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But when I notice her staggering in my arms, I’m ready to stabilize her right away, still refusing to pull out of her, as the last crests of our rapture wash over us in unison.
Chapter 37
Chase
Madison’s living room is a testament to modern elegance. The room is spacious, with floor-to-ceiling windows, giving it a bright and airy feel. The predominant color scheme is white, creating an open canvas that accentuates the room’s size. Delicate pastel accents punctuate the decor.
The overall design is so reduced and minimalistic, that one could almost think a man lives here—if it weren’t for the centerpiece of the room, a plush sofa adorned with flowery cushions.
I’m sitting on a bar chair at the counter that separates her open kitchen from the living area, feeling both relaxed and a bit ridiculous in the comically short robe she’s lent me. It’s white, but adorned with subtle pink petals around the sleeves, and I’m beginning to suspect she chose this robe on purpose. The robe she’s wearing is similar, but lacks the pink flowers and the sleeves. Instead, there are delicate black lines which would have been more suited for a man.
She glances over and can’t help but chuckle at the sight of me.
“You look like a hero in one of those cheesy romantic comedies,” she teases, her laughter infectious.
I laugh along with her. “Well, I aim to please,” I reply with a grin, feeling surprisingly at ease in this playful banter.
“Do you want a drink?” she asks, already opening one of her polished cabinets. “Non-alcoholic of course. You still have to drive.”
“Yes, Mom,” I mock, raising an eyebrow at her.
She laughs. “Don’t worry, I know a great mocktail. If you like ginger?”
“Love it.”
“Great, two Ginger Zings coming up!”
She beams at me, and the light-hearted ease with which she moves around in her kitchen almost lets me forget our encounter from before. The strain on her face is gone, and she’s a lot more relaxed since our shower fuck. Right now, here, in her home, we’re just two people sharing a moment of laughter and camaraderie. It’s as if the flush of happy hormones has temporarily erased all the stress she’s under—and the conflict that stands between us.
As I watch her make our drinks, fetching things from drawers, cabinets and the fridge, which she throws together as if she has done this a thousand times before, my mind keeps whirling with uncomfortable thoughts. She may be in a surprisingly good mood right now, but I can’t ignore the things we have to talk about.
“It’s just a bit of ginger, agave syrup, lime juice, and sparkling water. Very simple, but so refreshing,” she announces as she places the drink in front of me. “Sorry, no garnish. I don’t have any cucumber or mint or anything.”
She even adds a straw made from glass, which she uses to stir her drink, before we clink glasses. The mocktail is a well-balanced combination of spiciness, bright citrus, and a touch of sweetness, all enhanced by the refreshing bubbles of sparkling water.
“Very invigorating,” I comment.
She nods. “It’s my go-to drink after a Jiu-Jitsu session. I’m always so drained after class.”
“Tell me about it,” I say. “Raymond really knows how to wear you out.”
“He’s good, though, isn’t he?”
“Oh, yes, even better than I expected,” I agree. “I’ve never trained with anyone who has his level of expertise without letting it get to his ego. He’s very down to Earth, despite his success.”
“A quality that’s hard to find in L.A.,” she murmurs, as her gaze begins to migrate through the room, latching on to things here and there, but always avoiding me.
“We don’t have to talk about it now,” I say, keeping my voice low, as if I was afraid to scare her away.
“You never want to talk about it,” she sighs. “Not, when we were still in Hawaii, not now… when then, Chase? When will we talk about the giant elephant in the room?”
I can tell that she’s trying to stay calm, fighting for composure while her fingers tighten around her drink. She’s in turmoil, but doesn’t want for me to see just how much this is bothering her.
“To be honest, I’m not sure,” I tell her truthfully. “All I know is that it has to be in a meeting room, an office. And we should be fully dressed.”
A frown emerges on her pretty face. “Why is that?”
I swallow dryly, noticing how I can no longer look her in the eyes, as I try to find the right words.
