“Sure, I’d like that,” I reply, as I realize I actually don’t know anything about her.

I know how to make her come with my mouth in five quick seconds. And how she likes to be fucked, but I don’t actually know who she is and what she likes that’s non-sex-related. I thought she was happy just being fuck buddies, but that was my screw-up, as I should have never assumed—looks like my mother was right once again.

“Do you think we could grab a coffee after work?”

In this moment, the Juliet Harte I thought I knew has just flipped my beliefs onto their ass, and this person sitting before me is a complete stranger. This stranger is one I actually want to get to know better.

“Sure,” I reply with a nod. I owe her this.

Juliet takes a deep breath, patting down her hair and face. “I’m really sorry for storming in here like a crazy person. I should have called first.”

“It’s fine, it happens all the time.” I smirk, and she laughs, her beautiful face no longer clogged in tears.

“Okay, well, I’ll let you get back to work.” She stands, ironing the crinkles from her dress. “I’ll meet you at around seven?”

“Sounds great,” I reply, also standing, my hands dug deep into my pockets.

“Great. Well, see you tonight.” She throws me completely off-guard as she steps forward and hugs me.

It’s the first time we’ve embraced, which is utterly ridiculous and shameful, seeing as I’ve embraced her insides on more than one occasion. I slowly remove my hands from my pockets, and as I wrap her into my arms, I’m shocked at how fragile and vulnerable she feels. I’m not used to this Juliet, and I have a feeling it’ll take some getting used to.

She breaks away after a moment and bids me farewell with a chaste kiss on my cheek. I watch, dumbfounded, as she leaves my office, because that woman looked like Juliet, but that person is not the Juliet I thought I knew.

I take a seat behind my desk, still flabbergasted at what just took place. The moment I met Juliet, I knew she’d cause a storm. But where does that leave things with Madison and me?

My cell beeps, alerting me to an awaiting text, and I welcome the distraction. Swiping through my messages, I groan, slapping my palm against my forehead.

Reading the message over, I feel like the world’s biggest asshole, because the sweet words just taunt me with what I have to do.

I haven’t eaten all day :p

See you tonight. Can’t wait.

Maddy x

11

Famous Last Words

MADISON

“What do you mean ‘he can’t make it?’” asks Mary from the end of my bed.

I shrug, tossing her my phone so she can see the proof for herself.

As she reads over the message, she curses. “What does he mean, ‘something came up?’ Like what, exactly? The only forgivable excuse here would be that his mother died,” she barks, scrunching up her face in obvious disgust that Dixon asked for a “raincheck” on our date.

“His mother is dead,” I reply, sadly putting away the beautiful blue dress I was planning to wear this evening.

“Oh, whatever. This is horseshit!” she cries, jabbing her finger into the phone screen.

“I know, Lamb.” I sigh, because it really is horseshit.

Over three hours ago, Dixon messaged me, claiming something came up and he wouldn’t be able to make our date. He apologized a number of times, and asked for a raincheck. Other than that, he gave me no other reason why he couldn’t attend, or when this alleged raincheck was to take place.

I feel so stupid. I can’t believe I actually thought a man like Dixon would be interested in a girl like me.

“I’m an idiot. Dixon probably doesn’t even think of me like that. I mean, look at him, and look at me,” I say, doing a sweep down my body.

“No, he’s the idiot. We’re going out,” Mary angrily states.

She jumps up from my bed, storming over to my closet and rummaging through my garments.

“I don’t want to go out.” The thought of socializing with anyone sounds like a horrible idea.

“This isn’t optional,” Mary barks, her head buried in my closet.

“Lamb,” I warn, but Mary turns her head, pinning me with a look that screams finality.

“Fine,” I huff, throwing my hands in the air, as there really isn’t any point arguing with her.

“You won’t regret it,” she says with a crooked smile.

Famous last words.

So when Mary said we were going out, I thought we were going out for pizza, or to a movie. I didn’t realize she meant out, out.

I’m sitting at a table which overlooks a huge dance floor, completely and utterly out of my comfort zone. I watch as Mary bumps and grinds against some pierced rock god without a care in the world. She recently broke up with her high school sweetheart, Corey, and I know under her tough exterior, she’s hurting.

The man she trusted, the man she gave her virginity to, turned out to be a lying, cheating jerk wad, so I really don’t blame her for being so bitter. But I like to believe that not all guys think with their dicks.

I mean, yes, Dixon is an ass for totally bailing on me, but not once did I ever feel objectified when in his presence, nor did I ever feel like he was talking to me because he wanted to get into my pants. I actually felt like we had a genuine connection, and that maybe he was different than all the other guys I’ve met.

But I guess I was wrong.

Reaching for my tequila, I decide to drown my sorrows in this sunrise, as I don’t have class till late tomorrow afternoon.

Just as I begin to feel a buzz, the barstool next to me scrapes along the floor and I turn to look at who has stolen Mary’s seat.

“Hey, is anyone sitting here?” asks the hot, green-eyed stranger beside me.

I nod with a smile. “Actually, yes, there is. You see that crazy redhead on the dance floor?” I point to my best friend, who is currently surrounded by a group of eager suitors.

The hottie next to me nods as he narrows his eyes, looking Mary’s way.

“Well, that’s who was sitting here,” I conclude with a grin.

My stranger gives me a dimpled smile, and leans closer to yell into my ear, as the music is blaring over the speakers. “I don’t think she’ll be back anytime soon,” he replies, and I laugh because I think he just may be right.

I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, or the fact I feel a little rejected by Dixon’s “raincheck,” but whatever it is, I extend my hand and smile.

“Hi, I’m Madison.”

“Hi, I’m David,” my stranger says, and I try not cringe at the fact his name reminds me of another name which starts with D.

“Nice to meet you, David,” I say, quickly recovering from my Dixon depression.

“You too. Can I buy you a drink?” David asks, his long bangs falling into his eyes.

I chug down the rest of my tequila, and smile. “Sure.”

David laughs and I instantly feel at ease with him.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, and I watch as he makes his way through the crowd, impressed with what I see.

Maybe there’s hope for me yet. I mean, everything happens for a reason. Maybe I just haven’t figured out what my reason for meeting Dixon is.