A/N: Here's the second update of the week as promised. This story will return back to weekly updates until I finish writing it (offline that is) and once I'm done you'll see a lot more updates within the week. I am a bit busy with studying though so keep in mind that this may take time and weekly updates will have to do for now. 

If you have any cast suggestions then please do tell me who you picture the characters as. I'm still trying to come up with a cast and your suggestions would be a big help! Also, any songs that remind you of the story? Drop your suggestions in the comment section! 

ENJOY! 

"No way. How could you ever doubt Batman? He's Batman," Riley declared hotly like those very two words explained everything.

Bruce and Riley were in a heated conversation about Batman and Superman and I was getting very frustrated. I wanted to come to Golden Quaff to get some of my assignments done since I was attempting to free my weekends for Riley and while I was here I would let Riley play around the café and go to Noah's office upstairs if he wanted to play games which Noah had downloaded on the computer—almost a million of them despite my warning and insistence that Riley would get addicted to them if there were too many games. However, things didn't go according to plan when Bruce showed up and now I was sitting here, listening about two superheroes that I could frankly care less about with my back hunched across my paper, as if the closer I looked the easier it would be to concentrate with the constant chatter.

"That's it!" I said, standing up abruptly, my voice raising and my eyes widening with anger and agitation. "I am trying to work and you boys are doing nothing to help. It would be bloody brilliant if both of you could keep your traps shut!"

Both of them snapped their attention to me at my outburst—and so did few nearby tables—and still very agitated, I looked around at the nearby tables whose attentions I had stolen and gave them the stare that practically screamed what are you looking at, morons?

Looking back at Bruce and Riley I sighed before I collected my books and papers, messily due to my frustrated state, and said rather snappily, "Carry on with your superhero talk, boys. I'll just go to another table."

Huffing furiously, I turned on my heel and chose the nearest table instead of one of the booths and slid into my chair, laying all my material on the table before I picked up the pen and began to write furiously. A few minutes later I looked back at the question and froze. The colour from my face drained as I realised that I had answered the question wrongly. Releasing an aggravated sigh, I lay down my pen and buried my head into my hands, massaging my temples with the palms of my hand, my soft golden hair brushing against my fingertips.

Next, just as I felt myself drifting off, I felt a hand on my shoulder and I jerked upwards. I stared, alerted, at the man before me before I realised who it was as my vision came into focus and I breathed out the breath I had been holding.

"Oh my God," I said, shaking my head as Bruce took the seat opposite mine. "Don't ever do that again."

"Do what?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"Scare me," I replied sharply and he simply grinned.

"Scare you?" Bruce echoed. "I didn't know it was so easy to scare a tough cookie like you."

"Shut up," I said, rolling my eyes before I dragged a hand back through my hair to move any stray strands of hair out of my face. "This assignment is killing me."

"May I?" he asked, holding out his hand in the direction of the paper that sat before me, a little wrinkled. When I nodded tiredly he picked up the papers and for a few minutes he was silent, surveying the question as well as what I had written. I took these few minutes of silence between us to destress—or at least I tried to with my eyes closed when I thought about my plans with Riley for the weekend. I was going to take him bowling for the very first time and then we'd go rent a movie which we'd watch as we ate our dinner.

"You got it all wrong," Bruce said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Huh?" I said, blinking as I opened my eyes.

"You answered the question wrong," he explained.

"Yes, I figured that out, then got very miffed at myself and gave up."

"Oh, come on," he said tilting his head with his eyebrows raised, "It's not that hard."

"Yes, because you're a businessman already," I pointed out.

"An accountant," he corrected, an amused smile taking over his lips as his eyes trained on my movements.

"Same thing," I brushed off, waving my hand in the air before looking back to him to only see him still looking at me with that amused grin, his chocolate brown eyes dancing with mirth. "Is there something you find particularly funny about my situation, mister?" I asked hotly and his grin only grew wider.

He shook his head before he said, "I can help you out if you want."

I shifted in my seat, my heart picking up suddenly. "Where's Riley?" I questioned him even though I was perfectly aware of the answer. Riley knew this place in and out like I did and if he wasn't loitering in the back kitchen then he went up to Noah's office to play games that I would certainly scold him about...as well as leaving me alone with Bruce.

