Chapter Six
Baxter
I don’t have to look back to know that Madison Fowler, of all people, is following me, her front door shutting with the snick of the lock.
I check anyway just as we reach the stairs, taking a quick peek over my shoulder.
My head snaps right back and I have to work so hard not to break out laughing when I catch her eyes firmly planted on my ass.
Even her head is tilted slightly to the left, her hat not quite covering her widening eyes.
A snort accidentally escapes, and I hear her inhale sharply before she starts coughing. Looking back over my shoulder, eyebrow raised, I ask, “You good?”
“Oh, yeah,” she wheezes before coughing again. “Love embarrassing myself to the nth degree this early in the morning. I live for it as much as I live to receive a bullet to the brain.”
This time I can’t help but laugh, enjoying the red that stains the apples of her cheeks. “This a regular occurrence?”
“Believe it or not, no. I’ve embarrassed myself plenty of times, but this? This is a first for me.” Her rasp is a little more prominent now, after no doubt choking on her spit. “And as you can see, I’m handling it spectacularly.”
“Got to say, you’re handling it better than most would,” I tell her honestly, my smile still in place, because apparently I can’t not smile around her. That shocks me, since I can barely tolerate people on a good day. There’s a reason I work with cars and not people. Cars aren’t complete fuckholes.
“Well, yeah, because I don’t usually get embarrassed easily.
It takes a lot to make me feel like a complete idiot.
Today… well, today is taking the freaking cake,” she quickly volleys, snorting and shaking her head.
It only makes me grin a little harder, my cheeks actually aching.
I don’t remember the last time I’ve found someone this funny.
Call me a liar if I’m not completely intrigued by the woman.
Trying to make her feel a little bit better, but unable to wipe the smile away, I tell her, “It really wasn’t as bad as you probably feel like it was.”
“Oh, no, I know it could have been worse. You four could have seen the whole thing happen like a live-action movie. I’m just lucky my apartment is high enough not to have any peeping Toms, otherwise I’d have actually died of mortification,” she replies so seriously that I snort again.
Never would I have thought this well-known photographer and entrepreneur would be so amusing.
Not that she’s even trying, but hell, I’ve never been wrong about a person.
She practically radiates good vibes, even when she’s embarrassed and having the day from hell.
She must be immune to these situations, or nearly immune, because a weaker person would have cried and locked themselves away for a week.
That only brings up the question: what the hell has this woman’s life been like if she’s still joking around and entertaining four men she doesn't know after they found her folded in a tub like a… well, a taco?
“Imagine if I had someone washing my windows this morning,” she whispers with a hint of horror.
“Oh hell, they would have had such an eyeful. Standing there, minding their own business while they squeegee their way through a wall of windows, only to bear witness to a blue-haired woman sailing on ice cubes through her apartment with no underwear.”
I lose it. The imagery. The goddamn imagery. Laughing so hard I can only wheeze, tears springing to my eyes, I have to hold on to the open front door of my apartment, my other hand holding my side while I bend at the waist.
“Damn, that ass,” I hear, before a distinct slap sends me reeling all over again.
Turning my tear-filled eyes on the woman who has no right making me laugh this hard, I find her with a palm on her forehead beneath her hat, shaking her head while her eyes close like she’s had enough of herself.
Dropping her hand, she huffs and shrugs her shoulders.
“Fucking A. Well, at least you know I’m digging those cheeks, huh?
Did someone say ‘ego boost’ first thing in the morning? ”
Without waiting for an invite, which is kind of fair since we barged into her apartment without one, she waltzes into the space still filled with boxes we’ve yet to unpack, leaving me to try to compose myself.
As soon as I’ve wrangled my laughter until only a grin remains, I tell her, “I’ll be two minutes.”
Maddie’s head bobs while she eyes the boxes, tilting her head to read the words on the sides Ryan had the good sense to write. I wouldn’t have labeled the boxes, that’s for sure. “Sure. Take your time. Fair warning, I have no concept of personal boundaries. That’s the only warning you’re getting.”
My lips twitch, but I leave her to it while I head to my room, wondering where the others suddenly went. We weren’t that far behind them.
Of course, that question is answered when I find all three of them standing in Caiden’s bedroom, with the man in question shutting the door as soon as I’m yanked into his room.
