I know my actions are harsh, but it’s best to be blunt, and by the waitress’s gaping mouth, my actions have been heard, loud and clear.

“Okay, well, your loss,” she defensively says, and walks off in a huff.

Sighing, I look down at my meal and push it away, as I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. The only thing I’m craving is sitting feet away from me, and I don’t know what to do. Raising my eyes, I see that Madison is no longer at her table. I’m not sure why I just refused free, easy sex, because God knows, I haven’t refused it this past month. But seeing Madison has just brought home the fact that I need to kick a habit—her.

26

A Stranger in his Clothing

MADISON

Seeing Dixon after so long was exactly how I predicted it to be—a damn disaster.

My heart sped up the moment I saw him enter the restaurant, looking totally at ease and owning the room with his confidence and poise. However, my heart began racing for an entirely different reason, and that reason was the blonde waitress who zeroed in on him the moment he entered the room. Jealousy like I’ve never experienced before hit me so hard I had to excuse myself and take a breather in the bathroom before I did something I regretted, like claw out her eyes.

When I returned, I saw him openly flirt with her and look like a pig in shit when she gave him her number. But why should I care? I was the one who ran out on him like an insane person, when he did nothing wrong. I was also the one who told him I could never see him again without giving him an explanation why I had such a sudden change of heart. And I was the one who told him he was a mistake, which was a total lie.

Honestly, I couldn’t tell him why I freaked. It’s not something I want to share with anyone, but a small part of me does with Dixon, and that’s what scares me the most. Feeling nothing but kindness and tenderness in his touch showed me that maybe, just maybe, I have a second chance at living a normal life.

But then I went and screwed it up.

When I left Dixon’s that night, I knew there was something I had to do; I had to tell David it was over. It was unfair to string him along, and I knew he would probably hate me, but I would prefer that than hurt him a second longer.

So for the past month, I have focused on school, and have purposely not focused on how I messed things up with Dixon. I know he would never give me another chance, but honestly, I really need to deal with my demons before I go and be intimate with anyone ever again.

However, after being worshipped by Dixon, I don’t want to experience that with anyone other than him. The way he touched me was unlike anything I have ever felt. I found a new sense of freedom in my physical liberation with Dixon, but that all went to hell, thanks to my meltdown.

Plain and simple, I’m scared. And I’d rather be scared and push Dixon away, than get hurt, because with Dixon that hurt will almost certainly result in tears, heartache, and pain. So staying away is better for everyone.

My apprehension about opening up has me standing in front of my hotel mirror, trying to look enthused for my breakfast date with Dixon, but it’s going as expected—terrible. When Dr. Wellington proposed having breakfast with Dixon, I couldn’t say no. I was honored he even asked me to attend this event with him in the first place, as I know how prestigious it is.

I just have to suck it up and deal because this is for the best. I can act professional, and I sure as hell can pretend that Dixon never inflamed my body with his gentle mouth and needy hands. Thanks to his flirty encounter with the Barbie Doll, I now have the fuel to douse any nostalgia I may feel, because it’s obvious he’s moved on, and now it’s my turn to do the same.

“Everything okay?” Dr. Wellington asks while I nervously fidget with the napkin in my lap.

“Oh, yes, I’m fine,” I reply, guiltily meeting his concerned eyes. “I’m just feeling a little off-color.”

“Oh, dear, you should have mentioned something earlier. Would you like to go back upstairs?” he kindly suggests, but I shake my head, as I’m determined to make it through this one breakfast and prove to myself, and to Dixon, that I’ve moved on.

But that statement is quickly revoked when I smell the most delicious fragrance known to mankind float through the room. I know in a heartbeat who’s wearing that heady scent. It belongs to the owner of that deep, husky voice, which has my entire body spreading out in goose pimples the moment he opens his mouth.

“Good morning,” Dixon says, addressing the table, while I choke on…air.

Subtly coughing, I hope my asphyxiation passes before I have to face the hottest man on the planet. Thankfully it does, and I raise my eyes to meet his, but the moment I do, I almost choke once again.

“Good morning, Dixon,” Dr. Wellington says, oblivious to my sudden inability to breathe.

“Max,” he replies, giving him a small nod, but his eyes never leave mine.

“This is Madison and Alex.” Dr. Wellington introduces us, unaware I know Dr. Mathews in a personal way.

That thought has me thinking about someone else who probably also knows Dr. Mathews personally, and that would be the little tart from last night.

With that vision in mind, I straighten my spine and extend my hand. “Lovely to meet you, Dr. Mathews.”

Dixon happily accepts it, and I tell my body to stop somersaulting in excitement the moment our hands touch.

“Pleasure,” he replies with a grin, and I try not to stare at the way his checkered shirt highlights his rocky planes and hardened muscles.

He then turns his eyes to Alex, the Russian beauty to my right. “Why hello, Alex,” he says, accepting her hand, but delivering a light kiss on the back of her knuckles.

I have no doubt the entire table can hear my teeth grinding at the sight, but I calmly reach for my water and remind myself it’s only one breakfast, and then he’ll be gone.

When Dixon takes a seat next to me, I try not to stare at his long fingers as he reaches for the menu, but images of those fingers wrapping around my breasts and playing with my nipples suddenly assault my brain, and I clumsily drop my glass, spilling water down the front of my white sundress.

“Shit!” I quietly curse, reaching for my soiled napkin and uselessly wiping down my dress.

“Oh, Madison, are you okay?” Dr. Wellington asks, the concern clear in his voice. “Let me call a waiter.”

My cheeks are flushed, I’m beyond embarrassed, and I need to get away from Dixon’s eagle eyes because I can feel him staring at me. “It’s fine, Dr. Wellington. I’ll just clear it up.” Kicking out my chair, I drop to the floor to pick up my glass.

There is really no need for me to be down here, but it gives me a moment to catch my breath before I have to go back up there and face Dixon’s smugness.

“Are you going to stay down there all morning?” Dixon asks with a smirk, and I raise my eyes to see his baby blues peering down at me, as he’s leaned across my seat, watching my every move.

I refrain from using an expletive, as his smug expression pisses me off, so I quickly regain my composure and retake my seat without throwing my glass at his face. My cheeks are hot and I’m a little breathless, but apart from that I think I’m over my madness.

“Sorry about that,” I say, mainly addressing Dr. Wellington, who waves off the apology.