13. Maddy
MADDY
“Mom, how did you really know?”
I don’t want to hear the fairy tale version of her love story. I want to know what she felt when she met Dad. How did she know that he was the one? That she was in love with him?
And how did it happen again with Lucas?
“I just…knew.”
We’re in her room, the one she shares with Lucas on the first floor. She’s sitting in front of the mirror by the dresser, straightening her short blonde hair with a flat iron.
Ugh, that’s…not helpful at all. “There has to be more than that?”
“There was more than that, honey.” Mom grabs another one of her curls and slides the straightener along it.
“They were incredibly kind and caring, and they said all the right things. In other words, they treated me right.” She smiles at the mirror, satisfied.
“Money was a factor in my last decision, too, of course. His deep pocket sure helped.”
I sit on her bed and sigh. “Of course.”
“You asked me how I really knew. I just knew. It’s not the butterflies in your belly, but a feeling you can’t explain. You’ll know, too, when that moment comes.”
“Great.”
“I don’t know why you’re asking me this, Maddy. I’m not the best at giving love advice. Sure, I got lucky with Lucas, but your father was nothing but a rocky road.”
A rocky road sounds more like what I have with Kayden.
Which is why I’m sitting here asking my mother ridiculous questions I could have asked Jordan. But Jordan isn’t married. She hasn’t been through life like Mom has.
I wish I understood these feelings I’m having whenever I’m near Kayden better.
I know it’s wrong. I don’t even want to think about the nausea swirling up inside me with the image of Kayden being pleasured by someone else. The rage that made me scratch my own arms. I can’t believe I saw that.
It’s been over a week, and it’s still carved in my mind.
A creeping thought has been haunting me, too. What if I were that girl? What if I were the one making Kayden feel that way?
That’s why I end up turning the notebook he gave me into a naughty thoughts diary, a journal documenting my personal fantasies. To let it all out, ease my mind.
Otherwise, I won’t be able to function. The images plague my mind way too often. Writing them out, as if they were sort of a story, as Kayden once suggested, has been helping a lot.
“Where’s the curiosity coming from, honey?” Mom asks, bringing me back to reality. She moves on to apply some makeup. “Is there…someone special in your life?”
I jerk back. “N-no.”
Only my bully of a stepbrother haunting my dreams.
“I-I want to be prepared if the moment comes.”
“When the moment comes, not if. You’ll fall in love someday, honey,” she reassures me. “But you don’t need to be prepared. That’s the beauty of it.” Mom smiles, applying a light peach lipstick onto her lips. “Love takes you by surprise and steals your breath away.”
“Okay, Shakespeare.” I bring my hands up in mock surrender. I think I’m done with this conversation, and I get off the bed. “Don’t go all poetic on me.”
Mom giggles, finishing her look with some mascara. “You’ll see.”
***
Kayden’s footsteps mimic those of bigfoot, so loud and clear that even though my room’s on the second floor, I can hear him. I’m lying in bed, reading my smutty bedtime story, staring at my phone. Almost midnight.
Kayden has been busy, out of the house since dropping me off from school.
I need to talk to him. We have to exchange numbers. We should have done so a long time ago. It would have saved me a lot of trouble. I could have avoided that car scene from being burned into my memory.
But I don’t want to seem too eager, so I wait a few minutes for him to settle first.
Okay, I should be alright now.
I leave my room, and he’s walking up the stairs. He doesn’t even look at me, beelining to the bathroom with a towel over his shoulder. It’s the closest door to the top of the staircase, while my room is farther away, so it makes sense he didn’t see me come out.
The sound of streaming water reassures me he’s taking a shower.
Great. More waiting.
I go back into my room, and debate whether to write him a note and stick it on his door or use the red puck.
We have a designated area for it now—downstairs in our home library, on the bookshelf closest to the door, so whoever wants to use it can find it easily.
We discussed it during dinner one day, one of our longest interactions before we started college.
No one has taken it out since then—it should be there.
I decide the puck’s the better option.
I make my way to the library and pick it up. I’m about to leave it by the door of his bedroom, but decide it’d be better to rest it beside the bathroom instead. That way, he’ll see it right away.
I’m crouching by the bathroom door, red puck still in hand, when I hear it. Mixed in the sounds of water hitting the floor. A moan.
Leaving the puck on the floor, I stand up. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I lean closer to the wooden door, my ear pressed against it.
What the hell am I doing?
Another quiet moan, this time resembling more of a groan.
Is that…skin slapping?
My eyes widen, and a hand flies to my mouth.
Is Kayden…jerking off?
God. There are two bathrooms in the house, and he has to come upstairs to the one near my room to do it?
A pressure forms between my legs, and my heart thrums in my throat, my own body betraying my annoyance.
I shouldn’t be listening to this. I should get away as fast as possible.
Yet, I can’t help myself. Something inside me draws me closer. My ear is glued to the door.
What is wrong with me?
“Fuck, yes,” he whispers, his breath ragged.
I bring a hand to my chest, the tenderness in my body becoming evident as my fingers brush my nipple.
Closing my eyes, I imagine being there with Kayden, under the scorching hot stream of water.
My hand trails down my stomach and slips into my pajama pants. I massage my folds over my panties, gnawing at my lip. His moans fill the background, and a delicious sensation overpowers me as I draw circles over the fabric of my underwear with my fingers. God.
I shouldn’t do this. Not while hearing Kayden moaning on the other side.
A fuck, slips out of his lips again. Along with a That’s it, baby, and I press my thighs together.
My eyes are still closed, and I tug my underwear to the side, eager to feel my wetness.
That’s when a bump startles me. I’m leaning against the door, from the side, and accidentally bumped my temple against it.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.
Taking my hand out of my panties, I rush to my room.
There are so many reasons why this is bad.
For starters, Kayden will know I was there, listening to him like a pervert.
Plus, I left the puck beside the door—proof.
The other thing is I’m incredibly horny now.
My heartbeat’s racing in my chest, and my pussy’s pulsating, too.
I wait a few moments in my room, hoping and praying he didn’t notice me. Once I’m sure he isn’t coming out to get me—I pick up my diary, a pen and head out to the attic.