Page 58 of Love me, Maddie Mendoza

There was no magic, of course. There was training and muscle memory and a little thing called talent. Still, it felt primordial to me to fib. In my mind, the only way to keep our positions was to help her with the throw. I couldn’t step away. For reasons I wasn’t ready to unpack yet, my heart drummed on my rib cage and the only thing at the end of my tunnel vision was Maddie.

“Show me what you doing,” I said slowly, afraid she’d notice the edge of my voice.

Maddie turned toward the hoops. With her feet apart the way I left her, she flexed her knee and fixed her arm in a faux throw. Maddie wasn’t stupid. She knew how we did it, but many things could be improved.

Lots.

I fixed a few things; the angle of her arm, the grip of her hands. It wasn’t a recipe, but she sure looked less insane holding the ball.

“What you think?” she asked when I stopped messing with her stance.

I brushed the hair off her neck and whispered into her ear. “This is your best shot.”

Maddie licked her bottom lip. I felt drunk even when I had nothing to drink. Temporarily crazed was a thing, I was sure.

“Get on with it, Maddie.” I insisted.

“And if I still don’t get it right?” she asked without looking at me, but to the offending hoop.

“You probably won’t.”

She pierced me with a look. “Way to have confidence in a girl, Z.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. One hand found the small of her back. Was she always dressed half naked? Denim shorts were always her preferred clothing item, but were they always so damn tiny?

I felt her warm skin with my fingertips, my thumb drew circles as I looked right at her. “You can try as many times as you need. I’m happy to fix your posture for a little longer.”

I brought my other hand to my mouth, rubbing it like I wished to connect both hands. Dying to taste her skin again, kiss her lower back and everywhere else she’d let me.

I never said something so flirty to Maddie. Not that it was exactly forward. She could laugh it off if she chose.

Instead, she whispered, “Are you going to ask me to open my legs again?”

My mind went blank. I just stood there like a jackass blinking at her. My phone chimed from my pocket.

I felt suspended in time. The party was forgotten. Everything that wasn’t Maddie Mendoza ceased to exist. Was she coming on to me? Did she want me to ask her to open her…?

I couldn’t even finish that thought. My breath got stuck in my chest. I was lightheaded, while Maddie looked normal. She was barely affected by the words that just flew out of her mouth.

That damn mouth. Were those lips always so perfect? Like the Cupid’s bow. Heart-shaped upper lips, larger bottom. They were just incredible. I couldn’t stop staring at them now.

My phone wouldn’t stop. Whoever was calling just called again and again as soon as it went to voice mail. I shook my head and broke eye contact, fishing the phone from my pocket. I knew it was a mistake. I should’ve never broken the spell.

But that’s how it always is. We often assume we have all the time in the world, but life changes in a blink of an eye.

Our blink of an eye was when I looked away. When I faced my screen and saw that Maddie’s dad was calling me. I cleared my throat and extended the phone to her.

“It’s your dad.”

She looked down at the screen, looking as dizzy as I felt. “Hey, dad, it’s Maddie.”

I scratched my cheek. I had to ask her the second she stopped talking to her dad. I had to know if we were really flirting, if that was real and not just in my head.

I imagined all the outcomes in my mind. Her rejection. All the different ways I was going to fuck her. As my mind went down to the rabbit hole, I almost missed Maddie’s expression changing.

Her smile fell, a crease in her brow intensified.

I stepped closer when her hand shook as she nodded to the phone receiver. A moment went by and Maddie lowered the phone. Her words seemed far away.

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