Page 36 of Wicked Dix

“Evening, Mr. Amos.”

“Good evening, Dr. Mathews. I’m sorry to intrude, but I seem to have your mail by mistake,” he replies, producing a wad of letters.

I raise an eyebrow, my heart beginning to pick up the pace. “Thank you for bringing them over. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s not a problem at all. We must have a new mailman. George would never make such an error,” he says, each worddrawn out. I’m convinced that the older people get, time no longer exists to them.

“Yes, you just may be correct.” I’m practically bouncing on the spot, waiting for him to get the hint and leave. Thankfully, he does.

“Well, good night. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He winks, and I let out a strained laugh and a quick goodbye before shutting the door in his face.

Extremely rude, I know, but I’ll make it up to him when I don’t possibly have a letter from Madison in my hands. I throw letter after letter over my shoulder, as most are bills.

“C’mon,” I mumble under my breath.

The commotion has Hunter turning to look at me while I litter my home with insignificant junk. “Where’s the pizza?” I ignore him and continue hunting through the stack of letters. It has to be in here.

As I near the bottom of the pile, my optimistic heart begins a slow decline into despair until I see a white envelope with my name written in a beautiful script. “Yes! Motherfucking yes!” I exclaim, tearing into the envelope with eager fingers.

Taking a deep breath, I open the seal but halt when I see a coaster inside. “What in the hell?” I mutter, my brow crinkling in confusion.

Tipping the envelope upside down, the coaster slips into my palm. Thanks to my outburst, Hunter is now standing by my side, also looking down in confusion.

“I don’t get it,” he says, tipping his head to the side.

“I don’t either.” Why would Madison send me a Bud Light coaster? Is this a hint that she’s been resorting to alcohol to deal with our fight? Or that I’m to drown my sorrows because she’s not coming?

“Who’s it from?” he asks, reaching for the envelope and turning it over. His action gives me an idea and I do the same thing with the coaster.

What I see has a string of profanities leaving me.

I’ll be there…

Holy shit! She’s coming.

Hunter looks down and lets out a sigh in understanding.

This is beyond words. And the fact she’s written it on the back of something readily available to her at work proves that I’ve been on her mind.

“This,” I say, holding up the coaster in front of his face, “makes everything worth it, my friend.Shemakes everything worth it.” Unable to hold back my excitement, I cup Hunter’s cheeks and plant a big kiss on his lips. It’s not a kiss per se, more like a slamming of lips for a millisecond.

“Eww, get the fuck off me! Save your kisses for your girl,” he states, pushing me away with a grin while wiping his mouth.

“This is fucking amazing!” I say, ignoring his staged disgust. “This calls for a drink.”

“This calls for ten drinks. I need to clean the doctor from my palate.”

“Ah, c’mon, you know you liked it,” I tease, walking to the kitchen. My bad mood instantly evaporates, and just like that, I’m me again.

I may feel like an ass for choosing the road that I have, but knowing a reconciliation with Madison may be on the horizon makes me forget my sins and focus on why I chose the coward’s way out.

As I open my fridge, Hunter’s humor dissolves my last trace of worry. “I now see why the chicks dig you, Dix. Five more seconds andIwould be blackmailing you to have sex with me.”

And just like that, weirdly enough, everything is where it should be.

Ihave no idea what I’m doing here, but the masochist in me has me locking my car door and walking toward the address Dixon gave me.

His letter sits in my pocket, as it has since the moment I received it. Who would have thought a simple thing like a letter could be life-changing? But that’s exactly what this letter is.

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