Page 104 of Meet Me In The Dark
I toss a piece of popcorn at her head, which she dodges effortlessly.
“Does he have friends at least?” she asks.
“Two that he’s really close with. Both in relationships.”
Madison groans and flops onto the bed next to us. “Of course they are. All the good ones are taken.”
“You’re literally going on a date in two hours,” I remind her, gesturing to the pile of rejected outfits strewn across her floor.
“Yeah, yeah.” She waves me off. “Speaking of which, what about this one?”
She struts over to the mirror and strikes a pose in a tight red dress that could single-handedly cause a traffic accident.
Emmy and I tilt our heads at the same time, assessing.
“Hot,” Emmy says.
I hum in agreement.
Madison studies her reflection. “Is it too much?”
“For a date? No. For church? Yes.”
“I mean, it depends on what you’re trying to achieve tonight,” Emmy says. “Jesus, or orgasms?”
“Both?” Madison deadpans before grabbing another option.
She disappears behind her closet door, muttering something about how she refuses to waste a good outfit on a man who’s probably not worth the Uber fare.
Emmy nudges me, her eyes bright. “So… more details. I’m living vicariously through you.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re married. You have sex.”
“Yeah, on Wednesday and Saturday nights.”
I blink at her.
Madison pokes her head out of the closet so fast she almost gives herself whiplash. “You schedule your sex?”
Emmy glares. “You have two kids and come back to me on that,” she retorts, grabbing another fistful of popcorn.
Madison raises her hands like she’s backing away from a fight. “No, thank you. I’d need to wait for my eggs to defrost first anyway,” she says, strutting out of the closet in her next outfit—a black jumpsuit that hugs her curves in all the right places.
“Ooooh,” I murmur, taking a sip of my wine.
“This might be the one,” Emmy agrees.
Madison spins in front of the mirror, assessing herself. “Orgasms over Jesus?”
Emmy and I share a look before we both nod and say, “Definitely.”
Thirty-Two
Julian
I’m already hard enough to cut glass by the time Celeste’s car pulls up, headlights sweeping across the dirt and steel skeleton of what’s going to be mine.
When she steps out, I swear my lungs fill for the first time in five days.
