CHAPTER FIFTEEN Mad Bell

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Mad Bell

I was more irritated than usual.

All damn day I knew shit was coming. I couldn't hide from it, not even in the kitchen.

The silent snickers. The smirks, like they were getting one over on me. The buzz that celebration was right around the corner.

I'd like to say I couldn't feel it in the air, but the truth was, my brothers weren't smooth, not even a little bit. It was so fucking obvious it was downright embarrassing.

Except I didn't share in that thrill, and I really didn't like being on the "surprise" end of a so-called surprise party.

It wasn't a surprise. Not even close. Every year I knew it was coming, and even though I knew it, I still fuckin' showed up to work, wishing that somehow the whole damn club had forgotten it was my damn birthday.

"What's that, Grumpy Grandpa?" Maisy asked with humor in her damn tone.

"I didn't fuckin' say anything," I muttered, keeping my back to her. I knew I wasn't old but the "Grandpa" part of that jab really got under my skin me today.

"Well, you grunted. Which is a noise people usually make when they are unhappy about something. I was just wondering what was going on with that."

I hated how she could poke me the right way and the wrong way at the same time. And I hated how I was a million times more agitated knowing she was in on the not-so-sneaky birthday celebration. Maybe, for once, I wanted her to be on my side. Or if not on my side at least unaware of the shit that was about to happen to me.

But no.

No such fuckin' luck. And it irked me beyond reason.

Maybe it was too much to hope that we'd had a true breakthrough. Too much to wish that things were different between us.

It probably didn't help that I'd spent the last two days jacking off to her sexy smirk and hot body while imagining holding onto her thick hips while I pounded into her from behind.

And there I went again. Somehow I hadn't been able to shove those thoughts out of my mind as of late. That was another thing that was pissing me off.

"I don't want it," I muttered.

"What did you say?" she asked, but where I expected snark and laughter in her tone, I was met with genuine curiosity, like she hadn't really heard me.

"I don't want it." I sighed. My shoulders slumped as I tossed two beef patties on the grill, letting the sizzle drown out whatever weird moment the universe was trying to throw at us.

I did my best to ignore her presence as I dropped a batch of fries in the fryer and finished up the burgers, maybe taking an extra minute to make sure the toppings were picture-perfect and the buns weren't even the slightest bit crooked. Yeah, I was stalling. Because I just had this feeling that the moment I turned around, there would be no getting away from the questions that were pinging around in her head.

I turned, baskets in hand, and headed for the window. She wasn't behind me this time. It was the perfect opportunity for her to fuck with me, yet she wasn't. Still, I was on alert, waiting for her to poof in like a damn magician and smack the top of my bell. The baskets slid across the ledge and she didn't move in. I hit the bell, keeping my back to her because I knew my face held a look of confusion. Instead of taking relief in this rare moment, I was more cautious. Why was she… not fucking with me? It was there for the taking. I wasn't even trying to move fast.

When I turned around she was staring at me with something in her eyes I couldn't read. There was almost a softness there.

Shit had been weird between us. And it kept getting weirder. I didn't know what the hell to do with it.

It all came back to the chili thing. There had been a shift when she'd tried to make things right. I'd say it was the moment she'd agreed to help me when things started to change. Something about the way she said yes right away as if backing out was never an option. She might have signed me up to piss me off, as some huge joke, but she'd wanted me to do it. She had wanted to push me to do it. But I couldn't figure out why.

Something deep inside of me said it was because she cared. It all came back to that fuckin' love language shit that Villain had filled my head with. Even deeper down, I think I wanted her to care.

It was fucked.

I didn't want to deal with it, but I was starting to think I couldn't put it off for much longer.

The woman was in my head. She filled my thoughts. Her scent was the only thing I could smell, even over the grease and meat. Her little laugh was the only thing I could hear.

Had I really been missing the signs all along? Or were things different now? Had something changed?

I stomped my way to the corner and washed my hands.

She was there, right behind me and so close I could feel the heat radiating off of her. Yet she kept her distance. I feared turning around. I'd either be disappointed that she wasn't close enough to touch or unsure of what to do if she was.

"Maddie?" My name was a whisper on her lips. Something about it didn't feel teasing this time, and I couldn't say how I felt about it.

"Don't," I snapped a little harsher than I'd meant to. "I don't want pity. I just want… things simple. Is that too much to ask?"

I turned around and finally faced her. There was a softness in her expression that I wanted to live in. It was sweet and caring. A little knowing and understanding. It wasn't pity. It wasn't sympathy. It was everything I never knew I needed.

All of this over a stupid fuckin' birthday celebration.

Wow, I sounded like the biggest brat on the planet.

"They do it because that's what family does," she said. When I met her gaze, there was a longing that I'd never seen before.

It hit me. Hit me really fuckin' hard.

I didn't know shit about her outside of this place. I only had myself to blame since I'd never taken the time to get to know her. Never asked questions that you would ask someone you cared about— someone you wanted to get to know because they were important to you.

"No one celebrates your birthday?" I asked, unaware of the significance of this moment until after the question had left my mouth. I held my breath as I waited for the answer, praying she'd give me a piece of her— unguarded and real.

She smirked and shrugged.

"I'm not exactly talking to my family right now," she replied, but it wasn't a full answer. It felt more like a cop- out to me. I was itching to ask about her family and why she wasn't talking to them. As I realized how much it bothered me, I couldn't snuff out the rage that bubbled up inside of me. Rage that wanted blood from those who made her feel like she was less than worthy of the world. "Not that it matters, my dad isn't really big on birthdays anyway. I think it was more about him not wanting to have a million girls running around the house for a sleepover birthday party than him not caring enough to celebrate it."

She let out a huffed laugh, it felt forced and hollow.

"Birthdays weren't a top priority with my family," I admitted. "So I get it."

Our eyes locked and the air crackled between us.

I never shared anything about my family or my past. Not with my brothers. Not with anyone. Part of me wished she would realize what a big deal this was, while the other part of me prayed she would forget I said anything.

Before either of us could acknowledge the intense moment we were stuck in, boisterous laughter and hoots rose up and floated into the kitchen. I tried to hide my sigh as my brothers summoned me out to party. I couldn't escape it, but maybe I didn't really want to.

I rolled my eyes, though it was mostly for show. Maisy sent me a supportive smile as I brushed by her.

"Hey," she said as her fingers lightly wrapped around my forearm. I turned to face her once again. "We're lucky, you know?"

"Yeah? How's that?" I asked, taking a step closer to her until she had to tilt her head slightly to hold my gaze.

"Because I have my best friend and you have them," she whispered like we were sharing a secret. Her head dipped in the direction of the rowdy crowd that wasn't going to let me hide in here much longer. "We have people who make us feel special even when the people who should make us feel that way the most don't." She paused and sent me a smile. It wasn't a huge smile but it said so much. "They care about you. All they want is to make sure you know how important you are to them."

I took in her words. I wanted to argue because I was convinced it was more an excuse for them to party hard, but I couldn't say that to her. Whether or not she was right, I was going to leave it. Maybe I was even going to choose to believe it just a little.

"Now," she released me with a smirk, "go have fun. Get drunk off your ass. And enjoy being an old man."

I scowled at her.

Way to ruin the moment.

"I'll do your kitchen right, Chef. I promise," she called out as I stepped foot into the hall.

For once, I didn't stress out about it.

Maybe I would get drunk off my ass and enjoy the night.