Page 52 of Joy to Noel
“How much younger than you is she?” Madison asks.
“Ten years. My parents had only planned on having one child. Hana likes to say she was the surprise party we all needed,” I say, and Madison laughs.
When she quiets, she whispers, “‘Now I see the mystery of your loneliness.’”
I recognize the quote fromAll’s Well That Ends Well, but I still ask, “What do you mean?”
“I get it. Your aversion to opening up to people. Your hostility toward small towns. I understand,” Madison says. She tilts her head to look at me, so I raise my cheek from her hair and angle my face toward her.
Her lips are so close to mine. A breath away. The dim light of the phone flashlight casts shadows across her face, and I cease breathing, afraid of what I might do. Afraid of what it would mean to eliminate that inch of space between us.
“But the message you internalized as a little kid isn’t always true. Youcanhave friends who won’t hurt you. I’m not going to hurt you, Liam,” Madison whispers. “You can show me who you are, and I won’t use it against you.”
Maybe. Until we leave. And never come back.
Clearing my throat, I slightly shift my body away from Madison. She suddenly sits up straight, and Hamlet jumps off my lap.
I’ve officially broken the spell.
“I’ll leave the light here, but I’m going to see what it looks like outside,” I say. I hear Madison murmur “okay” as I stand and open the door, walking away from the tension between us.
I open the front door and look around. There are tree limbs down all over the place, and rain is still pouring in sheets. Closing the door, I turn around to see Madison walking across the living room with the phone flashlight.
“How’s it look?” she asks.
“Lots of tree limbs down. I wouldn’t be surprised if the power is out all night, especially in a more remote town like this,” I say. The light is illuminating Madison’s face enough that I see the look of fear pass over her face.
“Why don’t we sleep out here in the living room? We can turn on the gas fireplace and at least have a little bit of light,” I suggest. Madison is quick to agree, and we push the lumpy couch out of the way so we can move the mattresses from her bed and the trundle out to the living room. We line them up in front of the fireplace, and I flip the switch to turn it on.
After we alternate taking my phone with us to go to the bathroom and brush our teeth, I power it off to save some battery fortomorrow morning. We lie down on our respective mattresses, Hamlet stretches out on the pillow above my head, and I stare at the ceiling.
“Liam?” Madison’s voice says, barely audible.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
I turn my head to look at her. “For what?”
Her voice has more strength, more sass, when she says, “You know what.”
My lips twitch in a smile. “Goodnight, MJ.”
“Night, Suits.”
Minutes tick by as I try to fall asleep, but I can’t even keep my eyes closed. Tired of staring at the ceiling, I fold my arm under my head, propping it so I can watch the fire. As Madison’s breathing evens out, I give up the fight to not look over at her.
Madison Joy might very well be the fiercest woman I’ve ever met. But staring at her now in the dim firelight—curled on her side, hands tucked under her chin, hair splayed on the pillow behind her—she looks so delicate.
My chest heats with the phantom sensation of her tucked against my side, that eucalyptus-scented hair caressing my neck.
I roll to my side, facing away from Madison.
My gut is wrong. Madison is a bad idea. My gut is wrong. It’s wrong,I tell myself over and over, until exhaustion finally drowns out my consciousness.
Chapter twenty-three
Madison
