Chapter 12 Elliot
“We’re going back to my place.”
We reach Beatrice, as Madelina so annoyingly likes to call her car, and I attempt the challenging task of getting her into the passenger seat.
Trying to get anyone intoxicated into a vehicle is a feat in itself. Hell, I’ve been the victim more than once. I open the passenger door and use all my strength to get her in without injuring either one of us. Given that the Mini is a small car, it proves more difficult than I initially thought.
With her safely buckled in, I slide into the driver’s seat, embarking on the short journey to my houseboat. It’s the most sensible option since navigating a flight of stairs to my sister’s apartment would be a nightmare.
The roads leading to the lake are dead, with only one car passing by during the trip home. When the trees form a clearing, I turn and steadily take us along the bumpy road until we reach the dock. I pull the handbrake, then turn off the engine, giving myself a moment before taking her inside.
“Madelina,” I whisper. “We’re here.”
Her eyes remain closed, only a slight flutter and incoherent mumble.
With a deep, weary sigh, I swing open the car door and step out into the night.
I stretch my arms high above my head, relishing the release of tension in my muscles before needing to move her into the boat.
My gaze drifts lazily to the adjacent dock, where Ronald’s houseboat floats serenely.
A few warm lights flicker invitingly from within, which doesn’t surprise me in the slightest, since he enjoys reading Shakespeare’s verses—when he’s not cussing at Gordon.
I scoop Madelina up, surprised by how light she feels in my arms this time. With careful steps, I carry her across the threshold, then make the short journey toward the bedroom. Lowering my arms, I lay her gently onto my bed as she continues to sleep.
She’s still wearing her dress, and given the earlier incident, it would only be right for me to remove it rather than let her sleep in it.
But you will see her naked.
Okay, not completely naked, but close to it.
“Madelina,” I call softly, “I need to get you out of this dress. You have vomit on it, and that’s gross.”
She stirs, then mumbles, “I don’t like vomit, take it off.”
“Okay… I guess I’ll take that as a yes. For the record, I don’t think anyone likes vomit.”
The warmth of her skin lingers on my fingers as I remove her stained dress, and for a brief second, I relish in the delicate lace of her white bra covering her full tits.
Her nipples protrude beneath the see-through fabric, making this all the more trying.
The panties she wears match, a thin piece of string wrapped around her hips as she lies on her side.
This is fucking insanity—she’s your sister’s best friend.
A rush of heat floods through me, but I force myself to look away. You can’t go thinking things just because she’s almost naked in your bed.
Instead, I grab a T-shirt from my dresser to cover her. It’s my favorite bed shirt, but I place it on her anyway. Once she’s clothed, I sit back, watching her fall into a more profound slumber. She looks so peaceful, but her soft murmurs soon echo inside the small room.
“Myles… Myles… please don’t hate me,” she pleads in her dreams, a gentle snore punctuating her confession.
As I lie beside her, the lamp’s glow dims, and my mind wanders to Nicole.
What would I say to her if she were here? Would I be like Madelina, spilling my heart without a filter?
I walked away, even if Nicole pushed me, but will I end up just like Madelina? Hurt and regretting my actions?
I wanted more but… What is more?
More what?
Now you’re thinking stupid thoughts.
Eventually, the pull of sleep envelops me, and my mind is cleared once again of any lingering doubts.
Morning light filters through the curtained windows.
I turn to see Madelina still sprawled across my bed, blissfully unaware and utterly still. She’s somehow managed to kick off the sheets, and my shirt is pulled up and wrapped around her waist.
Once again, her panties are teasing me.
Quietly, I slip out and make my way to the bathroom for a quick shower. The temptation to rub one out proves hard to ignore as my dick stands tall, demanding attention, but I stand in complete and utter frustration and brush my teeth instead.
When I’m finished, I head to the kitchen to brew some coffee.
The boat is small, and as I stand beside the counter, looking out the window, the neighbor’s dog is lingering near the tree.
She’s minding her business, strolling around like she always does in the mornings while Ronald is busy on the boat.
The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the kitchen, so I pour some steaming hot coffee and then head back to the bedroom with two mugs in hand.
I set one down beside Madelina, taking a seat on the bench across from the bed, waiting for her to wake at her own pace. The hangover will be punishment enough; I don’t need to make it worse for her.
Slowly, she begins to stir, stretching her arms above her head. “Where am I?” she asks, her voice dry and rasping.
“My place.”
