Make Me Bad(45)

The waitress returns with our drinks and I glance up to ensure my dad is still chatting with his friend.

My phone vibrates again.

Ben: So what are you up to then?





I nibble on my lip while considering my options. I can’t very well tell him the truth—it’s too pathetic. I decide to be coy instead, throw him off my scent.

Madison: Bad things.





Ben: Gone rogue on me?





Madison: Oh yes. I’m stealing money out of a bank vault as we speak. All black attire, getaway car, the works.





Ben: Huh. From what I can see, it looks like you’re about to eat dinner…





My eyes widen and I jerk my gaze up, scanning the diner.

The place is packed with a mix of old folks and a few young families. It’s the type of crowd who enjoys early bird specials, just like my dad and me. Ben isn’t in here. I would have spotted him immediately. It’s like my brain has a homing beacon on him.

Then movement draws my attention out past the window and sure enough, there he is, standing out on the sidewalk with Andy. They’re both in suits, looking as if they just left work. My stomach clenches tight and I drop my phone on my lap.

Our gazes lock through the glass, and I’m worried when I see mischief lurking in his. It’s clear he’s up to no good even before he mutters something to Andy. They both pivot and change course.

Oh no. Surely he’s not going to…

The door opens and in walks the subject of all my fantasies, tall and intimidating in his navy suit. My stomach drops. My worlds are colliding. He’s not actually going to stay, right? My dad doesn’t know we’re friends.

But, of course, Ben does stay, and worse, while he’s talking to the hostess, he points to the empty booth just two down from ours. She smiles wide and leads them over. Andy shoots me a wave and waggles his eyebrows before he slides into the side of the booth facing away from me. Ben claims the other side, right smack dab in my line of sight.

His smirk is barely hidden.

I’m shaking.

Good thing a rambunctious family of five sits in the booth between us or I’d immediately bolt. One of the kids screams that he doesn’t like spaghetti noodles, just spaghetti sauce. I want to high-five him for the distraction.

“Maddie, you remember Nolan, right?” my dad asks, drawing my attention to his friend. “He and I went to high school together.”

I glance up, my attention stays on Ben. I couldn’t tell you if Nolan was white, black, purple, green, if he had one head or five.

“I haven’t seen you since you were yea high,” he says, holding out his hand just below his hip.

I nod. “I’m good. Thanks for asking. How are you?”

They stare at me like I’m from another planet. Oh shoot. What did he just say?

My dad laughs and shakes his head, making excuses for me that I don’t care to hear. Their conversation drifts into the ether as Ben takes off his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves. I swear to God, the scent of his body wash carries over to me.

I’m dying here.

I reach for my water and guzzle half of it down as Nolan walks away.

My dad frowns. “You okay?”

I nod and my phone vibrates on my lap. I can’t check it. I know it’s Ben. I know it will be a taunting, teasing, make-me-bad text, and I cannot for the life of me survive this meal if I let him get into my head. I force my attention onto my dad and smile.

“I’m fine, just really hungry.”

He snorts. “I would be too if all I ate was rabbit food. You should have ordered a double cheeseburger for yourself. Could use a little meat on those bones.”

Of course. My dad wants nothing more than to fatten me up like a stuffed pig. If he had it his way, we’d be slathering cheese on every one of our meals.

The way Ben positions himself, he makes it so I can’t look at my dad without seeing him. He’s there, filling up the entire restaurant, his presence so impossible to ignore that I start to sweat.

My phone vibrates again and my dad frowns.

“You need to take that?”

I reach down to turn my phone off, but before I do, Ben’s words catch my eye.

Ben: I have a challenge for you.





I suck in a breath.

“Maddie?” my dad asks.

I clear my throat. “It’s nothing. The bank.”

Clearly my taunt about a bank heist is still on my mind.

“The bank?” he asks skeptically. “Since when do they send texts?”

“I’m sorry.” I shake my head and turn off my phone. Get it together. “Not the bank, just some spam thing. Oh look, they turned the game on.”

I point to the small TV mounted over the bar. Some sports team is on there, running around a sports field catching sports balls of one sort or another. I am so distracted. I need to talk to Ben, now. What does he think he’s doing?!

My dad turns to see what I’m talking about and I glare at Ben over his shoulder, hoping to send him a whole slew of warnings with just one glance.

It’s no use. My scowl is met with bold indifference. Those amber eyes are locked on me as he throws an arm across the top of the booth. The cherry on top of the sundae is his barely contained smirk. He’s thinks he’s untouchable. He thinks this is all fun and games. He likes how nervous I am, how uneasy I feel.