than I did when I was in the military. That sounds like an athlete to me.”
“No,” Madison says slowly, “I’m an athlete. I got offers from six division-one NCAA schools for volleyball.”
“Maybe she is an athlete without it being a sport,” Nick adds reasonably. “You could both be right, Madison.”
“Technically, I think it’s consider an art,” Madison replies, annoyed. “Personally, I think it’s a cult.”
Choking, I spit a mouthful of coffee into my cup. My knowledge of dance is anemic, but I didn’t expect that or the derision in her voice. “A cult? Not really?”
Her brows hitch up. “Yes, really. Mind-fuck, dedication and endless commitment. Or haven’t you noticed that everything is about ballet for her, that there is no length she won’t go to succeed, and the rest of her life is only secondary. It’s like they’ve brainwashed her or something. Don’t expect her to have a lot of time for you if you ever do figure out what your relationship with her is”—she makes a face—“or even to have fun this weekend. Krystal doesn’t do fun.”
That was harsh and I’m ready to shut this down, but since I’m going to be guarding Krystal full time soon, getting a better read on her from Madison isn’t a bad idea.
“What do you mean doesn’t do fun ?” I ask cautiously.
Madison exhales heavily. “Fun. You know what fun means. It’s everything we do other than the things we have to do. Fun. You’ve heard of it, right?”
Their laughter irritates me, and I say defensively, “You’re pretty hard on her, seeing as you’re family and all.”
Madison’s face turns red. “If we’re not hard, who will be? I know her better than anyone does. I’m hard on her because we are family. Don’t tell me that you haven’t noticed she’s a little extreme at times, in all the wrong ways, and that it doesn’t worry you.”
“That’s definitely true, Legs,” Nick murmurs, scooping his concoction onto plates.
My gut tightens since I don’t like how they’re bashing Krystal behind her back. “I don’t see her that way at all.”
Madison stabs her eggs with a fork. “Daryl didn’t either. And look where that got him.”
They both shake their heads, and the way they do it puts my nerves more on edge. Oh, they can’t know about what she does with Daryl. Or do they? Things may be different in Southern California, but having your boyfriend tie you up can’t be a normal thing that people talk about. Not even here.
“What are you trying to imply with that?”
Madison looks up from her plate, aggravated. “Oh, simmer down. Please tell me you’re not like Daryl and going to go all caveman on me every time we say anything slightly honest about Krystal. We love her. She’s a great girl, but I don’t think she’s a happy person and I want her to be.”
“That’s all anyone should want for her. I’ve never met anyone like her.”
Madison’s eyes brighten in approval. She crinkles her nose. “I’m sorry—you know? About last night—my saying I didn’t like you. It wasn’t nice, and I don’t know you so I shouldn’t have said it.”
“No big deal. I’m over it.”
An enormous smile claims her face. “Good. I want to have fun this weekend. I won’t see her again for months. None of us will.”
Nick motions with an arm. “Sit down, Jake. Eat.”
I take my chair at the breakfast bar.
I reach for some toast and set it on my plate. “So what are we supposed to do this weekend?”
They look at each other and bust up laughing.
I stare. “What’s so funny?”
“Sorry. No insult,” Nick says through chuckles. “We’re going to do whatever, man.”
OK, no help there to figure out what I’ve gotten myself into. “We’re going to hang out at the beach for three days? Is that the plan?”
“We’re not into that whole have-a-plan thing,” Madison explains, sinking her teeth into her lower lip to hide a smirk. “The beach isn’t a place. It’s a
“No,” Madison says slowly, “I’m an athlete. I got offers from six division-one NCAA schools for volleyball.”
“Maybe she is an athlete without it being a sport,” Nick adds reasonably. “You could both be right, Madison.”
“Technically, I think it’s consider an art,” Madison replies, annoyed. “Personally, I think it’s a cult.”
Choking, I spit a mouthful of coffee into my cup. My knowledge of dance is anemic, but I didn’t expect that or the derision in her voice. “A cult? Not really?”
Her brows hitch up. “Yes, really. Mind-fuck, dedication and endless commitment. Or haven’t you noticed that everything is about ballet for her, that there is no length she won’t go to succeed, and the rest of her life is only secondary. It’s like they’ve brainwashed her or something. Don’t expect her to have a lot of time for you if you ever do figure out what your relationship with her is”—she makes a face—“or even to have fun this weekend. Krystal doesn’t do fun.”
That was harsh and I’m ready to shut this down, but since I’m going to be guarding Krystal full time soon, getting a better read on her from Madison isn’t a bad idea.
“What do you mean doesn’t do fun ?” I ask cautiously.
Madison exhales heavily. “Fun. You know what fun means. It’s everything we do other than the things we have to do. Fun. You’ve heard of it, right?”
Their laughter irritates me, and I say defensively, “You’re pretty hard on her, seeing as you’re family and all.”
Madison’s face turns red. “If we’re not hard, who will be? I know her better than anyone does. I’m hard on her because we are family. Don’t tell me that you haven’t noticed she’s a little extreme at times, in all the wrong ways, and that it doesn’t worry you.”
“That’s definitely true, Legs,” Nick murmurs, scooping his concoction onto plates.
My gut tightens since I don’t like how they’re bashing Krystal behind her back. “I don’t see her that way at all.”
Madison stabs her eggs with a fork. “Daryl didn’t either. And look where that got him.”
They both shake their heads, and the way they do it puts my nerves more on edge. Oh, they can’t know about what she does with Daryl. Or do they? Things may be different in Southern California, but having your boyfriend tie you up can’t be a normal thing that people talk about. Not even here.
“What are you trying to imply with that?”
Madison looks up from her plate, aggravated. “Oh, simmer down. Please tell me you’re not like Daryl and going to go all caveman on me every time we say anything slightly honest about Krystal. We love her. She’s a great girl, but I don’t think she’s a happy person and I want her to be.”
“That’s all anyone should want for her. I’ve never met anyone like her.”
Madison’s eyes brighten in approval. She crinkles her nose. “I’m sorry—you know? About last night—my saying I didn’t like you. It wasn’t nice, and I don’t know you so I shouldn’t have said it.”
“No big deal. I’m over it.”
An enormous smile claims her face. “Good. I want to have fun this weekend. I won’t see her again for months. None of us will.”
Nick motions with an arm. “Sit down, Jake. Eat.”
I take my chair at the breakfast bar.
I reach for some toast and set it on my plate. “So what are we supposed to do this weekend?”
They look at each other and bust up laughing.
I stare. “What’s so funny?”
“Sorry. No insult,” Nick says through chuckles. “We’re going to do whatever, man.”
OK, no help there to figure out what I’ve gotten myself into. “We’re going to hang out at the beach for three days? Is that the plan?”
“We’re not into that whole have-a-plan thing,” Madison explains, sinking her teeth into her lower lip to hide a smirk. “The beach isn’t a place. It’s a
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