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“That’s great,” I tell him, using my best bravado. “You are killing it with your milestones.”
“It’s just that… I’m just… Shit, it has been so long I’m not sure I even remember how to interact with a woman.”
“You interact with me just fine, Mad. You’ll be fine.”
“Yeah but you’re,” he pauses, thinking over his words, “you.”
Huh. I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended. Does he think I’m too good for him, or does he not even think of me as a female? Lost in my own thoughts, it takes me a few minutes to realize that Madden is wired. Like he’s had two Five Hour Energy and a Red Bull wired. I’ve never seen him this out of sorts.
“Hey,” I say in my most soothing tone, “what is up with you?” A sweat has taken over his whole body, which is odd because we’ve been cooling down for several minutes.
Grabbing the back of his neck, rubbing furiously, he begins to pace like a mad man and keeps mumbling some shit about Carter and how he’s going to fix him a new asshole. After a couple seconds, he looks up at me and says, “Shit, I’m a mess. I’m just going to cancel this date. I don’t even know how to date.”
My heart and this man should not be so connected, and I have no idea when the hell that happened. “Sit down, Madden,” I instruct. “You remember how to date; it’s like riding a bike. What do you need to get ready?”
“Uh—at the risk of sounding like a girl,” he mutters, “what the hell do I even wear?” Ah wardrobe, maybe I can at least do this little bit to help him out.
“That’s easy enough. What do you have in your closet?”
“A bunch of button-up shirts my mom picked out and work jeans.”
Ummm … not sure what I can do with that. “So you need clothes for your date, and probably just all around with the amount of weight you’ve lost.”
He nods solemnly. Grabbing my bag, “Get your stuff, and let’s go.” I tell him. He looks perplexed, but he follows my orders and doesn’t ask any questions until we’re nearing the parking lot.
“Where are we going?” he finally mutters.
“We’re going shopping, Madden.”
*~*
I lead Madden into the mall and straight into Brighton’s Department Store. You can learn a lot about a person when shopping with them. It doesn’t take me long to determine that Madden does not like shopping, but he’s easily distracted by his surroundings. Also, judging by the sticker shock he currently goes into when he looks at the price tag on the pair of jeans I hand him, his Mom must do all the shopping for Belle because Justice price tags would send this man into full cardiac arrest.
“Are you fuckin’ serious?” he bellows. “$85 for a pair of jeans?”
The jeans he currently holds are not one of the most expensive brands, so I make a mental note to keep him away from the higher priced items in the store. It’s safe to say that Madden Davenport will not be wearing any True Religion jeans. Yeah, yeah, yeah—I’m a total label whore. I haven’t always been that way, probably because most popular brands wouldn’t fit me back then. Once I lost weight, clothes were my main form of reward. Expensive clothes that currently hang in my closet because I wear workout gear every day.
“Try these on, Mr. ‘I own my own Construction Company so I know you can afford it’, please.”
Grabbing the jeans, he starts toward the dressing room mumbling about how this one pair of jeans is the equal to two hours of tiling a bathroom.
“Madden,” I call out to him, and he turns. I hand the simple black button-up to him, purposely hiding the price tag. “Try this on too.” Jerking the shirt from my hand, he huffs and walks off. Waiting on him to come out from the dressing room, I smell her before I see her. Shit on a cracker, I know Gia is there before she speaks. She wears enough perfume in the gym every day that you can smell her coming a mile away. She has to keep Jimmy Choo in business with the amount of that stuff she wears every day. Who the hell wears perfume in the gym? Seriously. I push my shoulders back before she can open her mouth and underhandedly insult me with the venomous sugar that coats her tone. I beat her to the punch.
“Gia,” I beam, “done so early today?” Shit, I totally forgot what a blubbering idiot Madden becomes when he sees her. Watching him fawn all over her, in addition to the insult or compliment he gave me earlier, may be what pushes me over the edge today. Why do I care? Hell if I know, but for some reason I want Madden to think highly of me. I’ve never really cared if a man found me desirable, but with him I do, which is why I’m currently running ramped around my own head, trying to figure out how to get rid of her.
“Ha,” she draws, “Jordan, looking for your next outfit in the men’s department; why am I not surprised.” This chick always has been a grade A bitch. Too bad she still lives in high school while the rest of us have graduated long ago. I rarely give in to Gia’s pettiness. I’ve found that she hates to be ignored more than anything.
I smile even though it pains me. “You know me, always thinking outside the box.” Her sneer indicates that I’ve achieved my goal. Mouth open and ready to spew something hateful at me, her eyes lock on something behind me as she gapes. I feel him behind me. My traitorous body now knows when he’s near. Excellent. I turn to look at Madden, and for the moment I’m stunned too. He looks good. No, scratch that—he looks damn fine. The jeans and shirt fit him incredibly. This is what he must absolutely not wear on a date, with another woman. I’m in so much trouble. And here stands this strong man, blushing like a schoolboy at the most vile woman I’ve ever known.
I turn back to her and think of a reason to excuse myself from this fucked-up love triangle that only I know about.
“Hey, Madden,” she coos, and I f
orce myself not to regurgitate in my own mouth. “Looking good.” And then she winks at him, and I swear I hear him sigh. Fucking Christ. The green monster rears its ugly head, and the words just spew from my mouth.
“Madden,”—I look down at my Apple watch then back up to him, ignoring Gia completely—“can we hurry it up; I have plans.” He blinks, and it’s like he just now remembers that I’m here with him and the ‘one who got away’.
“Uhhhh… Yeah.” He pauses for a moment. “Ummm … just let me”—he points back toward the door—“get changed and pay.” His attention now is back completely on Gia. “It was good to see you,” he stammers. “Soooo good.” The smile on her face is victorious, yet I don’t know what she has won.
