Page 19 of Season's Schemings
“Thanks.” She flips through the pictures. “We look good together. Well, you look good for both of us.”
“C’mere.” I make a gimme motion so I can look at the pictures myself.
She’s smiling wide in all of them. Clearly a little intoxicated—you can tell by the flushed cheeks and slightly dazed expression—but she looks cute. Hot, even, with those damned sparkly green eyes and full pink lips. The tight tanktop she’s wearing definitely doesn’t hurt, either.
“You look good, Mads.” The words come out low, almost husky.
Her cheeks tint a deeper shade of red and she tilts her head at me. For a moment, her eyes clear and she looks totally lucid.
“You’re nicer than I thought you’d be,” she says.
“And you’re saner than I thought you’d be.”
This makes her smile turn wicked. “You mean, when you found me lurking in the men’s restroom like a lavatory Gollum and then ran away like a little hobbit?”
I sit up to my full height and loom over her. “Hey. Who you calling little?”
“You, Slater. ‘Coz the way you ran out of that bathroom, you looked like a frightened little girl.” She tilts her chin up at me in challenge. “I might’ve looked crazy, but you have, like, a foot and a hundred pounds on me. What was I going to do, bludgeon you to death with a toilet plunger?”
This girl, I tell you.
“Okay, okay. I have a confession.” I scrub a palm over my eyes, then down another gulp of my drink. I’m sure that the alcohol is the reason my lips are so loose right now, but somehow, I don’t really care. “I ran away because I thought I knew you.”
“What?”
“I thought you were, um, a woman I knew. And that you were there to see me.”
She’s silent for a good few moments, before sputtering. “So what I’m hearing is… you thought I was a woman you’d dated and I was stalking you in a public bathroom?”
I nod sheepishly. “I’m aware of how crazy that sounds.”
“How many women do you date that you could make that mistake?”
It’s a good question that I don’t have a good answer for. So, I shrug.
“Wow.” Maddie laughs and tosses back the rest of her drink. I mimic her. “And you ran away because you were scared. Of me.”
“Precisely.”
She wheezes with laughter and I give her a playful little shove. Her bare shoulder feels soft and warm. Small in my hand.
Oh, jeez. I’m at that handsy point of drunk, aren’t I? You know, when you have one too many and suddenly feel the need to invade other peoples’ personal space?
Yeesh.
I yank my hand back. “In my defense, I had a stalker once.”
She claps her hands in glee. “You did?!”
“Why are you so excited by that prospect?” The laugh that escapes me sounds far away. “Haven’t you ever listened to a true crime podcast?”
“YES! And now, I know someone that’s actually experienced it. Did they sneak into your house at night and cut a lock of your hair off while you were sleeping?”
“That was weirdly specific. And no. But she did sneak into our team locker room at my old training facility and fill my locker with her underwear.”
Maddie’s laughing so hard, she’s practically falling on the floor. “How terrifying for you.”
“I’m not joking. There was even a photo of her entire extended family with me photoshopped in.”