Page 23 of All Because of You

Dipping the brush back into the paint, she jerked her wrist, feeling a strange satisfaction at the way bits of paint smacked the wall. “I found out that he hasn’t changed as much as I thought he had.” She smoothed the globs of paint into streaks that blended in with the rest.

“What do you mean?”

The upbeat tune on the radio faded into some sappy love song. Madison flipped to another station. Country music poured out, and a female artist sang about getting revenge on her cheating ex. She turned the volume up a notch.

Then she filled Ashley in on the situation with Herman Hardware. “It’s dumb, really. I somehow convinced myself that he cared about helping me get the store in the right shape. That maybe he cared about me.”

To be fair, he’d never come out and said he cared about her or that he wanted more than friendship—or even that he wanted friendship, really. She’d just assumed. But there had been that moment when it seemed like he might kiss her. . . .

What was she thinking? Evan Walsh was a guy used to getting any woman he wanted. Probably even those he didn’t really want too. “I forgot that he’s just a player and world-class jerk to boot.”

Ashley stopped painting and set her eyes upon Madison. “He’s actually changed a lot in the last several years.”

“Really? How?”

“For one, he’s got a solid job and works really hard. He hasn’t dated anyone in a long time. And he used to be a regular at the Canteen—it’s a karaoke bar in the North Village—but I haven’t seen him there in a while. Not that I’m there a ton, but I heard it was like his second home for years.”

Madison took a deep breath, but the strong smell of paint filled her nostrils. She coughed then set down her brush and stepped away from the wall, studying it. The first coat was nearly complete, and Ashley was right—it was bold, bright. But it was only the first coat. After a second, the color would positively shine.

Funny how comparison could denigrate what seemed good now. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. He has his life, and I have mine. Our paths were never really meant to intersect. We’re from different worlds.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You’re both from Walker Beach.” Ashley rested her brush on the tray and joined Madison at the counter.

Ashley would never understand. She had always been buddy-buddy with everyone—it’s how she’d ended up being one of Madison’s only friends. But she also had one of those personalities that people gravitated toward.

Kind of like Evan.

“Never mind.” She offered Ashley a wet wipe then snagged one for herself, dragging it along the edges of her fingers.

Ashley followed suit. “You wouldn’t be so upset with him if you didn’t like him, you know.”

Madison shut her eyes and wished she could do the same with her ears. But Ashley was right. Somehow, in an embarrassingly short time, Evan Walsh had weaseled his way back into her heart. She’d have to make sure the doors were shut extra tight this time. Because even though he’d lied—or, at the very least, omitted the entire truth—she’d still found herself wanting to hear him out since Saturday.

Of course, she’d ignored his texts and hadn’t answered the door the few times he’d come by since then. How mature of her. But what else could a girl do? Clearly her judgment around him was not what it should be.

Sighing, Madison slumped against the counter. “Yeah, I know. And I feel like such an idiot for it.”

“You’re not.” Ashley came closer and threw an arm around Madison, squeezing her shoulders before letting go. “You keep saying he hasn’t changed. I know he wasn’t the most well-behaved kid in high school, but it sounds like there’s more to the story.”

Her friend would think Madison was pathetic for still caring about this ten years later. And really, she didn’t, but it went to a pattern of behavior she should have seen coming. “There is.”

“And it sounds like the kind of story that requires chocolate.” Ashley turned on her heel and marched through the back doorway toward the room that served as a mini kitchen.

OK, then. Madison followed and found Ashley rummaging in the few cupboards over the sink. Next to that sat the microwave. “What are you looking for?”

“Ah. Here we go.” Ashley produced two oversized mugs—a turquoise one painted with Kokopelli, the other boasting the Luke’s Diner label from the TV showGilmore Girls. “Now to find the hot chocolate.”

“All the way to the left.”

Ashley found the packets of Nestlé’s cocoa and filled each mug with water before sticking them into the microwave. The beeping of the buttons filled the silence between them.

This was Madison’s kitchen now. She should be the one making cocoa for her friend. But all she had the energy for was to plop down at the bright green two-person table while Ashley pulled the mugs of barely boiling water onto the counter and filled them with the chocolate powder.

“So.” She side-glanced at Madison while she stirred, the metal spoon clanking against the porcelain mug. “What’s the story?”

How long had it been since Madison had confided in anyone? Too long. But suddenly, she craved a connection. So when Ashley offered her the mug of steaming chocolate, Madison took it. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Ashley slid into the seat across from her, blowing on her own drink.

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