8. Madison

eight

Madison

I t's been two and a half weeks since I told Caleb and Owen I didn't want to be with them again, and I'd be lying if I said I was glad they were honoring my wishes. They've become the perfect employees, not too flirty with the female customers and not too cocky with the male customers.

They've done every job at the bar, from bartending, serving, beer backing, and even taking their turn deep cleaning the bar after closing time. Mae said their bookkeeping system is better than hers. She's even learned a thing or two from them.

Just like I asked, the only contact I've had with them has been professional, except for the occasional rub of our bodies as we squeeze past each other behind the bar. I wish I could say they were the ones doing all the rubbing, but I'm the one who's been acting like a cat in heat, rubbing against them every chance I get.

They're fun and charming, winning over all the staff with their stories—everyone except Jared. Jared keeps to himself unless it's a female customer, then he's all over her. Caleb and Owen have had to each step in when Jared was getting too handsy with a customer.

Caleb and Owen are genuine nice guys. They would never be interested in a girl who has sex with two guys at the same time. They deserve a good girl, someone like I used to be. It's not that I regret our night together, but it was just a fantasy.

"Hey, beautiful, why so sad?" Caleb gives me a side hug—the kind you give someone you barely know, not the full-body hug of someone you care about.

But we know each other better than most co-workers. One night, when it was just the three of us, and it was a slow night, I broke down and told them all about John and getting stood up at the altar. They both seemed genuinely concerned and even threatened to beat up my ex if I wanted them to.

I've done the one thing I swore I wasn't going to do—I've fallen for my one-night stands.

"Nothing, everything is fine." I smile, blinking back my tears, sliding out of his embrace.

They'll be leaving in a few days, and then I can get on with my life. Maybe it's time to move on. As much as I love it here in New Orleans, it might be time for a change. There are Sweet Cocktails chains all over the world. I'm sure Mae will put in a good word for me.

"It definitely looks like there's something wrong." When I don't say anything, Owen continues. "I know we don't know you very well, but I'd like to think we've become more than acquaintances, maybe even friends. So why don't you tell us what's wrong."

Owen's right. We're friends, and as friends, I should be able to tell them anything. "I'm thinking about asking Mae if she'll put a good word in for me at one of the other Sweet Cocktails franchises—maybe in New York, Las Vegas, or Rio."

Anger flashes across both of their faces, but it's Owen who speaks first, "Oh Hell, no. You're not going anywhere but to Minnesota with us."

"Excuse me. Who are you to tell me where I can go?" I'm beyond pissed. "Just because we had sex one time."

"It was more like ten times." Caleb looks at Owen for confirmation.

"Technically, she's right. It might have been multiple times, but it was only one night."

"Shut up, both of you. You're starting to give me a headache." I don't care that we're all standing behind the bar and that every customer probably heard all about my sordid sex life. "Ugh, I'm not having this argument with the two of you. Not here, not ever."

I stomp off to the back room, needing to get away from the two of them. It's a good thing it's a slow night, or Mae would have my hide for walking away from paying customers. Not that it matters to me. I'm out of here after I give her my two weeks' notice.

"Madison, wait!"

I automatically turn around at the sound of my name. "What do you want from me? One minute, you want me, and the next, you act like you only want to be pals. I know I said I didn't want anything from you, but you didn't even fight me on it. You just gave in. Like our night together didn't matter—like I didn't matter." The tears stream down my face, and I hate myself for it. My tears are from anger, not sadness.

"Madison, it wasn't like that. We were fighting for you, the only way you would let us." Owen grabs my hand. Holding on tightly like he never wants to let go.

"It was my idea to get close to you without your realizing what we were doing," Caleb adds, grabbing my other hand and holding it just as tightly. "I think it's time we tell you the truth about how we feel about you."

They each take a side and wipe away my tears—their touch making me feel loved and cherished. "I want both of you to come home with me," I repeat the words I spoke to them the first night they came home with me.