Chapter 19
Maddy
I collapse into the car, and I’m in a daze. Jett whispers something to Bryson, and then the privacy window goes up. His hands, covered with silver skull rings with diamond eyes, grip my hips like he’s got proof of ownership over me in the glove box.
“Why was that so much fun, reading all the filthy things people are thinking about you, Baby?”
“Because all those raunchy comments don’t mean anything when you’re the one who gets to have me. Reading the tweets about you was like picking my own brain. Do you know how many people would kill to be on a date with you right now?”
“I don’t want them, I want you. And I don’t even know how many people would fight me for a chance to be with you, Mads. Watching you light up talking about your show, the camera absolutely eating you up, you’re a fucking star, you know that?”
“You are. And it was fun, but we pulled a Mum and Dad and did an overshare in an interview! On our first date! Shit, that was so them of us.”
“It’s adorable you think I’m gonna play it cool in public, Mads, but I’ve waited long enough to have you. I’m gonna make sure every person we encounter today knows who you’re with and how I feel about you.”
My barely stitched back together heart pounds against fresh sutures, my brain is nothing but tumbleweeds and dust, and I choke on air.
I try to retrieve my train of thought, find some shred I can turn into a sentence instead of addressing what he’s just said.
“Did we basically just … tell the whole internet that we’re fucking? ”
Jett laughs. “Yeah, ironic, right? Haven’t even seen you naked yet.”
“I mean, we’ll have fucked by the time they post it next week.” God, every sentence I say sounds dumber than the last.
Jett smirks and grabs a bottle of champagne on ice that wasn’t in here before. “Is that so? What if I make you really work for it?”
I huff. “You wouldn’t make some random hot girl waiting for you after a show work for it!” He pops the bottle and pours me a glass that I down immediately.
“You’re not some random girl, Baby, and you know that. I call you what your family calls you. Your parents asked me to call them Mum and Dad. You think I’m going to treat you like a random fit bird and fuck you senseless and never speak to you again?”
“No … and I very much appreciate that. But I wanna be fucked senseless.” I pout. “I’m a fit bird, aren’t I?”
“Fuck, Baby, that’s the most ridiculous question you’ve ever asked me. And I don’t have to even pull my dick out to make you senseless, boneless, and gasping for more.”
He does this stupid, insane wiggling thing with his tongue out that he does on stage, and god damn if I don’t have the same reaction his fangirls do. I climb onto his lap with my now refilled glass and clink it against his.
“You mean, right now?”
“Cheers.” We down round two. “Later, Baby. I’m taking you out several places before later happens, and if I make you look like I did earlier just from a kiss and someone starts snapping pictures …
again, Lola will murder me. You don’t want to look all smeared where we're going next or at dinner, we’re going to one of your favourite places. ”
I hope it’s Nobu. God, I’m hungry.
“You won’t even kiss me? Jett, that’s torture!”
He bites his lip. “Hmm … the best I can offer is … ride my lap while I kiss your neck.” He drags his teeth over my carotid artery, and I push my needy core into his cock as it strains against my leather.
“You’re edging me, aren’t you? That’s your kink, isn’t it?” I groan.
“I have lots of kinks, and that one doesn’t even make the top ten, Baby. But I’m enjoying learning yours.” He rests his hand on my throat, “You say you hate to be babied, but I don’t think that applies to me, when we’re alone. You want to be Daddy’s very good girl.”
“I-I might, but you know I’m usually a brat, and I think that term only works for men over thirty.” Did he just say top ten?
“Baby, your chest is heaving. Your pulse went absolutely mad when I said that. Your body doesn’t lie, darling.”
I change the subject, “Please.” I tug desperately at the leather just above the button and zipper. “Just let me see it, just let me touch it.”
“Later, Baby,” he says again, practically purring, “but I will tell you one thing about it, maybe two.”
“Fine,” I whine, pushing my crotch against his over and over like I’m possessed.
“It.” He does that wicked grin. “He. He has a name.”
He bucks his hips into mine, making me moan so loud Bryson is probably blushing. “And?”
“And his name is Celtic, meaning tall and handsome. His name is Keane.”
I nod frantically, “I already like Keane. And what’s the other secret about him?” I choke out between whimpers.
“He’s pierced.”
“Oh fuck,” I gasp as I feel the car pulling up at our first destination. Oh, he knew that would get me keyed up.
I pout and he grins with pride. Little fucker.
We put our Ray-Bans on, and he helps me out of the car. I stop pouting.
“During dinner, the night we met, I asked you what your favourite thing in the world was. You remember what you said?”
Even if I didn’t remember or like them anymore, looking up at this place, the answer would be pretty obvious. “Horror movies. Aw, you remembered.”
“I’ve never forgotten anything about you, Mads. I collected everything I learned. You like?”
The horror-themed coffee shop is covered with all my favorite horror movie monsters, how could I not? “Of course.”
