3. Madelyn
MADELYN
Living with Kayden for the past month has been more tolerable than I expected.
If we take into account that I’ve been doing my best to ignore him every single moment we share, even when he drives me home every day. And I don’t approach him at work unless I have to.
It’s been a learning process. Of course, having to live with a man again is new for me.
The first few days were tough. What with Kayden having to buy everything for his room, and forcing me to tag along with him to a department store.
I don’t get him; he’s not a kid. He’s older than me. He’s freaking twenty-six. He can do things by himself. I made the trip short and sweet. Smiling whenever he asked me if I liked something until he got tired of me saying yes to everything and decided on his own. I call that a win.
Once his room was ready, he spent most of his time there anyway, so it wasn’t difficult to pretend he didn’t exist. He was in and out constantly, rarely sitting down to eat a proper meal with me, even if I did the decent sisterly thing and cooked for him.
I understand, being a teacher is a lot. And Kayden isn’t used to putting in so much work.
I also had to adjust some things inside the house.
For starters, I don’t leave my underwear drying in the bathroom anymore, or in the living room.
I learned that the hard way—after Kayden went in for a shower one of the first days he was here, and came out with a thong swirling around his finger and an evil smile. The only sexy underwear I own, and he had to find it.
I don’t forget my sex toys on the sofa anymore, either. Better safe than sorry.
And most importantly, I have started taking my diary to school with me.
Always in my handbag or in my desk.
I thought it’d be okay.
I seldom leave my desk.
And now, I’m hunched by it, opening and closing every single drawer in hopes that maybe, just maybe, I put the diary there and forgot about it.
Oh, God. This is not happening.
Chest rising, chest falling. Inhale, exhale. Absolutely freaking not.
I did not just lose my diary at school.
I did not.
Where the hell did I put it?
I thought nothing would top me having to share an apartment with Kayden, but this is the stuff of nightmares.
I crouch down and inspect the classroom floor.
Nothing. Nada.
Fuck.
I’m sooo fucked. Even worse—I’m about to get fired.
If I don’t find my journal, and the principal happens to stumble upon it, I’m dead.
I can’t imagine his face, wrinkled under the mustache and beard, reading line by line of its contents.
“I need to stop bringing things to work.”
“It would make things easier, of course.” Kayden’s voice is low and sarcastic, as usual, with a tint of something sinister. He is leaning against the door, wearing black jeans and a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves.
His almost ink-black hair is tousled. He dresses way too formal for a P.E teacher sometimes. Alternating between T-shirts and sweats, and slacks and shirts.
“What did you lose this time, Little Demon?” he asks.
“Who said I lost anything?” I try to mask my desperation as I straighten myself and curl a piece of my long brown hair around my finger.
“Unless you’re just trying to get fired? I don’t see why else you would be crouching around and flashing your underwear to the whole school.”
He’s showing his true colors again. I expected nothing less from Kayden.
First impressions can be tricky, and his sure was.
“I’m not flashing anything. My skirt is long and proper for work.” I attempt to iron it with my hands, realizing it slid up my legs as I bent down under the desk, and it’s almost a mini-skirt.
Goddammit.
Kayden throws his head back with a laugh that puts Lucifer to shame.
Thankfully, our time together at school is limited. As the P.E. teacher and hockey coach, he divides his time between the gym, the school yard outside, and his office. Unlike me, teaching English for a perfect eight hours indoors, lost in pages of books.
My favorite kind of reality.
“So, what did you lose?” he insists.
“I told you. I didn’t lose anything.”
I bite my lip. There is no way in hell I’m telling him.
“Can’t help you find it unless you tell me.”
I sigh. “You’re one of those guys who doesn’t take no for an answer, aren’t you?”
“You would know, little sister.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You know what it means. If I want something, I get it.”
His gaze is fixed on mine. He’s trying to get under my skin, reminding me of our shared history. He tried to get me the day he showed up in my life after years of absence, and now he’s doing it again.
I dart my gaze away. I’m not having it.
“I’m a go-getter,” he says.
“I’m all for you being a go-getter. As long as you respect boundaries and keep out of my sight.”
I try to push past him. I need to get out of the room.
It’s become useless now that he’s occupying it, and I know I won’t find what I’m looking for here.
He frowns. He doesn’t like that I’m outsmarting him at his own game, but I’ve had enough time to practice while he was absent. He wasn’t here to cloud my mind.
“I don’t have time for you, Kayden. Move.”
He blocks me with one arm stretched toward the door frame. My heart races even though it shouldn’t.
