Chapter Nineteen
MATT
Standing, I brush my hands nervously down my jeans and sigh. “Sorry it took so long. I just wanted to make sure it was the right thing to do.”
She draws her bottom lip in with her teeth, and I almost come on the spot.
“And was it the right thing to do?”
I chuckle. “I’ll let you know at the end of the date.”
“Good call.” She puts her hand out for me to shake, but I screw my face up and pull her into an embrace instead.
She leans into the hug, and she feels nice against me.
Her body conforms to mine, and we hold each other for just a moment before pulling away.
Madeline looks up at me, and her green eyes sparkle as she runs her hand down my arm, subtly copping a feel.
“So, Matt, I feel like I know a lot about you, and yet, I feel like there’s so much more to learn still,” she says as she walks to the other side of the booth and takes a seat.
She’s said nothing about who I am or the band.
Does she know?
“What do you want to know?” I ask.
She smiles, and it’s genuine. “You’re an entrepreneur. So what does that mean, exactly? Like, what do you dabble in?”
Raising my brow, I look at her. I mean, really, look. Trying to gauge whether she’s playing me, trying to egg me on as if she knows who I am but wants me to confirm it, or if she honestly has no idea.
I’m not sure how to play this.
“So, I, ah… dabble in music mainly. A little bit of philanthropy, but mostly music.”
Her eyes light up. “Oh, that’s so cool. You said you play bass guitar, right?”
I nod, and she smiles. “That’s great. I always wanted to learn an instrument, but honestly, I’m musically challenged. I can dance, though. I’m pretty good at moving my body,” she says, and I raise my brow at her.
“So, you’re a hostess, right?” I ask, and she sort of smiles, but it’s more like a grimace.
“I am. I’m looking at changing careers, though.
I really want to get into dance. That’s why I’m in LA, to try to make it as a backup dancer, but it’s a hard business to get into.
Everyone wants someone who’s willing to strip and show all their flesh, and I’m not sure I’m completely comfortable with that. ”
I mentally note that she’s a little prudish.
That goes in the tick column for the good-girl vibe I want in my woman.
She may look like a sexy siren, but inside, it seems she’s a good girl.
It’s the same vibe I was getting from her online as well.
Madeline believes in core values, and I like that about her.
“It’s good that you know what you want. I might be able to help you get into some video clips with clothing on. I’ll see what I can do,” I say, and she furrows her brows.
“You can do that?” she asks.
“I have a few contacts in the biz, being in the music industry.”
She tilts her head and purses her lips. “Are you in a band?”
I tense up slightly, simply nodding.
Her eyes light up, and she grins. “What’s your band called?”
Here we go…
“Recoil,” I reply in a somber tone.
She squints like she’s trying to think hard. It shocks me slightly, and I let out a small, stifled laugh as she shakes her head.
“So, it sounds familiar, but I honestly can’t say I know any of your songs. Are you very popular?” she asks, and I swallow hard, wondering again if she’s having a laugh or being serious, but the blank look on her face tells me all I need to know.
“Uhh… do you like rock music?” I ask, and she screws her face up.
“Oh, no, not really. I’m more of an R&B, sometimes pop girl. It’s easier to dance to. Rock is more just head-banging. Can’t really dance to that.”
I let out a bemused laugh and sit back in my seat, feeling more and more relaxed. “So if I were to say that I’m a little bit famous, would that scare you?”
She shrugs. “You’re not famous to me. You’re just Matt, my match Matt.
I don’t see you as any different. If you’re famous, that’s good for you, but it doesn’t affect who you are or how I see you, Matt.
Sure, it might affect our relationship and how we have to interact in public, but that’s a hurdle we can work with if it gets that far… right?” she asks.
My nerves settle even more.
She’s saying everything right.
I don’t know why I was so worried.
One bad experience like Jaci's doesn’t mean every experience will be terrible. Madeline is now proof of that.
Suddenly, I remember that when I accidentally messaged Madeline about meeting up, my phone beeped with a message, and I haven’t had a chance to check it.
I subtly slide my cell out to see that the message is from Alex.
I sigh and put my cell away, deciding to read it later.
She can wait until I’m done with Madeline.
“That means a lot to hear you say that, Madeline. I think this could be the start of something nice,” I state honestly, and she smiles wide, showing me her perfect teeth.
Damn, she is stunning.
“I think so, too. Okay, shall we have something to eat? I’m not sure what I feel like. Do you know what you want? Maybe…”
“Eggs Benedict,” we say in unison.