As she opens her eyes wide, the sliver of morning light spills in, forcing her to squint against its brightness. “Is this… a boat?”
“Yes,” I respond simply. “There’s a cup of coffee beside you. I suggest drinking it before it gets cold.”
Madelina rubs her face gently, her fingers brushing against unfamiliar fabric. Confusion flickers in her eyes as she realizes she’s not wearing the same clothes from the night before and, in fact, is wearing my T-shirt.
“Did we… have se—”
“No. There was an incident, and I figured you wouldn’t want to wake up smelling like a projectile vomited margarita.”
Madelina’s groan echoes in the room as she buries her face in her hands. “Don’t say the ‘M’ word, I beg of you,” she pleads with a croak in her voice. “Hold on. Did you see me naked?”
The corner of my lip quirks up. “Not naked. Will that make this less awkward for you?”
Instinctively, she folds her arms across her chest, a blush creeping up her neck. Hesitantly, she reaches for the mug, inhaling the strong blend of coffee. She takes a sip, satisfaction etching her face as her muscles relax.
She finally releases a long breath. “How much did you see?”
“You have a hot body. Don’t worry about it,” I tease.
A smile spreads across her face, but she remains quiet, lost in thought.
“You’re quiet today,” I break the stillness. “No more singing left in you?”
“I was singing?” She tilts her head in confusion, then her eyes widen in shock. “Oh God, I remember now, ‘Dancing Queen.’ ”
“You forgot some other classics. ‘Bohemian Rhapsody,’ a little bit of Dolly…” I trail off, trying to lighten her mood.
Madelina shrugs, her eyes suddenly downcast. “I made a fool of myself. I didn’t expect seeing Myles would hurt this much.
And you know what doesn’t make sense? I ended things.
Now he has some new chick and has moved on, and here I am…
hungover and feeling like death.” The pain is palpable in her voice.
It bothers me seeing her this way. Why? I have no fucking idea.
I let out a heavy sigh. “Fine, I’ll go to this wedding with you,” I say, a hint of regret already in my voice.
Her eyes widen, sparkling with a flicker of excitement that seems to lift her spirits, transforming her from a miserable shell into someone almost lively again. The coffee could be a contributing factor, I guess.
She jumps onto her knees. “You will?”
I manage to suppress a smirk as I add, “But I’ll only go with you on one condition.”
“What is it?”
“This needs to be convincing,” I tell her, holding her gaze. “If we’re playing this game, I want to win.”
Madelina raises her brows. “Win?”
“Exactly,” I say. “You just admitted he’s moved on while you’re nursing your wounds, am I right?”
“Yeah…”
“Guys don’t need to heal. They need to act. I hate to burst your bubble, but he’s sleeping with Lara. Men get over someone by getting under someone new. Or, sometimes, behind someone.”
“Argh, okay, I get it. No need for the details; you like doggy style. Carry on.”
I cock my head, amused by her bluntness. “If he thinks you’re single and grieving, seeing you with a date will definitely make him second-guess his choices and also stab him where it hurts… Revenge, for all intents and purposes.”
A smile breaks across her face, her eyes gleaming with newfound determination. “I like where you’re going with this. So we just have to pretend that last night was casual, but by the wedding, we’ll make it official. I can do this.”
“All right, you’ve got yourself a fake boyfriend for this wedding.”
She claps her hands in delight, leaping off the bed to wrap her arms around me in a hug.
It catches me off guard, but I don’t pull away, waiting patiently for her to release me.
My hands bunch the shirt she’s wearing, accidentally exposing her thighs.
And as we stand here inside my room, her body flush with mine, my heart beats fast, almost like an alarm warning me to step away.
When I pull back slowly, our eyes lock, and something passes between us.
This back-and-forth desire is giving me whiplash, blurring the boundaries set between us.
My imagination runs wild, wondering what it would be like to run my thumb against Madelina’s bottom lip, kiss her with ease, then lie her on my bed and slide inside her.
To watch her back arch as I enter her, hear her scream my name as I reach down and rub her clit until she can’t take it any longer and explodes all over me.
I swallow the lump caught in my throat and see her biting her lip while staring at my lips.
Quickly, I pull away, scratching the back of my neck. “Oh, one more thing,” I say casually, breaking the moment.
She pulls back, creating more distance between us. “What is it?”
I turn my back to her, heading toward the kitchen. “I totally saw your nipples. They never disappoint.”
“Perv!” Madelina laughs, and a moment later a cushion thuds against the back of my head.