The moment he turns his back, I frantically scan the room and when my gaze locks with a familiar pair of stunning green eyes, I don’t know whether to cry in relief, or just damn cry.
This is bordering on becoming ridiculous. Some may call our coincidental meetings fate, serendipity bringing two people together. But I call it a curse, because every time I see her, it’s a constant reminder of what I’ve lost.
She looks just as I remember her, but a billion times better. She looks intoxicating in a low-cut, flowing dress, which accentuates her amazing body. I don’t care that I’m staring, because even if I wanted to look away, I couldn’t. I’m still mesmerized by her, even though her running and screaming for the hills was a sure sign she doesn’t feel the same.
“Doctor?” the waitress says, snapping me out of my stupor.
Madison cocks a daring brow, and I’m so busted. She so saw me flirting with the blonde, and I suddenly wish I’d stuck to my original thought of focusing on work instead of getting laid.
“Thank you,” I reply with a strained smile, and take a seat in the booth.
She places my meal on the table, and bends low, her loose-fitting tee revealing the tops of a pair of amazing breasts. But it’s not her breasts I want. The breasts I want are sitting feet away from me, eyeballing the shit out of me.
“So, I’m really looking forward to tonight,” she says, placing my bill on the tabletop.
Even though Madison can’t hear the exchange, I still squirm in my seat, feeling like a right royal bastard for encouraging this situation in the first place.
“Um, about that,” I say with a sigh. “It’s not going to happen.”
“What?” she replies, taken aback by my honesty.
I could lie, but what would be the point?
“Yes, I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t have accepted this in the first place,” and I reach into my pocket, pulling out the piece of paper with her number on it. “Here,” I say, offering it to her.
Thinking this is some kind of game, she says, “Keep it. You might change your mind.”
I shake my head. “I won’t.” And to prove my point, I rip the piece of paper in half and deposit the tattered pieces on the table.
I know my actions are harsh, but it’s best to be blunt, and by the waitress’s gaping mouth, my actions have been heard, loud and clear.
“Okay, well, your loss,” she defensively says, and walks off in a huff.
Sighing, I look down at my meal and push it away, as I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. The only thing I’m craving is sitting feet away from me, and I don’t know what to do. Raising my eyes, I see that Madison is no longer at her table. I’m not sure why I just refused free, easy sex, because God knows, I haven’t refused it this past month. But seeing Madison has just brought home the fact that I need to kick a habit—her.
26
A Stranger in his Clothing
MADISON
Seeing Dixon after so long was exactly how I predicted it to be—a damn disaster.
My heart sped up the moment I saw him enter the restaurant, looking totally at ease and owning the room with his confidence and poise. However, my heart began racing for an entirely different reason, and that reason was the blonde waitress who zeroed in on him the moment he entered the room. Jealousy like I’ve never experienced before hit me so hard I had to excuse myself and take a breather in the bathroom before I did something I regretted, like claw out her eyes.
When I returned, I saw him openly flirt with her and look like a pig in shit when she gave him her number. But why should I care? I was the one who ran out on him like an insane person, when he did nothing wrong. I was also the one who told him I could never see him again without giving him an explanation why I had such a sudden change of heart. And I was the one who told him he was a mistake, which was a total lie.
Honestly, I couldn’t tell him why I freaked. It’s not something I want to share with anyone, but a small part of me does with Dixon, and that’s what scares me the most. Feeling nothing but kindness and tenderness in his touch showed me that maybe, just maybe, I have a second chance at living a normal life.
But then I went and screwed it up.
When I left Dixon’s that night, I knew there was something I had to do; I had to tell David it was over. It was unfair to string him along, and I knew he would probably hate me, but I would prefer that than hurt him a second longer.
So for the past month, I have focused on school, and have purposely not focused on how I messed things up with Dixon. I know he would never give me another chance, but honestly, I really need to deal with my demons before I go and be intimate with anyone ever again.
However, after being worshipped by Dixon, I don’t want to experience that with anyone other than him. The way he touched me was unlike anything I have ever felt. I found a new sense of freedom in my physical liberation with Dixon, but that all went to hell, thanks to my meltdown.
Plain and simple, I’m scared. And I’d rather be scared and push Dixon away, than get hurt, because with Dixon that hurt will almost certainly result in tears, heartache, and pain. So staying away is better for everyone.
My apprehension about opening up has me standing in front of my hotel mirror, trying to look enthused for my breakfast date with Dixon, but it’s going as expected—terrible. When Dr. Wellington proposed having breakfast with Dixon, I couldn’t say no. I was honored he even asked me to attend this event with him in the first place, as I know how prestigious it is.
I just have to suck it up and deal because this is for the best. I can act professional, and I sure as hell can pretend that Dixon never inflamed my body with his gentle mouth and needy hands. Thanks to his flirty encounter with the Barbie Doll, I now have the fuel to douse any nostalgia I may feel, because it’s obvious he’s moved on, and now it’s my turn to do the same.
“Everything okay?” Dr. Wellington asks while I nervously fidget with the napkin in my lap.
“Oh, yes, I’m fine,” I reply, guiltily meeting his concerned eyes. “I’m just feeling a little off-color.”
“Oh, dear, you should have mentioned something earlier. Would you like to go back upstairs?” he kindly suggests, but I shake my head, as I’m determined to make it through this one breakfast and prove to myself, and to Dixon, that I’ve moved on.
But that statement is quickly revoked when I smell the most delicious fragrance known to mankind float through the room. I know in a heartbeat who’s wearing that heady scent. It belongs to the owner of that deep, husky voice, which has my entire body spreading out in goose pimples the moment he opens his mouth.
“Good morning,” Dixon says, addressing the table, while I choke on…air.
Subtly coughing, I hope my asphyxiation passes before I have to face the hottest man on the planet. Thankfully it does, and I raise my eyes to meet his, but the moment I do, I almost choke once again.
“Good morning, Dixon,” Dr. Wellington says, oblivious to my sudden inability to breathe.
“Max,” he replies, giving him a small nod, but his eyes never leave mine.
“This is Madison and Alex.” Dr. Wellington introduces us, unaware I know Dr. Mathews in a personal way.
That thought has me thinking about someone else who probably also knows Dr. Mathews personally, and that would be the little tart from last night.
With that vision in mind, I straighten my spine and extend my hand. “Lovely to meet you, Dr. Mathews.”
Dixon happily accepts it, and I tell my body to stop somersaulting in excitement the moment our hands touch.