"Noah came to our table and I told Riley that I was going to come and talk to you because you seemed like you had a thing or two on your mind," he replied, his voice gravy smooth as always and a smirk found its way to his lips.

"A thing or two is one way to say it."

"So?" he promoted.

"So what?" I asked, pretending to be oblivious to his previous offer and ordered my heart to stop beating like it had just run a marathon but my mind and heart were currently at two different places and one was adamantly not listening to the other.

He chuckled knowing that I knew exactly what he was referring to. "So," he started, "do you want some help?"

I wanted to say no, to refuse his offer, so that he would go away and his presence wouldn't bother me anymore and I could actually concentrate but I needed the help. It was Friday and I needed to finish this homework so I could spend the rest of the weekend with my little boy.

"Yes," I replied, "I'd like that."

"Good," he said and for a few seconds we just sat there, looking at each other. My heart still kept beating, harder and faster and I held my breath, waiting for the moment that would break the tensed silence that sought refuge between us.

"Uh," I started, breaking the silence and looking from those chocolate brown eyes that had temporarily enraptured me to the paper that was held in his hand. "We should...I should..."

"Yeah, definitely," he agreed before clearing his throat. He shifted his chair over the bend of the table so that he was closer to me. I picked up my pen and when he leaned in closer to me to place my paper before me, I clutched the pen tighter, looking at him with a smile—or what I hoped was a smile. My frantically beating heart was making smiling a tiring job.

And with that we delved into an hour of discussing the question, with me bringing up queries that revolved around the question. At first I could barely concentrate with him so close to me because I could practically feel his body heat touch me gingerly, seep through my warm cosy clothes and kiss my skin, making it warmer. But as time ticked past I gained concentration as all moments of his hand brushing against mine, or the heel of his foot touching mine, or even his knee accidentally bumping slightly against mine fell away and I listened to what he had to say. He was a good teacher and he cleared away any clouds of doubts I had that revolved around this question. When the hour drew to an end we both leaned back on our seats, stretching our backs to make ourselves more comfortable.

The frantic beating of my heart was long gone and I found myself smiling at Bruce. "Thanks. You're a pretty good teacher," I said, smilingly, as I gathered up my papers and capped the pen. "I think I learned more from you than I ever did from Mr. Hallman."

"You have Mr. Hallman?" Bruce asked, his eyes lighting up with amusement as his lips quirked up into a small smile.

"I believe that is what I said."

He shook his head, his small smile growing wider. "I had Mr. Hallman in my fourth and final year, too. That man was such an arse and I could barely understand anything in the lectures. I mean, it is Business for crying out loud. Everything's pretty simple but with Mr. Hallman...it's like you start on Earth and you end up on Mars."

His mini rant caused laughter to come spilling out of my mouth. I placed my hand on his arm, tapping it with the giddiness that rode through me before I agreed, a wide grin touching my lips, "Yes! That's exactly what Mr Hallman does. Though thanks to you I'm no longer on Mars."

He smiled at me, his chocolate brown eyes twinkling with amusement. "I hope that's a good thing."

"It is," I assured, "I'm back on Earth."

He chuckled before he looked at me, his chocolate brown eyes burning through mine like he wanted to say something but it looked like he decided against it because he simply said, "I should get going. It's seven and I probably should get myself dinner."

"If you want," I said, trying to be polite as I could, "you can come with Riley and me to get some Chinese food. We're eating out today."

He shook his head with a friendly smile on his lips. "Thanks, I would love to but I have work at home that I have to get to and you worked really hard today, got a little frustrated along the way—" I giggled at his statement "—and I think you deserve to have a lovely dinner with your son."

I smiled and for a few seconds I didn't know what to say. It wasn't that I was against inviting Bruce for dinner, it was that I didn't entirely want to because Friday nights were the start of the weekend and spending time with my little boy was the way I envisioned my weekend to be kicking off.

"You work at home?" I asked and blushed instantly. I couldn't have said anything more stupid.

"Yes, sometimes. I don't have anyone at home and if I get bored watching television then I usually do work. This might be a shocker to most people but I actually love working and it makes me focus and concentrate."

"Looks like you're a very hardworking accountant," I teased.

"Hey, watch your words. I'm not just any accountant. I'm a charted accountant," he said seriously, his voice holding anything but humour, but when I looked at his eyes I saw that they were brimming with amusement.

