CHAPTER NINETEEN Maisy

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Maisy

I was being stupid.

Yes, I knew it. And, yes, I could admit it.

Maybe I shouldn't have left before Mad Bell woke up. Or maybe I needed to stop thinking about it because I had done the right thing.

Ugh! It was so hard to tell, and Mad Bell wasn't giving me anything. Not even a hint that he remembered the night we shared. But what if he was following my lead, and my fucking lead had been to go to work the next shift and go on like usual, breezing through my duties with a smile and occasional jab in his direction.

This was a mess. I was a fucking mess.

The broken machine gun meow that came from the back of the couch confirmed that I was even more of a mess than my cat, or so she thought.

"You're not helping," I told her, no harshness in my tone. She knew I loved her, even if she didn't love me back. Or was it… she loved me in her own way? I honestly wasn't sure.

I received a hiss this time as she darted off the back of the couch, claws digging into the fabric so it made a tearing sound.

This wasn't like me, yet here I was, overthinking and slightly obsessing. All because I'd come to care for the Prickly Patty Prepper.

There was only one thing to do. I pulled out my phone.

"Stella, I need you," I whined when she answered the call.

Her laugh was like wind chimes floating through the speaker. I instantly felt calmer.

"I'm all yours. Lay it on me," she said like the most awesome friend that she was.

Seriously, I didn't know what I'd do without her.

I flopped sideways on the couch and then rolled onto my back. My phone went on speaker and I set it on my chest.

"I like him," I said and instantly rolled my eyes at myself. When had I reverted back to a twelve-year-old?

"Mad Bell?"

"Yes!" I playfully yelled.

She giggled like it was the funniest thing. I'd say she'd reverted with me, but Stella had always been one of those quiet gigglers, almost holding it in the back of her throat so people wouldn't hear. Honestly, it was the cutest thing, but she hated it when I pointed it out in that way, so I'd stopped a long time ago.

"I slept with him and now I think I'm being stupid," I admitted with a sigh.

"You did?" She sounded so surprised.

"I did and I left before he woke up. To be fair, he didn't ask me to stay."

"I'm not even sure what to say…" There was a hint of teasing in her tone.

"I know. I think I'm just as shocked as you are. I don't even know how it happened…" I drifted off as I filled her in a little on how the night started off. How we'd shared a moment in the kitchen where we felt kind of… connected. Then how he'd caught me by the exit, and how I didn't even try to resist him. I kept the sordid details to a minimum because Stella didn't want to hear those kinds of things, but I gave her enough to get the picture.

Five times. Even now, as I remembered how each round started and ended, I couldn't believe we'd fucked that many times. Or how sweet he'd been after. The way he made sure my hair was out of my face or I was covered when the sweat started to dry and a chill settled over my skin. It wasn't over the top, but he showed enough care to get under my skin in a way I couldn't shake— a good way. Which might have had something to do with why I ran. Not only was I confused about what the whole night meant, but I was also scared that if I let myself, I could easily fall for him.

"And after all of this, you realize that there could be something there?" she asked once I was finished.

"No… yes? I don't know. I'm fucking hopeless, Stella. I'm still coming to grips that I actually like him after nearly a year of thinking he hated me and I only aggravated him because I thought he hated me. Like, what the hell do I do now?!"

"I think it's cute," she said. "You know… you've never really been this way over someone."

My mouth fell open. There was a name on the tip of my tongue, I swore. I had to have had a crush on someone before. Right?

"I know you're sitting there going over all the men you've ever fancied." I tried really hard not to laugh at her term. "I'm here to tell you, as someone who has been right by your side throughout most of your life, there hasn't been anyone like Mad Bell." She paused to give me a moment to take in her words. I found I couldn't deny them, but I was also finding it hard to believe. "You've always gone after what you wanted, but you've never stopped to get actual feels for anyone."

Damn, she was totally right. I lost my virginity at a party to a guy who I knew from school. We weren't friends, we barely knew each other, but he was there and hot. He was interested, and while he had been gentle, I didn't walk away drawing hearts around our names. The same went for most of my boyfriends. They were more like time fillers. Cute or hot, smart or maybe funny. But none of them stuck.

Mad Bell had slowly seeped into my mind. He'd surrounded my heart like honey, thick and sticky and hard to get off.

"Ugh, I'm hopeless," I whined. Most of it was for show.

"Yeah, you are."

"Thanks," I grumbled. "I thought you were supposed to be my friend. And good friends support one another. Where is my support? Huh? My love?"

