I scramble for the blankets and quickly cover my lap, hoping I appear nonchalant as I reply, “The one with the plastic panel at the bottom.”

“Okay, great, thanks,” and she disappears as quickly as she appeared.

Taking a deep breath, I decide to try again, but the moment I kick off the covers and attempt to stand up, Madison’s face reappears in my doorway.

“Is it okay to use your landline?”

Quickly sitting back down and hastily crossing my leg over my tenting erection, I awkwardly attempt to look relaxed by resting my elbow on my thigh and leaning into my palm. “Of course,” I reply with a strained smile, drumming my fingers against my cheek.

Madison looks at me strangely, but thankfully doesn’t address my sudden insanity and nods. “Okay, thanks.” And her face vanishes once again.

I wait a full minute, just in case she has any other questions, but when I’m in the clear, I practically jump up and run to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Letting out a deep breath, I look at my reflection in the mirror, and my rampant hard-on stares back, begging me to put it out of its misery. I feel disgusting doing this with Madison in the next room, but it’s either this, or I end up dry-humping her leg by lunchtime.

Turning on the shower, I strip down and step into the scorching heat, as opposed to the traditional cold one. Whoever said a cold shower is the remedy for a raging libido is a damn fool. I’ll take heated water, soap, my hand, and images of Madison’s agile body lying next to me any day over hypothermia.

Lathering up some soap, I grip my rock-hard dick and begin the dance we’ve danced many times before. But this time, my dance partner has two left feet, and I can’t seem to find my rhythm. I don’t know why. I brace one hand against the tiled wall and try for a different angle, but it’s pointless. I’m off when I shouldn’t be, because there’s no doubt that I want to come.

I stroke harder, and yes, it feels fucking amazing, but as I hear Madison laugh, I know the reason I can’t cross the finish line is because of her, which is ironic, seeing as she’s the cause of my hard-on. But I feel beyond disgusting jerking off with her a few feet away. I mean, what would she think if she knew I was currently beating off, using her as my inspiration?

“What is this woman doing to me?” I sigh, lightly thumping my forehead against the shower wall as I let go of my junk.

Giving up, I wipe an exhausted hand down my face while the other reaches for the faucet and turns the water to cold.

With my teeth chattering and my body shivering, I look down at my semi-flaccid cock and grunt, “I hope you’re happy, you damn pussy.”

We’re on the hunt for coffee, and I’m blindly following Madison, who said she’s got it covered. I have no idea what that means, but funnily enough, I trust her. If it were Juliet, however, then I would expect “coffee” to be a code word for adult superstore, but I know Madison would never be so crude.

Looking at the small angelo beside me with nothing but a skip to her step, I realize how at ease I am with her. I know she has a past, but don’t we all? Sadly, my past is about to leave me percolated and foaming at the mouth.

We stop in front of a Starbucks, and Madison opens her arms out wide. “Ta dah!”

I cock an eyebrow. “I don’t get it.”

Madison laughs, screwing up her nose. “Duh, coffee is served. I know the owner, so coffee is on me.”

I now understand what she meant by her “having ways.” Although, I do prefer my way over hers.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I ask, needing clarification, “Ah, you want to go in here?”

Madison nods, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Yes. They sell coffee, don’t they? What are you waiting for?” She tugs on my arm, while my feet remain firmly rooted to the sidewalk.

Madison jerks forward and almost trips over her feet when I don’t budge an inch. Turning to look at me over her shoulder, she raises both eyebrows. “Are you all right? You look like you’re about to…cry?” she half teases, but I can hear the concern in her voice.

“Cry?” I scoff, barely containing the edge to my tone. “I just don’t like Starbucks. It’s too trendy, not to mention their flamboyant, ridiculous names for coffee are downright ludicrous. How about we go to a little cafe up the road where they sell proper coffee and biscotti?” I nod, hoping she comes quietly and willingly.

But of course she does neither.

“How about you tell me what you have against Starbucks?” she says, crossing her arms across her chest stubbornly.

“I don’t have anything against them, per se,” I reply, clearing my throat.

“So why won’t you go inside?” she asks, cocking her head to the side, awaiting my reply.

Goddamnit, Madison is as stubborn as she is beautiful. Another quality I like about her. Looking at her hard resolve, I know she won’t let this go until I tell her the truth.

“I met my ex…fiancée in a Starbucks, and I guess I associate all Starbucks with her. I’m sure you can guess how this story ends,” I confess, feeling utterly ridiculous.

Madison’s eyes widen at my sad, pathetic story, but she doesn’t throw me a pity party. “Oh, I guess that’s as good a reason as any.”

I nod, putting my hands in my jeans pockets. “Yeah, I guess,” I reply, hating that, as usual, Lily is ruining my day.

But once again, Madison surprises me as she says, “You’re right, Starbucks is a little trendy. And besides,” she adds, “you had me at biscotti. Lead the way, Dr. Mathews.” She smiles, waiting for me to make the first move.

I stand speechless, staring at this mystical creature before me. She really is too good to be true, as I know her Starbucks spiel was entirely for my benefit.

Offering her my hand, she looks at it for a heartbeat, but then links her fingers through mine and smiles. “So, what flavor biscotti do they have?”

I can’t help but laugh at her obvious derailment, but I welcome it. I rattle off the long list of sweets the cafe, Dolci’s, has available, and Madison listens intently, smacking her lips at the endless options.

As we walk hand in hand on a Sunday morning, I can’t help but think how natural this feels. Sadly, I have to remind myself that Madison is currently seeing David the douche nozzle, and this can never extend into anything other than friendship while he’s in the picture. I don’t like it, but Madison is a big girl and if she chooses to date primates, then I have to respect her decision.

When we arrive at Dolci’s, I automatically push open the door for Madison, which is something I haven’t done for a very long time.

“Dixon!” Concetta shrieks from behind the counter.

“Good morning, Concetta,” I reply with a smile, as the elderly lady hobbles out and gives me a kiss on both cheeks.

“Dove sei stato?” she asks, scolding me for being MIA.

“I’ve been busy with work,” I reply in English, as Madison looks completely lost in translation.

“You work too hard,” Concetta says with a thick Italian accent. “Look at you. You’re too skinny. Here sit, sit. I will make you frittelle di ricotta and bring some pane.”

I laugh as she escorts us over to a booth. “Thank you, but just coffee and those biscotti.” I point to the endless display of baked goods. “This is Madison, by the way,” I add, and Madison smiles.

“Nice to meet you,” she says, and she surprises me as she bends forward, giving Concetta two kisses on the cheek before taking a seat.

When Concetta looks at me approvingly, I know what she’s thinking.

“You are a principessa,” she says, and Madison giggles.

“Thank you. I think.”

Concetta cackles, patting my arm. “Mi piace il suo,” she says, voicing her approval of Madison before heading over to the coffee machine.

Taking a seat, I look over at Madison, who’s looking around the store in awe.