Page 29 of Dirty Dix

“Well, you were definitely the winner from where I stood.”

“How’d you figure that?” I ask, not quite following.

“Before you so elegantly swan-dived into the asphalt”—I lunge out to playfully smack him on his arm, but he dodges my attack—“I was going to forfeit,” he explains.

“You were not, you liar.” I chuckle in disbelief.

Dixon grins, placing a hand over his heart, attempting to appear genuine. “Oh, but I was. This old body is obviously no match for your youthful spirit. You won fair and square, Madison.”

I’m not buying his story for a second, but he looks too adorable, and I can’t argue with him.

“Well, I would still feel wrong, as it kinda feels like I’m cheating. So how about you buy dinner, and I’ll buy dessert?” I suggest, hoping he says yes. I’m desperate to draw out any time spent with him.

Dixon appears to mull over my proposal, then with a lopsided smile, he says, “You drive a hard bargain, but I suppose that’s fair.”

I barely stop myself from fist pumping in excitement because I’m sure any sudden movement will enrage my impending headache.

“So it’s settled then. I’ll let you choose the day.” I don’t want to look too eager and suggest we make good on our agreement tonight.

However, my heart ends up in my throat as Dixon suggests, “How about tomorrow evening?”

Trying not to blind him with my ridiculously excited smile, I nod. “Tomorrow works for me.”

Dixon smirks and slowly stands to his full, topless, dominating height. He extends his hand down to me, and Igratefully accept, standing gradually, as I still feel light-headed. As we stand toe-to-toe, my overactive mind invokes images of me pressing myself up against all that tanned, supple skin and getting lost in its soft smoothness. But I shake those thoughts aside, as I feel a little guilty that Dixon is half nude because of me.

A female jogger runs past us, and she makes it more than obvious she’s gaping at the naked god in front of her. An unexpected sense of jealousy passes over me, and I try my hardest not to eyeball her because I have no right to.

Dixon seems oblivious and reaches into his pocket, producing a crisp white business card. “Now there are no excuses to run late,” he regretfully says, and I know he’s referring to last night.

I thankfully accept it, but with nowhere safe to put it, I place it in my sports bra, which is a habit I picked up from running without any pockets. It really isn’t a big deal, but as I look up and meet Dixon’s heated eyes, it appears he disagrees. He snaps his intense gaze from my chest and meets my eyes.

“Remind me to never ask you to mind my belongings,” he says, appearing half serious.

“And why’s that?” I ask with a smirk.

“Because I’ll no doubt lose a hand,” he cheekily replies while I almost gag on my tongue.

Little does he know his hands are always welcome.

So I’m either the smartest or the stupidest motherfucker known to mankind.

I’m betting on the latter.

I’ve somehow managed to find myself in a predicament where I am interested in two women. A couple of weeks ago, the thought of being interested inonewoman was comical, but here I am, sitting at my desk, fisting my hair in frustration because I don’t know what the hell to do.

After being ridden into next year by Juliet, I fell into an exhausted heap and slept like the dead. The only thing that woke me was a fire engine zipping past at a little past one o’clock in the morning. After my sleep and post-coitus-clogged brain decidedto play catch-up, I realized I had stood up Madison as we agreed to meet to exchange numbers and whatnot.

A sense of utter regret passed over me, and before I knew what was happening, I was running toward her work like a bat outta hell.

So the question here is, why? Why did I feel guilty? I mean, I just slept with another woman six hours prior. If I was going to feel guilty about anything, it should be the fact that I still had Juliet’s scent all over me when I met up with Madison. But with Juliet, it was just sex—with Madison, it was…more.

The obvious answer here would be to tell Ms. Harte to hit the road and see where things go with Madison. But I can’t—sex without strings is so much easier than a relationship. And I have a feeling a relationship with Madison wouldn’t be smooth sailing. Call it doctor’s intuition, but I think she has some serious baggage buried underneath her sweet smile.

So what do I want? Sex? Or a possible relationship? Because at the moment, I’m currently presented with both options, but I don’t know which I want more.

I know this all stems from my damaging breakup with Lily. But I am as much to blame as she is. No, I never forced her to fuck my best friend, but I also never dealt with my emotional scars at the time, and now look what I’ve turned into—a commitment-phobe.

Massaging my temples, I really am in no state of mind to be counseling anyone today. The wise thing to do would be to take the afternoon off. Just as I’m about to call Ms. Vale and ask her to cancel the rest of my appointments, she buzzes me through the intercom.

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