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Cecelia’s vision follows his question, and she sees me. I’m waiting for an expression. A look that says she knows or remembers our interactions, or … something. Instead, I’m met with the same stoic gaze she gave me in the elevator.
I clear my throat. “Good to see you again, Cecelia. Can I call you Cece?”
She doesn’t roll her eyes, but her expression is apathetic. Damn, how do I get through to this girl? “You can call me boss or Ms. Mavin.”
I take a chance. “Cece it is.”
I see her jaw clench, but there’s a slight smirk that breaks through the red lips. It’s not much, and if I wasn’t staring at her lips, I might’ve missed it. But it was there. I have a shot; I just can’t mess it up.
“What do you want, Maddox?”
“I wanted to apologize.” My words seem to catch her off-balance. A small twitch of her head, her eyes stay on mine. “I screwed up, I realize that. Sometimes I let the rock star thing go to my head.” I lace my word with a smile. “Can you blame me?”
She takes a moment, seeming to ponder my words. Probably wondering if she can believe them. I don’t feel like I let the rock star thing go to my head. I’m not a complete ass, but this is all part of the game. And I think I’m starting to take the lead.
“Okay, then,” she replies. “Thanks.”
Thanks? That’s it? She turns back around, looking over a row of liquor bottles, and then taps the bartender on the shoulder. Wait, what’s happening here?
“Sorry,” I call over to her. “So, now that we’ve put that behind us, I thought maybe we could …” I let the words hang in the air.
I’m expecting one of the usual reactions I always get. A little flirty response or “The Look.” The look that says she knows what I’m talking about.
“We could?” She throws the words back at me, seeming to not have a clue what I’m talking about.
Giving her a smirk, I tilt my head to the side. You know, my eyes tell her.
She grins, and I finally think I have her. I’m wrong. “Oh,” she replies, stepping closer. “You thought you could come over here, offer me an apology, and I’d fall in line like one of the King of Bad’s groupies.”
My brow furrows. “Uh …”
She leans over the bar. Getting close enough to whisper so only I can hear, her eyes stay locked on mine. “Or maybe you thought I’d throw myself down on this bar right now for you. Is that what you thought, Maddox?”
A strange mixture of embarrassment, annoyance, aggravation, and desire swirls inside. This girl is unlike anything I’ve ever known, and I know she’s shooting me down right now. It’s black and white. There’s no gray area about what’s happening. Yet I’m still attracted to her.
“You should get ready for your next set, DJ,” she tells me. Turning around, she returns to talking to the bartender.
I scratch my head, unsure what just happened once again, and then turn to head back to our area. I can’t take more than one step when I see Jenny standing with her hands on her hips. She shakes her head in annoyance, then heads toward the stairs. Okay, that was a douche move to try and hit on another girl while Jenny was literally sitting on me moments ago. But the guilt also mixes with humiliation as Derrik is doubled over across Zoey, who’s giggling herself, and Adam’s head is thrown back over the couch in laughter.
