Page 91 of Mad As Hell

“Look, if Ryan’s turning down sex, that could mean one of two things,” she began. “Either he’s decided to become a monk—”

I snorted.

“—or,” she went on, talking over the noise I’d made, “he’s really serious about you.”

“How can he be serious about me when he’s not even kissing me?” I demanded, pushing myself up to my elbows and glaring at her.

She gave me a look that said I was an idiot. “Maddie, he’s trying to show you that he wants more than sex. Besides, I thought you were still very anti-forgiveness.”

“I was. I mean, I am.”

She stared at me until I relented.

“Okay, so maybe all of this close proximity to him has my hormones going crazy. Or maybe I’ve got Stockholm Syndrome—that’s a thing, right?”

“It is,” she agreed, “but I don’t think it applies. There could be a little bit of a savior thing going on here.”

“Because of Adam?” I picked at a thread on the comforter. I’d told Bex what had happened that night and that I’d asked Ryan to stay with me. She also knew Adam was dead, but I hadn’t shared my mostly unconfirmed suspicions about how and why he’d really died.

She came over and sat beside me. “Maddie, it’s okay to change your mind. Yes, Ryan broke your heart. But if you want to forgive him, that doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you human.”

“Can’t we keep emotions out of it? I’d rather focus on the physical. Ryan and I are great at that.” Or, we had been.

She chuckled and slapped my thigh before getting up and resuming the task of finding me an outfit. “That’s my point, Mads. He’s trying to show you he wants more than that. He wants all of you.”

I’d opened my mouth to argue when the floor shook.

No, the whole goddamn building shook.

Just as fast as it started, it stopped.

“What the hell was that?” I breathed, bracing for whatever came next.

Bex barely hid a smile. “That was your first California earthquake.”

“Holy shit.” I looked around, wondering if there was any damage. “Should we leave the building? Does it need to be cleared for safety?”

“Mads, it was barely a blip, and all these buildings are earthquake proof. It’s really okay.”

“It’s really not,” I insisted. “The ground isn’t supposed to do that.”

“Do what? Get more action than you?” she teased.

I groaned because dammit, she was right. And that wasn’t fair.

“But can’t he at least want some sex?” I groused, my lips turning down. “It’s not like I can even get myself off when he’s in bed next to me.” My cheeks burned with mortification at the thought.

Bex, however, cracked up. “I mean, that might be the tipping point. If he sees your fingers in his cookie jar? He’d probably take some action.”

I scowled. “It’s my cookie jar. And that is a weird metaphor.”

She shrugged. “Well, you’re a weird girl.”

I threw a pillow at her head and missed. “I need a new friend.”

“No you don’t,” she sing-songed, finally pausing her perusal of my closet on a blue halter dress with an open back and slightly flared skirt.

My eyes widened. “No.”

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