"Okay, Mystery Man, I hope you have a good time with your work," I laughed, tilting my head as I smiled at him, my heart fluttering at the light banter that easily flowed between us.

He chuckled, his deep rumble vibrating through me. "Mystery Man. I missed that nickname," he said before he stood up. "Well, good luck on your assignment."

I nodded, a small and sincere smile taking over my lips, as I said, "Thank you, Bruce." I didn't know if he understood that I wasn't saying thanks because he offered me luck on the assignment or that he helped me with it—I was thanking him for understanding why this dinner with Riley was important to me as every moment with my son was. He could have said that he'd like to have dinner with Riley and I but somehow he knew and he had made the excuse that he had work at home to attend to—even I could see the work excuse was nothing but an excuse.

"I'll call you later," Bruce said and I smiled, giving him a nod, before he turned around and walked away. For a second I let myself wonder if all men weren't like Finn...if Bruce was different.

* * * * * 

The weekend came to an end faster than I thought it would.

Riley and I were having dinner on Sunday night at the table for once instead of the couch as we pretended to be civil people for a while. I had cooked a chicken dish alongside a dish of macaroni and cheese which was one of Riley's favourite dishes. He liked to eat the chicken dish with his plate of mac and cheese.

"Hey Mum," Riley said, speaking through a mouthful.

"Don't speak with your mouth full, Rye," I warned though I didn't know why I bothered because he never listened to me about this.

"This is great," he complimented me, gathering more on his fork before sliding the delicacy into his mouth.

I paused and turned to look at him with my eyebrows raised. "Is it?" I asked.

"Yes. I like the chicken very much. It tastes better than usual," he said, a wide grin on his lips as his eyes lightened up.

"Riley."

"Yes Mum?"

"Is there something you want to ask me?"

Riley frowned and turned back to his plate but despite him turning, half of his face was still facing me and I could see the blush rise from his neck to his cheeks. "I was telling you how nice your cooking is," he said, his tone highly defensive, "it doesn't mean that I wanted something."

"Riley," I said again.

"Yes?"

"What do you want?"

For a moment Riley was silent as he fiddled with his fork and put mouthfuls of macaroni into his mouth. I was quite amused by this. Riley always got nervous when he wanted to ask for a new toy because he was aware that we weren't all that financially stable and the only reason I'm doing university, have a small quaint home and take care of Riley is mostly due to my parents. I speculated that this was just another of his requests.

He set down his fork and turned to me, the question flying out of his mouth so abruptly that I took a few moments to process what my son had said. "Do you like Bruce?"

"Uh," I stammered after a moment of recovery. "Of course. He's a nice guy and you seem to like him a lot."

"No, Mum," Riley said. "That's not what I mean."

I shifted my macaroni around in my plate, pretending to be oblivious to what Riley truly meant. "Then what do you mean?"

Riley's cheeks reddened, like it was embarrassing for him to talk about this with his mother. "Do you like Bruce like you once liked Dad?" he asked.

The comparison of Bruce to Finn sent a jolt up my body and for a few seconds I just stared at my son, speechless and at a loss for words. What was I to tell him? "Oh, Riley," I sighed, dropping my fork and folding my hand over Riley's. "I don't think I like Bruce like that."

"Then why are you shy around him?"

"Shy?" I laughed, though my throat closed up a little at my son's observant eyes. "Do you know who you're talking to, Rye? Me—shy? When has Madilyn Adair ever been shy?"

"On Friday when he was helping you with your homework and you got all red in the face and you did that thing you did with Dad last Christmas where you lowered your eyes and sneaked a glance at him when he wasn't looking at you."

I felt my cheeks grow hot. "Aren't you an observant boy," I commented, giving him a wink though my heart was racing in my chest. "And weren't you supposed to be with Noah in the kitchen or in his office?"

"Mum," Riley groaned. "Stop changing the subject."

"I'm not! I was complimenting you on your observatory skills. Sheesh," I exclaimed dramatically, rolling my eyes and pulling my hands back as I picked up the fork, gathered macaroni on it and put it into my mouth where it just melted with the cheesy sauce. "And, you shouldn't be alone in the café without any supervision."

"It never bothered you before," he pointed out.

"Well," I said, stalling as I tried to come up with an excuse, "Now I am."