I wave to Tamika and glance sideways at Scott with a sly wink.
The rest of the date with Madeline went amazingly well—so much so that we decided to stay for lunch, turning the outing into an all-day event.
We talked, laughed, and got to know each other better until she eventually had to leave to get ready for work.
At one point, she casually mentioned noticing Scott sitting at his table all day, occasionally glancing our way.
She’s sharp, that’s for sure, and I couldn’t exactly deny it.
She guessed he was here with me, but to my relief, it didn’t bother her.
In fact, I think that’s when it hit her that I might actually be more famous than she initially thought.
Even then, she brushed it off like it wasn’t a big deal—a reaction that was more comforting than I’d expected.
By the time we were saying our goodbyes, I felt comfortable enough to ask her if she’d be willing to come to Danger’s wedding as my plus one.
It’s this weekend, and honestly, I’ve officially run out of time to ask anyone else.
To my surprise—and relief—she said yes. She admitted she’d be a little nervous about meeting everyone, but promised to be on her best behavior.
The way she said it, with that mix of sincerity and humor, made me smile.
She even said she was honored and genuinely excited for our official second date.
As I watched her leave, I couldn’t help but think about how much I enjoyed spending the day with her.
If all goes well at the wedding, I’m hoping I might convince her to come back to my place afterward.
I know it’s only our second date, but it would be nice to spend more time together, just the two of us, in a comfortable and private setting.
Scott and I walked her out the back, then around to the parking lot to her car, and I kissed her goodbye.
It wasn’t a passionate kiss, it wasn’t lust-filled, it wasn’t brimming with ecstasy, it was a first kiss—gentle, tender, and nice.
It was basically lips touching, no open mouth, and no tongue.
It was the definition of a good girl kiss.
It was what I expected from the woman I want on a first date.
She passed the test.
My somber mood is all but lifted as I watch Madeline drive off, and I turn, walking with Scott to our car.
“So, that went fucking well,” he cheers, looking down at his watch.
I smirk like a fucking giddy schoolboy. “Didn’t it, though? I have no idea how I lucked out, man. Did you see her?”
He chuckles while nodding. “Um… yep, I saw her. Matt, man, fuck.” His eyes bulge out of his head, accentuating his approval, and I chuckle knowingly.
Then it dawns on me, Alex’s message.
I always answer her right away, and her message has gone unanswered for hours.
“Shit,” I murmur and quickly pull out my cell as we reach the car and slide in.
I read the message and slump.
Alex: Can you come to the gallery? I wanna talk to you about something…
Fuck!
This was at like eight this morning, and it’s now close to her getting ready to come over for Taco Tuesday. She’s going to think I ignored her all day. I grimace and swipe my cell to dial her number. It rings a few times, and I think she isn’t going to answer when she finally does.
“Hey…” She doesn’t answer with her usual rhetoric or chirpy manner. She seems down, and I know that’s because of me.
“I’m a shit friend,” I blurt out, and she lets out a small laugh down the line.
“No denying that. Are you being held captive by Afghan Hounds?” she asks, and I furrow my brows.
“What? No. That’s so weird.”
“You say weird, I say creative. Can you imagine those long-coated pups with AK47s and headbands yelling at you to get on your knees and put your hands behind your head?” she asks with a slight chuckle.
“Are you drunk?”
“No, I’m always this weird, Matt. You used to like my weird.” She sighs.
Furrowing my brows, I swallow hard. “I still like your weird, Alex, but you watch too many Japanese cartoons. That sounds like something from one of them.”
She snorts. “True. Anyway, how can I help you, Matt?” she asks, and the low tone in her voice tells me something’s not all right with her, even with all the joking.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t get your message until now. I swear, I wasn’t ignoring you, Alex, I would never ignore you.”
“Okay,” is all she says.
Great, one-word answers.
My nerves are back, and my stomach is flipping in on itself. I want to be sick all over Scott’s car as he drives toward my house.
“I have a good excuse,” I say, wanting to defend my actions.
“It’s okay, Matt. I’ll talk to you tonight when I come over. Maybe, I’ll see.”
“Is everything okay?”
“I think so. I’m just, um… I’ll talk to you tonight, okay?”
Tensing up, I feel like this sounds serious.
Is she sick?
Is something wrong with her?
I can’t help myself, and it comes out before I can stop it. “Alex, are you sick?”