Page 21

Back in Highschool: Rhue

“What can you tell me about Wounded Knee?” Madison asks from the guest chair in my father’s study.

We’ve got the whole house to ourselves. The big man’s coming back later.

Mom is elbow deep in Halloween preparations, thanks to Laura.

I can’t say that the timing has been more perfect. But I also can’t say it hasn’t.

I eye her carefully. “Almost three hundred Lakota people were killed that day.”

“Location?”

She’s jotting stuff down on post-it notes and sticking them on different pages of a book titled “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee.” We’ve only just started this session, but I knew we were going to discuss Native American history, and the Wounded Knee Massacre is one of the key points of any honest and truly comprehensive history book.

It’s one of the many things I have learned to appreciate about Madison.

She looks beyond the norms and the traditional ways of doing things.

She teaches more and far beyond the school curriculum, too.

The girl’s got passion. So much so that I could see her behind the Resolute Desk someday.

Or perhaps on top of it. My dad thinks I’ve got presidential material but nah, I’m too much into hockey and too little into being like him.

“Pine Ridge,” I say. “It started with the Army’s attempt to disarm the entire reservation.”

She looks up from her notes. “Have you ever read this book?” She closes it and hands it over. I take a moment to check its cover, first, then shake my head.

“Please, do. If you give it two hours a day, it’ll be done within the week, tops.”

“I still have hockey training,” I chuckle, though I am genuinely interested in reading it. Truth be told, I am interested in anything Madison might want me to do. I guess it’s what makes her such a good tutor, at least with a participating student like me.

“I don’t care when or how you read it. There’s an audiobook version available, too, just be advised I left you some notes in that paperback,” Madison replies. Whew, she is not in the mood for games, it seems. Too bad for her. I’m feeling playful.

“Good grief, you have no idea how hot you are when you talk like this,” I reply.

It brings red roses to full bloom in her cheeks as she tries to avoid my gaze. “We’re doing important work here.”

“We both know the educational side of this endeavor is not the only reason we’re spending time together,” I say. She loves using long-winding arguments to confuse people, but two can play that game. Madison has a dangerously brilliant mind, but I’m not just a hockey jock, either.

“Rhue, we really shouldn’t go down this road again,” Madison sighs, shaking her head as she shifts uncomfortably in the armchair.

She’s wearing this tight little turtleneck dress, red as blood wool softly wrapped around her delicious curves. But it’s the black leather biker boots that really do it for me.

The dress is supposed to be the nice side of her, the preppy good girl side. The boots scream rebel, and her long legs and sculpted knees make me ache with desire. I’d like nothing more than to lose myself inside of her.

None of the girls I’ve been with so far have riled me up the way Madison does.

I’m standing by one of the bookcases, within feet of her.

Placing the book she just gave me on a nearby side table, I move closer.

“It’s hard for me not to when everything you say is in direct opposition of what your body says,” I reply.

“All I can do right now is promise you that this…this thing between us, it’s real.

That we’re not imagining it. And if you’re afraid of my father, of my family name, well, you shouldn’t be. ”

“Rhue…” She’s about to give me the whole it’s-not-about-you speech, but today isn’t the day I’m going to let her get away with it. Today, the fire inside me burns brighter and hotter. I have to do something about it and putting distance between us is not the answer.

I slide down to my knees, coming to a rest directly in front of her.

I place my hands over hers on the leather armrests.

She can’t go anywhere. Not while I’m standing in her way like this.

It’s a good thing, too, because Madison looks like she’d run off the second I back off, yet her lips part slowly, quivering with desire.

“Tell me you don’t think about me half as much as I think about you. ”

“This is wrong,” she sighs. “It’s dangerous.

You wouldn’t care. Your parents will sort everything out for you.

But I’ve got something to lose. The last thing I want is to put my future in jeopardy because of your family.

Taking this tutoring gig was already risky enough.

Everybody in the study group warned me about you. ”

I’m flustered, all of a sudden, and wondering if this revelation should annoy or flatter me.

“Oh? You were warned how, exactly? What is it about me that scares the seniors of Brighton High School?”

She’s hesitating. I think she thinks she said too much, and now she’s focused on trying to figure out how to do some kind of damage control.

“You know what? Never mind. It doesn’t even matter. People like to talk, I don’t mind letting them,” I tell her. “If you think you can’t make up your own mind about me, then so be it. But I thought you were Mensa material, not another airhead sheep.”

That hits her deep. She gives me a hard stare, her lips now pressed into a thin line. Still dangerously kissable, still appetizing enough to make me lose my senses and my manners.

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” she says.

“That’s your most valuable asset, isn’t it?

” I reply. “Don’t squander it, then. Whatever the rumors you may have heard about me and my family, Madison, why not try to see for yourself?

Have I given you any cause for concern whatsoever?

” She shakes her head once. Well, that’s a no.

“Have I threatened you?” Again, I get a no.

“Has anyone in my family so much as looked at you funny?” There it is.

The third no. “Then what we’re actually dealing with here is you and your rather childish fears. ”

It sets her off. “Excuse me?”

“You’re so gorgeous when you’re angry.”

“Rhue, have you lost your goddamn—” I kiss her.

I kiss Madison Willis with everything I’ve got, crushing her soft lips against mine.

She’s sweet. Dangerously sweet. I let my tongue go in to do some more exploring.

Velvety soft, her tongue meets mine, and we clash for a moment that’s not nearly long enough.

Madison moans gruffly, likely a protest. But lava roams through my veins, now, melting my muscles and spreading through every inch of me, while my pants become impossibly tight in the crotch. I want her so damn bad. Her lilac scent, the taste of honey and raw sex.

My cock jumps with delight at the prospect of taking this further, but then Madison pulls back.

“Rhue.” she whispers my name like it’s an apology.

I brace myself for the separation and pull back.

All the atoms in my body are buzzing, and the sight of her flush and slightly swollen lips only makes me want to bury my tongue between her lips again.

But fuck it. I must control myself. We’re only just getting started.

Madison holds her breath, her gaze fixed on me.

“I had to,” I say, trying not to smile.

“Rhue.”

“Jeez, don’t do this again,” I reply, unwilling to let her push me away. “We’ll go slow and figure out what this is about. You’ve already confirmed that we’ve got something happening here. What’s the harm in giving us a shot?”

She’s uncertain. I see desire and hope flaring in the blue pools of her eyes.

She bites her lower lip, and I want to do the same.

“I don’t know,” Madison finally concedes.

“Just think about it. I’ll back away if that’s what you really want. But you need to be certain. You need to be absolutely certain, because everything about you is telling me the exact opposite.”

“You know what? You’d make a better politician than you think,” Madison replies and shoots up from the armchair.

I stumble backwards but let her go. She rushes out of the study while I’m smiling with profound satisfaction.

It’s what she does when she’s overwhelmed.

She runs away. But just before she completely leaves my line of sight, she glances back at me.

There’s so much fire in her eyes. It’s as though she’s contemplating whether or not she really should leave, or whether she wants to stay and finding out just how much we could mean to each other; just how good we would feel with each other.

“Don’t overthink things, Maddie,” I say.

She shakes her head at me and smiles. “You already know I will.”