He holds the door. “You need caffeine, I need caffeine, you need a muffin covered in strawberry blood and a Carrie White Mocha. Don’t you, darling?”
He needs to stop being so sweet and caring and full of Stephen King references, or I’m going to fucking fall for him. Jesus Christ. I nod, and his hand on my back feels like all the security I need. I’m. So. Fucked.
The shop has floor-to-ceiling horror murals and memorabilia everywhere. I’m obsessed. I gasp at the technicolour menu, which includes over-the-top mochas named after Frankenstein, with pistachio foam to make them green, and butterscotch lattes named after my favorite final girls. “It’s so cute!”
“Thank you.” Grins the equally cute cashier with the lip ring, who is also the barista.
He bats his lashes at Jett, looking at him like he’s walking, talking sex personified. Because he is.
No one else is in here and I wonder if Jett planned that or if no one else drinks creepy coffees at three in the afternoon.
“You only drink tea,” I say absent-mindedly, looking for those options.
“You’ve been collecting, too, haven’t you, Mads?”
I nod like that’s obvious. “Oh! I know what you drank last summer! That’s so cute. Do you drink teas like that or strictly Yorkshire?”
He narrows his eyes at the menu. “Wild berry dragon fruit energy infused? Oh god, that’s sugary crack, not tea!”
His eyes land on the barista, who looks like he might pass out from the eye contact alone, and I feel that in my soul. “Fuck it, I know it’s just you in here working, man … But can we try everything? One of every drink and one of every pastry?”
“Sure, the other barista is just messing around on TikTok, I’ll go grab him … Can I get a selfie first?”
“Of course, mate!” Jett grabs the barista’s phone and snaps several of the three of us.
He leads me to a table away from the front window. I lean in and whisper, “Why do I get the distinct feeling I’ll be cropped out?”
Jett just laughs quietly. “I have that effect on gay boys, that’s just a fact. Oh, why are you looking at me like that? You’re curious, aren’t you? What, you’ve never slept with a girl?”
I shake my head, “I’ve never even been with a man that didn’t look like he was birthed by Princess Diana. So … when you had a boy in your bed, you were a … top?”
“Of course, darling. Does that bother you?”
I grab a colorful little drink menu card and start fanning myself with it. “Yeah, bothered like hot and bothered.”
“Oh yeah? Good to know, darling, you’re so sexy with your cheeks pink like that. And I’m even happier than Dad that you’re out of your princely blonde knobhead phase. He did … make me promise not to fuck you tonight.”
“Jesus Christ! That’s it, I need to move out!”
“They care about you in like, the most extreme way I’ve ever seen, Baby. It’s cute you’ve stayed with them all this time.”
“It doesn’t feel cute right now,” I admit.
“You can stay at mine, whenever you want. Don’t rush any decisions today, yeah? I’m sorry, I won’t bring them up again.”
“I won’t bring them up either, ugh!” I sigh, perking up as the two adorable emo baristas begin bringing the most elaborate monster coffee and energy tea monstrosities to our table.
“Thank you.” I smile at them. The one watching TikTok videos must’ve seen ours because he turns into a human heart-eye emoji when he looks at us.
“I’m bringing you the special bat cupcakes I made this morning to go along with the bat swimsuits you two were wearing. I love the vibe!” the barista turned baker says, and now I’m truly smiling, so I snap a photo of Jett with both of them, and it makes my heart skip.
“Oh, yes, please! I’ve been too lovesick, I mean busy, to eat much the last few days and I really need sugar.”
That garners a huge, throaty laugh from Jett and a shit eating grin from the baker.
I think that makes him happy; his pastries must get rejected often by these Hollywood types always trying to be stick thin, but it’s exactly what I need right now.
“Girl, say no more!” He peers at Jett like he’s the delectable dessert before disappearing into the back.
I hold the cup of iced purple tea, complete with edible glitter swirling around inside, up to Jett. “That is not fucking tea!” He laughs, but I make him try it. He grimaces, then checks to make sure the baristas aren’t near, “I don’t even think that’s fit for human consumption!”
I laugh and try it. “Better than the energy drinks Jude’s addicted to! Shit, I wasn’t supposed to mention—”
Pastries arrive, and Jett picks up the closest one and presses it to my lips, so I stop talking, and I am just as grateful for that as I am for the sugar.
Mine was getting dangerously low, I could tell.
My eyes roll back in my head as the adorable cake shaped like my favorite creepy Sam from Trick ‘r Treat explodes with pumpkin and cream cheese insanity in my mouth. I moan and hope only Jett heard.
Jett licks sparkly orange ‘whipped scream’ off a drink with his eyes trained on me.
“Ya know, I wasn’t jealous reading those tweets, but I’m very jealous of whatever the hell you just put in your mouth.
I want to be the one making your eyes do that.
” He checks his phone. “In like six more hours. Fuck.”