Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
He nods. “I know what you mean.”
I blink a few times before speaking. “So… Good night, then.”
“Good night.” He hovers his key card over the door and opens it.
And I should go back into my room, close the door behind me.
But I don’t.
I stand there.
He opens the door, and he closes it, but just as it’s about to click, he opens it again. “Maddie?”
“Yeah?”
“I…don’t want to be alone.”
I scratch my arm. “Neither do I, Dave, but I think maybe it’s better if we are.”
“There’s so much going through my head right now.”
“I know,” I say. “Me too.”
He breathes out slowly. “Maybe we could just…hold each other.”
This is Dave Simpson. The last Rake-a-teer standing. And he wants to hold me?
He really is shaken up.
“Do you think that’s wise?”
He scoffs. “For Christ’s sake, Madeline, I don’t know what the hell is wise or not.”
I cock my head. “Madeline?”
“Seemed like a Madeline moment.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I’ve just been thinking, my whole life is just…”
“What the hell are you talking about, Dave?”
He sighs. “Just come in with me. Or let me come in with you. We don’t have to do anything, I promise. That’s not what this is about.”
Does that mean he doesn’t want to have sex with me? Or does it mean that he does want to, but he’s not sure I want it? Or he’s not sure it’s the right thing?
I’m clueless.
“Then what is it about, David?”
He smiles then. “Tit for tat.”
“Well, you called me Madeline.”
“Madeline is a beautiful name. It suits you.”
“And David is a…biblical name.”
He chuckles. “My mom and dad love it. Except Mom wanted to name me Bryce Junior, but Dad didn’t think that would be fair because Henry’s older than I am. So then Mom wanted Bryce for my middle name, but then Dad decided he didn’t want to use the name his derelict father had given him in any way, so they settled on Steel for my middle name. Then they had to come up with the first name. David was the only one they both liked.”
I didn’t ask for a dissertation, but I know he’s just stalling.
Finally I pull my door open. “Come on in.”
He walks through the door. It’s still dark in my room because I never put the light on. I didn’t want to wake Brianna. I click it on now, my eyes already adjusted because of the hallway.
“You look gorgeous,” he says.
I have no makeup on, and I’m wearing a T-shirt and lounging pants. “O…kay,” I say.
He smiles. “No, you do. I mean, I’ve seen you at night before.” He narrows his eyes. “But there’s something about tonight…”
I roll my eyes. “My hair’s still damp. I took a shower. I just wanted to wash this whole night off me.”
He nods. “I get it. That’s why I stayed down and had a cognac. That was my way of washing the night away.”
“Jesse said he had a drink with you.”
“Yeah, he came down after he saw you guys to your room. Said he didn’t feel like sleeping just yet.”
“Talk about awkward.”
He presses his lips together for a few seconds. “Actually, it wasn’t. We kind of opened up to each other.”
I cock my head at him. Again, what happened to Dave? Last Rake-a-teer standing? Jovial David Simpson?
“I guess there’s more than one side to me.”
I sigh. I hope he doesn’t think I was calling him one-dimensional. Best not to try to explain. “What can I do for you?” I ask.
He starts to open his mouth, but I stop him.
“I mean other than sex.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not after sex. I’ll even sleep in Brianna’s bed if that makes you feel better.”
He seems to be laboring under the delusion that I don’t want to have sex. That’s far from the truth. I just don’t want to get myself into a place where my heart will be broken. That could easily happen with Dave Simpson.
The look on his face, though, is one of pure agony. It’s more than just the trauma of our shared experience.
It’s something more. His thoughts are…a mess.
“You want to talk?” Then a yawn splits my face.
He shakes his head and pats my shoulder. “You need to go back to bed. You’re exhausted.”
“I haven’t slept yet, Dave.”
“You just yawned.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t exhausted. Fatigued. Completely tired. But sleep isn’t coming.”
“Maybe I would like to talk,” he says, “but it can wait until morning. Let’s just try to get some sleep.”
I nod. “You can sleep in Brianna’s bed if you want. Or you can sleep with me. Whatever you choose.”
“What do you want?” he asks.
I shrug, trying to appear noncommittal. “I want what you think is best for you. You’re obviously shaken up, and if you think it would help to have sex—fuck, whatever—then let’s do it.”
He raises a hand in front of him. “I don’t want you to think—”