I can almost breathe his air.
No. I’m not doing this.
“Stop bullying me,” I burst out.
His arm’s still firm in place.
Kayden’s way too used to this. Having me at his mercy. Doing whatever he wants with me.
The difference between past Maddy and present Maddy is that the me from now doesn’t take bullshit anymore. She doesn’t react on instinct. She knows what’s best for her.
I clench my teeth. I can barely reach him with my five foot two against his six two, but I stand on my tiptoes and spit it out.
“It may have been amusing to you when I was sixteen, and even eighteen, Kayden. But I’m twenty-five now. I’m a fucking adult. And I won’t tolerate your bullshit. My break time is almost over. Now, move.” I puff out my chest. “I’m busy.”
“Fineee. Geez. Chill out, Maddy.” He steps back, opening the way with a forced smile. “Have a good day.”
I hiss under my breath as I escape him, rushing through the halls.
Back in the teachers’ lounge, I pretend to be okay as I wave to Hannah who’s sitting at our usual table.
I’m so on edge from our previous confrontation and the fact that I lost my journal and I haven’t found it yet, that I forgot to bring my lunch box with me.
Crap. I’m going to starve for the rest of the day.
There’s no way on earth I’m going back to my classroom and risk crossing Kayden again.
Coffee will do.
I probably shouldn’t eat anyway. The anxiety of not having my diary will force me to eject any solids.
What I’ve written in that journal…is forbidden. No one can know about it.
“How’s your day going so far, Ms. A’gosto?” An older co-worker, Mr. Broadsmith, our history teacher, asks. Cornering me by the coffee machine, he stands so close that I can smell the onions on his breath. “You look nervous.”
“Oh.” I compose myself. “I’m okay, it’s the usual. Lack of sleep, energetic kids.”
Inserting a cup in the opening of the machine, I press the button for the espresso and proceed to make my coffee, hoping he’ll get my hint and leave me alone.
It’s no lie that students can be a lot to handle sometimes, but they’re the least of my problems right now.
“You are still young and haven’t been working here long enough. You’ll get used to them. Maybe I can give you a few pointers sometime.” Mr. Broadsmith smiles.
I grab my cup and hold myself from running away, from not being polite. Even if he stinks and this conversation is out of place, I shouldn’t show it. I can’t afford to create tension between other coworkers and me.
“S-sure.”
“What a day. I need some coffee. Excuse me.” Hannah, my hero, comes to my rescue, stretching her cup between us.
Mr. Creep moves aside.
“Thank God you’re here,” I whisper to her as she fills her coffee. “Thank you.”
Once she gets her cup back, she presses her free hand to my shoulder, and we walk away.
“Mr. Broadsmith is a bit of a creep. He tried it on me, too, a few months ago. The whole, ‘You haven’t been here long enough. Maybe I can give you some pointers sometime.’ Excuse me, sir?
I’ve been working here for four years. I’d say that’s long enough.
It’s not my fault you’re like a hundred years old and beat us all.
” She sighs as we take our usual seats. “He’s so desperate for pussy it’s not even funny. ”
“I don’t know why.” I take a sip of my coffee. “It’s easy to adopt a cat. I can recommend some animal shelters if he asks.”
Hannah laughs at my lame attempt at a joke.
“Girl, you should be a comedian.”
I shrug, her enthusiastic response lightening up my mood a bit.
“Where’s your lunch?”
“I’m not hungry,” I lie. “I’m just here for the coffee.”
“Then you can have mine, too. God knows we need it.” She hands me her cup and retrieves her lunch box from the table.
“Thanks.”
“So, how’s the day really going so far? Any gossip you can fill me in on? Seen Kayden around?”
I roll my eyes.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
I take another sip of my coffee. “Between him and Mr. Creep here, I’m having the time of my life.”
“I don’t know what you’re complaining about. I’d love to have as many options as you.”
I scream-laugh and nudge her, finishing up my cup of coffee and rushing to drink the second one.
I can’t stay much longer, as much as I enjoy my and Hannah’s chit-chats.
I have no time to waste. My freaking journal must be found, or the whole world will know the bare truth about me. I wouldn’t want anyone in my wildest dreams to find it.
Least of all Kayden.
Because the journal is the same wine-colored notebook he gave me on my eighteenth birthday.
The one where I wrote all my frustrated sexual thoughts about him when our relationship hit rock bottom.
All my biggest kinks and darkest, fucked up fantasies. Scenarios that never happened. I got a little creative. Set my imagination free.
If he finds it—he’ll have a feast.
It’ll be the death of me.