"You know," Riley started, looking away from me and returning back to his meal when he knew he wasn't going to win with me, "Bruce told me a secret today."

"Yeah?" I said. "Is Mummy allowed to know the secret?"

"He said...he said he likes you and I shouldn't tell you because he doesn't want to scare you away."

"What?" I rasped out, choking on my food. Quickly, I gestured to Riley and a few seconds later a cool glass was in my hand which I lifted to my lips. Drinking the water cleared the passage of my throat and bringing the glass back to the table I cleared my throat. "He didn't say that," I said, shaking my head in the process. "We've only known each other for a week."

"Dad said you and him knew each other for two days before you started dating," Riley objected.

"I was in high school!" I argued.

"So? You loved Dad," Riley said pointedly.

"And I certainly don't love Bruce," I said indignantly.

"You could!"

Riley's shout seemed to echo around. "What is that supposed to mean?" I asked.

He shrugged, cautiously saying, "I know you don't like many men, Mum. Bruce is the first guy I've seen you with that you seem to like and all I was saying is that if you give him a chance then you might like him more than you already do."

For a while I didn't know how to reply to that because it seemed to me that my son knew me better than I did and I didn't know how to tell him that I wasn't willing to take chances like I did with Finn because while Bruce was a nice, polite and also a sexy man, I honestly couldn't give up what I had with Riley and I didn't know how to tell that to him—how to tell him that I feared getting intimate, getting feelings involved, with another man would place a wedge between Riley and I. So all I could say after I gathered myself was, "Bruce said he liked me?"

Riley grinned widely like he had won the argument and nodded rapidly. "Yes. Will you give him a chance, Mum?"

I smiled at my son as my heart lulled over, a lump rising to my throat before I cleared my throat and whispered loudly, "I'll try." For you, I added the unspoken words in my head. "Should I call him?"

"Yes!"

"Calm down, kiddo," I laughed as I pushed my chair back and picked myself up from the chair. "You finish your dinner and you can watch some TV if you'd like but remember you have school tomorrow."

He groaned. "But do I have to, Mum?"

"Absolutely."

"I love you, Mummy," he said as he gave me a sweet-toothed smile.

"You too, baby," I smiled. "You're still going to school though."

"Ugh!"

Laughing, I picked my plate up from the table that was empty of food and had my fork. I made my way into the kitchen, placed my dirty plate in the sink and washed my hands, using the vanilla liquid hand soap that Grandma had gifted me to cleanse my hands before I went into the living room and picked up my phone which I had left on the coffee table by the couches.

For a moment I just stared at the phone, biting down on my lower lip as my stomach did strange things I didn't know it was capable of doing. Gathering up all the courage I had, I quickly went to my contacts list, pressed on his name and watched the screen anxiously. I didn't know why I was feeling this way—flustered and nervous—when I rarely ever felt like this. Ever since meeting Bruce I haven't only been hesitant I've also not been myself. I mean, it was not in Madilyn Adair to get nervous over a damn phone call.

"Hello?"

"Hey Bruce!" I chirped, smiling as my sudden nervousness vanished at the sound of his voice.

"Hello," he repeated, less distracted and more enthusiastic. "I was watching TV. So, may I know whom I am talking to?"

My grin widened and I bit down on my lip to stop an excited giggle from escaping before I said, "Hottie Maddie."

"Hottie Maddie," Bruce repeated, his voice holding the tone of disbelief. "I have Hottie Maddie on the phone? She's rarely on the phone and now... Where's Madilyn then?"

"She's unavailable," I said, my heart lifting at his words.

"But Hottie Maddie is," he said in that flirtatious tone of his and I could picture him, leaning back on the couch with one of his forearms propped against the couch's arm and his other holding the phone to his ear, with a smirk gracing those lips of his as his chocolate brown eye twinkled with mischief.

Before I could say something, Bruce said excitedly, "Are you in the living room?"

"What? Oh my God, how did you know? Are you stalking me, Bruce Vela?" I questioned, peering around myself.

"No," he laughed. "The living room is usually where people keep the television and I want you to turn to channel one-o-seven."

"What's so special about channel one-o-seven?" I asked, shifting the phone from my right ear to my left and using my freed up right hand I reached for the remote, switched on the television and turned to channel one hundred and seven. The advertisement of an insurance company was playing and a laugh immediately bubbled to my lips. "Oh my God," I said laughingly, "This is my favourite advert!"

