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Not wanting to aimlessly wander around her apartment, I walk down the hallway in hopes the first room will reveal Juliet inside. I sneak a look inside, as I don’t want to invade her privacy, which is ridiculous, seeing as I didn’t mind violating her privacy last night.
When I see that she’s not in there, I decide to take a look in the bathroom. However, that search is also fruitless. Deciding to freshen up, I try to tame my messy hair, but quickly give up and instead use the toilet, splash some water on my face, and gargle with some mouthwash, hoping to look and smell semi-human.
There is another door down the hallway, but I decide to wait it out in the kitchen, as Juliet would have no doubt heard me bashing about, alerting her to the fact I’m awake. However, thirty minutes later, I’m clawing at the walls, desperate for a shower, a couple of Advil, and a cup of coffee. But I feel rude leaving without at least seeing Juliet. After last night, the least I can do is wait, but then a thought hits me. What if she didn’t want me to wait? She would have surely left a note if she did, letting me know where she went. But as I scour the counter, I see there is no sign of a note.
Suddenly feeling like a right royal dumbass, I reach for my discarded tie on the back of the sofa, say goodbye to the mutt, and then slam the door shut behind me. I feel like such a chump, sitting around for a woman who obviously doesn’t want to be found.
As I push the elevator call button, I ignore the pressing thought that Juliet has just…fucked like a man.
However, in this circumstance, I’m the damn woman, waiting for the man to magically appear after their blatant one-night stand, and not getting that it was just that. This is beyond embarrassing. I should feel relieved, but I’m not.
Bolting out the elevator doors as soon as they slide open, I hang my head, partially as a way to hide my disheveled state, but for the most part because I’m ashamed. This is my first walk of shame, and I’m going to ensure it’s my last.
Not looking where I’m going, I charge straight into a wafer-thin frame, but quickly reach out to steady her arms before she tumbles to the ground.
Looking down, I don’t know if I should bless, or curse the irony of life as I see Madison’s sparkling green eyes shine up at me in amusement.
“We’ve gotta stop bumping into one another this way.” She smiles, tucking a curl of sweaty hair behind her ear.
She looks damp, puffed and perfect. Her tight shorts and crop top reveal way too much milky white skin, and once again I find myself staring at her like a creepy old pervert. What is it about this girl that leaves me tongue-tied?
“What are you doing here?” she asks when I remain silent.
Her innocent question however, has me feeling like an even dirtier old man, but I coolly reply, “Just visiting a friend.”
She looks down at my unkempt state, not at all believing my pathetic lie. But she nods, not questioning it. “Oh, cool. I was justcoming back from a run. Not that I needed to clarify that.” She shuffles her sneaker-clad feet with a small smirk.
I chuckle, and realize she’s just as tongue-tied as me.
“What are you doing now?” she asks, biting her lower lip.
“Um, nothing,” I reply. “Why?”
“Well, I was just going to head upstairs for a quick shower then head out to grab a bite to eat. Would you like to come?”
Totally ignoring her breakfast invitation, I ask, “You livehere?” and I point above me.
Madison smiles and nervously nods. “Yes. My stepfather owns the building, and with apartments costing a small fortune in New York, it makes sense to live here.”
I whistle. “The entire building? Wow. I’m impressed.”
But regardless of how impressed I am, there is no way inhellI’m going back upstairs. But I find myself really wanting to accept Madison’s invitation.
She must be able to read my dilemma as she quickly says, “You know what, don’t worry about it. I can’t smell any worse than you do.” She bumps into me playfully, laughing at my pallid expression.
Realizing she’s joking, I instantly relax and bump her back. “Well, for that comment, you’re buying.”
We’re sitting in the smallest diner known to mankind, and to be honest, I didn’t even know it existed. But Madison promised the food was to die for and not to judge its inside by its outer appearance. I try not to read too much into that relevant comment, and rather focus on the fact that this 120-pound girl has enough food in front of her to feed a small starving nation. I have no idea where she puts it.
She senses me watching her and slowly raises her attentive eyes. “What?”
“Nothing,” I reply with a smirk, focusing my attention on sipping my coffee.
“This is why I run every morning,” she explains, adding more salt to her scrambled eggs.
“Every morning? Damn, that’s commitment.”
“I start class at nine, so I’m up early anyway,” she says with a shrug. “I may as well start my day off being healthy because God knows, as it progresses, I’m anything but.” She smirks, picking up her fork and knife, ready to dig into her waffles.
