she said, lifting her glass of wine.
“I hope you aren’t meddling,” I warned.
“Tosh. When have I ever meddled?”
“When have you not,” I muttered.
“You never mentioned how delightful your mum is,” Stella added sweetly.
“See? She gets me.”
“She did happen to mention when you were four years old you always held onto your—”
“Mother! May I have a word with you in the other room, please?”
She took her wine with her.
God only knew how much she’d already drunk and what she’d told Stella.
I closed the living room door behind us.
“What did you tell her?”
She shrugged, glancing around the room.
“Not much. Just some childhood stories.”
I winced.
“Teenage years?”
“God, no. I didn’t want to scare the poor girl away. You know, I like what you’ve done with the place.”
“That was Stella,” I muttered, dragging a hand through my hair.
“Are you sticking with this one?”
“I will if you don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“You are so rude, Maddox Jonathan Lexington,” she chided.
Stella could never know that I was more fucked up than she was. I’d make her insecurities look minuscule.
It had taken me decades to get to where I was.
Stella’s mother had repressed her.
Mine had treated me like a scientific project.
My mother. The sex therapist.
“So tell me,” she continued lightly. “Are you compatible? Stella was rather tight-lipped about it all.”
I raised my eyes to the heavens and silently thanked God.
My mother did not need encouragement.
“You will not analyse Stella or me, Mother. We discussed boundaries, remember?”
She sighed and took another sip of her wine.
“Oh honestly, Maddox, you’re so dramatic. I was simply asking a perfectly reasonable question.”
“You were interrogating her,” I corrected.
She waved her hand dismissively.
“Nonsense. I merely wanted to know whether you two were… compatible.”
My jaw tightened.
“Mum.”
She tilted her head at me, studying my face the way she used to when I was a teenager trying to lie about where I’d been all night.
Then she smiled.
“Oh dear,” she said lightly. “You’re embarrassed.”
“I am not embarrassed.”
“You are,” she said with delight. “You’ve gone all stiff in the shoulders. You used to do that whenever I asked about your… extracurricular activities.”
My stomach dropped.
“Mother.”
She leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
“You know, Stella did say you’re very attentive.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
This conversation needed to end immediately.
“Mum, if you value your continued presence in this house—”
“Oh relax,” she said, laughing softly. “I didn’t tell her about university.”
My eyes snapped open.
“You what?”
“Not the details,” she clarified quickly. “Just that you were… enthusiastic.”
My hand dragged down my face.
“Enthusiastic,” I repeated flatly.
“Yes,” she said, clearly enjoying herself far too much. “You always did have impressive stamina. I used to worry you’d exhaust the entire female population before you turned thirty.”
“Mother.”
“I mean, that poor girl from your second year—”
“Mother.”
The door behind me creaked open.
Of course it did.
Stella stood there, leaning casually against the frame with her arms folded, a slow smile spreading across her face.
Her eyes sparkled with pure trouble.
“Don’t stop on my account,” she said sweetly. “I’m learning so much.”
I closed my eyes.
Perfect.
Just perfect.
My mother beamed at her.
“Oh good! I was just telling Maddox how athletic he used to be.”
Stella’s eyebrows lifted.
“Used to be?” she asked.
I turned slowly toward my mother.
“If you finish that sentence,” I said calmly, “I will personally drive you to the train station tonight.”
She gasped.
“So hostile. Where did I go wrong raising you?”
“University apparently,” Stella murmured.
My mother laughed.
Stella laughed.
And I stood between them, realising with a sinking feeling that the two most dangerous women in my life had just discovered they liked each other.
God help me.