"It's so stupid and silly for an insurance company. The way that girl dies...poor her but—" Bruce finished that sentence off with a laugh and I found myself laughing along too.

"Hottie Maddie?"

"Yeah?"

"Is there a reason you called?"

"Well..." I started. How was I going to tell him that my son wanted me to take a chance, to find out what it was that I was truly feeling? How was I to tell him that I actually wanted what my son had suggested but was just too afraid to take it? Taking a deep breath, gathering all my courage I had in me as the jittery nervousness returned, I said, "Would you like to have lunch tomorrow?"

"Like a date?" he pushed, his voice inquisitive and flirty at the same time.

"Uh, not really. I just wanted you to look over my paper before I submit it on Tuesday and we could have lunch and talk for a bit," I said as my heart raced with fear of rejection and excitement with the prospect his agreement would bring.

"Am I not datable?" he asked.

My heart skipped for a second when I thought he was being serious but when I realised the joking tone behind his voice, I said, "Not quite."

"Ouch," he said, "you sure know how to bruise a man's ego."

"Well, it's one of my traits," I said airily.

He chuckled before he said, "Are you sure you're okay with tomorrow lunch?"

"I was the one who asked you," I pointed out. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because tomorrow is Monday, sweetheart, and I don't want my balls chopped off all because you're moody."

"Oh damn. How did I forget that?" I said but before he could say anything I rushed to say, "But it is okay. We can still meet tomorrow. Just hope I don't cut your balls off." I face-palmed myself once the words were out. Just hope I don't cut your balls off? How ridiculous did I sound? And God, was I coming off desperate? That wasn't my intention but I honestly couldn't deny that while Monday was the worst day of the week I actually did want to have lunch and I certainly didn't plan to talk about my university studies but Bruce didn't need to know about that until tomorrow lunch.

"That's extremely reassuring," he said sarcastically.

"I'm afraid, mister, that hope is all you got."

"Isn't that great?" he said before laughing. I couldn't stop smiling throughout the entire conversation as my heart beat twice as fast and my stomach did strange things, excitement coursing through my blood.

"What time can we meet up?" I asked. "I'm free from eleven to one. I have to pick Riley from school."

"I can get an early lunch," he said.

"You really would?"

"As long as Hottie Maddie is there. Madilyn is boring," he said, his voice holding a tone of teasing flirtation.

"Madilyn would find your comment highly offensive," I chided.

"It's good that Madilyn isn't available but Hottie Maddie is then, right?"

"You sly bastard," I laughed, leaning back on the couch as I held my phone to my ear, the unwavering smile on my lips widening.

"That I am indeed," he agreed, chuckling along. "I'll meet you around eleven tomorrow?"

"And you get to choose where we eat. No fancy places though or I'll completely stand you up," I threatened lightly.

"I thought you said this wasn't a date," he teased and I could picture that dark black hair falling over his vision, his caramel coloured skin glinting in the light of his room and that smirk—that flirtatious grin—creeping up to his lips and taking residence there for a few minutes.

"Dates aren't the only ones that get stood up," I pointed out.

"Duly noted, ma'am," he replied. "Just so you know we won't be having lunch at the Golden Quaff."

"That's okay but can Hottie Maddie ask why?"

"Since it is Hottie Maddie I am confiding in," he started off teasingly. "No particular reason. I want us to be in different environment for one afternoon—just you and I. Not you, Noah and I."

I laughed. "What? Is there something wrong with Noah?"

"Nothing except the fact that he seems to hate me," Bruce said pointedly.

"Well, Noah comes off the wrong way sometimes but he's a great man. He's been a wonderful friend," I defended.

"I don't doubt that though I think it has less to do with me and more to do with you and Riley."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my smile finally slipping off my face fully as I sat up properly.

"Nothing, Madilyn. Anyway, I should get to bed. I need my beauty sleep if I want to look good for Hottie Maddie."

I frowned. What had he meant? Knowing that I would get answers eventually I sighed and smiled, thinking about tomorrow and how much I was actually looking forward to meeting him at lunch. "Goodnight Bruce Vela."

I could hear the smile in his voice as I caught his whisper. "Goodnight Madilyn Adair."