He peers down the hall before the door shuts as though I’ve just walked in on some top-secret government plan or some shit, and my eyebrows pull in with no small amount of confusion.
Rayne looks impassive as fuck, though his eyes spark just before the door shuts with a soft click of the latch.
Ryan is watching me like a hawk, unnervingly observant as ever, while Caid leans against the door and whisper-yells, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Uh, getting a ride to the ice rink to meet Brady and hand over the keys to his Jeep,” I answer obviously. “Why? The fuck is wrong with you? Why are you all gathered in here like there’s a house meeting going on?”
“Why didn’t you ask me for a ride?” Ryan questions with a twitch of his lips. What the hell is that about?
I give him a look as if to say it’s pretty clear why, stupid, and ask, “Why? You heading to the ice rink, too? What the hell is up with you three?”
“I was forced here,” Rayne butts in, turning his hat backward while shrugging his shoulders. I completely believe him, too, and I have no doubt it was Caiden who forced him.
Understanding dawns on me pretty quickly after that thought, and I turn a raised eyebrow on the gym freak in our merry band of misfits. “Got a crush, huh?”
“Shut up, you dick. These walls are thinner than tissue paper. She’ll hear you,” Caiden hisses under his breath before sticking his ear to the door, listening to whatever Maddie is doing in the living room. Weirdo.
“You didn’t deny it,” Ryan is quick to point out, grinning over at him now.
Caiden’s cheeks heat, but he rolls his eyes and owns it like he usually does.
“Have you seen that woman? I’ve been crushing on her since before I even knew she lived in the apartment above us.
My PR rep booked her for a session at the gym for advertisement images for the website weeks ago when I told him about her and how dope her pictures are. ”
Well, shit, he’s crushing enough to make diamonds. Why does that make me smile that little bit more? “So that’s why you’ve decided to conduct a meeting in your room? Want to know if I have a plan or some shit?”
He shrugs. “Well, do you?”
“Look, bro, I’m not going to stand around discussing whether or not I’ve made up some elaborate but entirely imaginary plan to get her alone.
She’s driving to The Arena, the exact place I need to get to.
I asked for a ride there, not a ride into her panties, all right?
So keep yours untwisted and let me get dressed.
I don’t want to waste more of the time she was willing to offer just so I could get some pants on,” I tell him, stupidly pointing at my crotch before turning and opening the door with a roll of my eyes.
Before I can get to my room and shut the door, I hear Caiden whisper-yell, “I just wanted to know if we had plans. Don’t think I didn’t see the looks you were giving her when she wasn’t looking.
I know you guys have hard-ons for her, so what are we going to do about it?
Rock, paper, scissors? Group plans? I’m down for that if you are. I’m open-minded, baby.”
I shut the door on him, fucking snickering because my best friend is acting like an idiot, and throw on a pair of jeans. I make a quick shirt change, grabbing a pair of socks and my boots from beside the door before I head out of my room. When I reach the living room, I pause and look around.
Maddie has her cell tucked between her ear and shoulder while she talks rapidly, carrying things from boxes and placing them around the room.
“We can go shopping tomorrow or something, Mom. I don’t have another session for another three days, so we can do lunch, shopping, get our nails done. The whole nine yards.”
She pauses, looking at the horrible dog ornament Ryan insisted on bringing with wide, horrified eyes and a tilt of her head before breaking out in that very same laughter that makes my breath catch. It’s full of soul, vibrant and beautiful.
Blinking rapidly, I look around the living room and start to smile.
While we’ve been huddled in Caiden’s room, Maddie has been busy unboxing our things for us.
Some might consider that an invasion of privacy, but given that we barged into her space and saw her at her worst, I consider it even.
Plus, she’s genuinely helping, unboxing and putting our things where she thinks they look best without really thinking about it, laughing at something else her mom says on the phone.
My chest tightens in appreciation, enjoying the image in front of me like it’s a normal thing and we didn’t just meet a famous photographer.
“Then we’ll go the day after, Mom. Don’t stress. I’m heading to the rink in five minutes, so I’ll be there for a few hours anyway. I’ll visit Dad tomorrow while you’re out,” she says, placing the hideous dog back in the now-empty box before hiding it behind the couch.