She leans into me, her body swaying—no doubt from the alcohol. Her mouth’s on my neck, not kissing, not moving. Just there. I rest one arm on the counter, the other arm going around her waist and pulling her body against mine. The room spins. The voices around me are nothing but loud murmurs.

She whispers my name.

And I lose it.

I pull back just enough so I can see her face.

Her eyes are half hooded.

“Madison?”

She looks up.

And then she smiles.

And I lose it all over again.

My mouth crashes down on hers, but she pushes me away. “Not here,” she says, her eyes darting around us.

I don’t care where. I just want her. So, I grab her hand and hold it all the way home—not just because I want to, but also because her unsteady feet need me to. By the time we get to our building—the alcohol has made its presence well and truly known.

Her chest heaves, matching mine as we stare at each other on opposite sides of the elevator. I ball my fists and hold them behind my back—my only form of restraint from ripping her goddamn clothes off.

The whiskey had done its job. I no longer feel the weight of my past—of everything—pressing down on my chest and choking the air out of me.

I feel free.

And I feel desire.

And lust.

And Madison.

All Madison.

I barely wait for the elevator doors to open. But when they do, I reach for her.

I go for her face.

She goes for my shirt.

We fumble with each other as we make our way to her door.

I pin her against it; my mouth claiming hers.

My hands are all over her while she tries to unlock her door. She retreats, just long enough to get the key in the hole and kick the door open. We enter in a daze. I slam it shut with my foot, my mouth never leaving hers. We trip over ourselves to get to her couch. Her ass hits the arm of it and she falls back, her knees resting over it. I look down at her; her chest rising and falling, her dress hitched up, revealing more of her creamy thighs. I groan and close my eyes, trying to fight the urge to spread her legs, drop to my knees and devour her...

“Ky!”

My eyes snap open. She’s leaning up on her elbows now, watching me curiously. I blink a few times, willing the buzz of the alcohol and the uncontrollable lust to back the fuck off for just one second so I can calm the fuck down.

And then she licks her goddamn lips.

And that’s all it takes.

I lose it.

My mouth crashes down on hers.

Her legs wrap around mine.

I start to remove her sweater; she reaches for the buttons of my shirt. We laugh, clumsily undressing each other. She moans when she undoes the last button of my shirt and her fingers lay flat on my stomach. I try to get her sweater past her elbows, but she’s too busy fumbling with my belt. She leans up slightly, causing me to move back. I watch her face; her unfocused eyes and her overly exaggerated pout. Her lids are heavy as she curses—her eyebrows drawn, fixated on unfastening my belt.

Then she looks up, her chest heaving.

I stay still, waiting for her to finish.

“It won’t...” she murmurs.

Her eyes flick to my belt, and then back up at me.

And I see it—an insecure innocence that has me questioning everything.

“Madison,” I whisper.

“I just...”

I cover her hand with mine. “Madison,” I say, louder, firmer.

With a shaky breath, she gazes back up at me.

I groan internally. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this.”

“What?” she breathes.

I let out a frustrated grunt. I’ll regret this in the morning. Hell, I’ll regret it in five seconds. “I should go home.”

She yanks her hands away and sits taller. “What? Why?”

My eyes roam her face, down her incredible body, and back up again. Yeah, I’m already regretting it. “I just...we’ve been drinking. You’re drunk...and I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Oh,” she whispers, dropping her gaze. “Oh my god...” She lifts her sweater back over her shoulders, hugging it tightly around her. “Okay. Yeah...” She gets off the couch but refuses to look at me.

“Madison?”

She starts toward her door. “No. You’re right. This was...” She opens the door for me but keeps her head lowered. I stand in front of her and try to reach for her hand. She yanks it away and holds it to her chest.

“Will you please look at me?” I beg.

She shakes her head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She stays silent a moment, then her quiet whimper breaks through. “I’m so embarrassed right now. Can you just leave? Please.”

I bend my knees to look in her eyes.

She moves her head to the side, avoiding me.

“Maddy...”

“Please?” she cries.

“Maddy, don’t do this.”

“It’s fine.” She still refuses to look at me as she grabs me by my shirt and spins me around, pushing me out of her apartment. “I just need you to go.”

MADISON

All that time wasted on cherishing the idea of a dinner and movie date...and this is what I get?

What a stupid cliché.

8

KY

Training this morning was a whole lot of fun.

Not.

I was pissed off and angry at the world.

Then Gunner made it worse by existing.

I took out my anger on him.