"It's called tough love, and it's what you need right now."

"So what am I supposed to do about it?" I asked as I rubbed my forehead. I felt a headache coming on. Probably my body giving me any excuse to avoid this whole thing.

"I've heard talking is good, but I have, like, zero relationship experience, so I probably wouldn't listen to me."

I couldn't hear the sadness in her tone, but I knew it was there. While I'd had a handful of boyfriends, Stella had only had one, and that didn't end well. I sensed she was more lonely than she let onto. I also suspected there was someone she was holding a torch for, but I really hoped it wasn't that one boyfriend she'd had. I felt bad that I was bringing her this drama when the whole relationship thing was hard for her.

"Maybe you're right," I said, a little sour because I didn't want that to be the solution. I wanted her to give me a solution that tasted like ice cream, not one that was more like getting a flu shot.

Talking. Okay, fine. Shouldn't be that hard, right? The thought made me sweat. Mostly because I knew it would sting if he told me he didn't feel the same, if he didn't want to see where this thing between us could go. Then again… I didn't think I was crazy in thinking something had shifted. It had been slow and I could see it in his eyes that it was more than a fuck for the sake of getting off. If I was being honest, knowing that he felt something toward me had changed the game, and now I didn't know how the hell to play it. Not that this was a fucking game. I guessed it was more that I didn't know the rules or what move to make.

Not wanting to talk about boy drama anymore, I went for a changed of subject. Well, I supposed it was man drama since there was nothing boyish about Mad Bell. And there I went again. No more thinking about him today.

"How are things going with the food truck?" I asked.

She sighed heavily because she could read me like a book— not that I wasn't being super obvious.

"It's been good. I feel like I'm slowly gathering a following," she told me, a happy, prideful chime in her tone. She went on about how business was going and the feedback she'd been getting.

We caught up for a bit, though we didn't really have much new to talk about other than what we'd already gone over. I knew things were busy for her and would be for a while. And I kind of had my own stuff going on too. Still, we needed to make time to have a lazy night together and veg out in front of the TV.

"How are things with the family? Have you talked to them?" I could hear the hesitation in her tone as she asked. The night my dad had told me to leave his house, she was the first one I ran to after. She let me sit on her couch in a weird mood after. Though she'd made me vegan black bean brownies, it had been easy to tell that she didn't know what to say. She always knew my dad was an asshole— though she'd never put it that way— but I didn't think she realized how bad of one he could be.

"No," I said, my mood instantly soured. As hard as I tried not to let it show how much it bothered me, it did. Deep down it cut. It was the story of my life when it came to my family, so I shouldn't have been surprised. "Dell has sent me a few messages, but it feels strained. I think he feels stuck in the middle, but he's trying because he wants to, ya know?"

"Dell has always looked out for you," she said. "He's a good guy."

"I know he's the best one in my family, but that doesn't mean that Dad doesn't have some kind of hold over him. I just don't get why he's still there. He's old enough to break away. He could do what he wants instead of being a cop."

"You ever think that being a cop might be what he wants?"

My brows pinched together. Maybe she was right. She somewhat knew Dell. Growing up, we spent the majority of the time at her house, but she did come over to mine and she knew my brothers. However, it had been a long time since we were girls reading teen magazines, and I didn't think she talked or saw Dell that much now.

I had so many questions, but something held me back.

I'd tuck that away for another day.

"I've got to get ready for work," I said. It was a lame cop-out, and we both knew it.

"Talk to him. Be a big girl. If it doesn't work out the way you hope, at least you know and can move on."

"The way you say that makes me uneasy."

"I know," she teased.

"Fine," I said with frustration. "Bye."

I hung up with the sound of her laughter floating through the speaker. It made me smile and I hated it a little.

It was time to be an adult— put on my big girl panties, and all that shit— and get ready for work. I was going to face him.

I had a plan. If things were slow, I'd try to talk to him. Not that talking ever got me anywhere with Mad Bell. I imagined him keeping his back to me and grunting a lot. I just needed him to hear me. One of us had to open the door. It was going to be me and I really hoped he wouldn't slam it in my face when I did.

I was a ball of chaotic and nervous energy as I drove to work. I kept telling myself that it would be okay however it turned out, but it had to happen. There was no point in going on like this, no point in feeling a little stressed out whenever I had a shift.

Talk. Get answers. And move on, if that was what I needed to do.

I walked into the bar, armor on and ready.

But then he never showed up.