Push Me, Pull Me by Vanessa Garden

Author:Vanessa Garden [Garden, Vanessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B013U8WZSS
Publisher: Limitless Publishing LLC
Published: 2015-08-24T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

When Martin didn’t say anything right away, I lost control of my patience.

“What, Martin? Spit it out.”

“He’s got Maddie,” he said, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes staring off somewhere faraway.

I stood there for a moment, absorbing this unexpected admission.

“What do you mean he’s got Maddie?”

He groaned. “I mean, he took her back to his hotel room.” He shook his head and turned to rest his hands against the window sill, his head hanging down, his biceps flexed to their full bulging capacity beneath his shirt.

Byron…Maddie…

My thoughts were still hazy, like an instant fog had clouded my brain. I shook my head slightly.

“Like…a kidnapping?”

“No!” He twisted his neck to glare at me as though he couldn’t believe how stupid I was. “Believe me, she went willingly.”

Automatically my eyes moved to where Byron had lain on my bed the night before, only ten hours ago. So he’d moved on from me pretty quickly. For all I knew, he probably hadn’t even turned up at the Tea ‘n’ Tale this morning.

I tried to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in my stomach and instead focussed on my best friend’s feelings. Byron wasn’t really anyone to me, but Madeline was Martin’s girlfriend.

“I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. They probably just talked all night.” I shrugged. “He is pretty interesting.” I bit my bottom lip, surprised by the bitter jealousy erupting inside of me. Our little bedroom talk had been special, special enough—or so I’d thought—to keep me up most of the night, my face stuffed into my pillow so that I could smell him.

“Yeah, like she’d just talk to a guy that looks and sounds like that!” He shook his head and faced me, eyes glassy. “I even find it hard to rope her into a decent conversation for longer than two minutes, let alone all night—and I’m her fucking boyfriend!”

I looked at him in disbelief.

“Then why are you with a girl like that if she doesn’t like talking?” I blurted out all of a sudden, finally finding a voice for what I’d been thinking ever since he hooked up with her.

“Why are you shouting at me? I’m the one who’s suffering here,” he shouted back.

I held my palms up and exhaled.

“Okay, I’m sorry. What I meant to say is that you’re Mr. Talkative, so I imagine you’d want a girl who liked talking as much as you do.” I playfully poked him in the ribs to lighten the mood. “I can hardly shut you up at the best of times.”

Martin met my eyes and sighed before moving in close. He rested both hands on my shoulders, brushing aside my long hair. Martin’s hug when Mum had died had felt right. But this time his touch felt different and sent a panicky feeling racing through my veins.

He inhaled, closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were so intense that for the first time in our long friendship, I felt uncomfortable in his gaze. I shuffled back a little bit, but he stepped forward.

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