He was right too. Nothing else mattered. That was the first time I wanted to tell him I loved him. But I kept quiet. I saved my words like he did, and pretended I was okay with that.
It was wrong that we were together. I knew that. He was older and I wasn’t old enough. He was wealthy and had already established himself in a career he was born to dominate. I was nothing and he was everything. I didn’t understand why he would want me, but a small part of me hoped it wouldn’t change. That was my first problem – not wanting things to change when they were so unbalanced, I would never be able to keep up.
Lying in Madox’s arms while staring up at the ceiling fan, every bit of that anxiousness, that regret… that small bit of hope, comes to the surface all over again.
“Should I pretend to be asleep so you can sneak out? Or will you let me buy you coffee?” Madox’s voice is calm and even, although his sleepiness is evident in his tone.
Has it really been seven years since all that? Has life really changed so much since then?
“As if you could sleep through me wrestling my jeans over my ass,” I mock him as I shift under the comforter, listening to it rustle and pretending like memory lane didn’t just tear me down to the girl I used to be. Laying a cheek against his chest, I peek up at him as he chuckles.
It’s been so long since I’ve kissed him, but in my head I always imagined it was everything. The heat, the forcefulness mixed with a tenderness that smoldered with desire. I thought a few months ago that I made him seem larger than life in my memory. That it was all in my head.
But it’s real. Every bit of it is real. The way he kisses, the way he does everything, is even better than I remember.
My fingers play with a small smatter of hair on his chest as I wonder if he wants me to stay a little longer, or if I should go. More importantly, I wonder if anything at all has changed.
Chapter 7
Madox
Seven years ago
“You don’t have to look at me like that,” I tell her as she stands there, nervously fidgeting with her fingers.
“I’m sorry–”
“Stop saying you’re sorry,” I command her without thinking about it. She shouldn’t be sorry. I hate that she looks at me like that.
“Okay,” she whispers, her wide, deep blue eyes seeking approval from me. I want to take that pain away from her; I want to see her anything other than the way she is now. “I just wanted to tell you, I really appreciate what you did and I’m–” she pauses to swallow and then concludes, “I wish you hadn’t gotten in trouble for it.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her, knowing how much she isn’t fine. I almost ask her to come inside. I almost ask her if she wants to, but instead I tell her to come inside and that I’d washed her clothes for her. I deliberately bring her into the game room first, so the guys can see she’s here. “You want to let off some steam and play pool or something?” Ryan asks her. I knew he would; he’s a shark. Before she can answer, I place my hand on the small of her back and tell her, “I’m only playing if we play in teams.”
I hope I never forget the way her expression changes in that moment. Where she realizes no one here wants her to be sorry.
Today
I can still feel her lips kissing down my neck as the waiter pours our coffee. The smell is rich and enticing, but it’s nothing compared to my memory of last night. I have to stare at the glass front door of the shop to keep from replaying every second with her in my bed, listening to the chimes of the bells hanging above the door as an older man wearing a newsboy cap enters, pausing to shake out his umbrella.
“The weather sucks today,” Sophie says, although her voice is sweet and airy. My eyes drift back to her as she blows across the top of her coffee. Mine’s black and hers is only a few shades darker than the cream tablecloth.
As she takes her first sip, I can’t take my eyes off of her.
“I want to see you again. Tonight.”
My words catch her off guard and she nearly spits her coffee back up. She’s frantic as she pulls the napkin from her lap to wipe her mouth.
I don’t say a damn thing, only wait for her response once she’s set down the napkin.
“Can’t we just talk about the weather and pretend like I’m not wearing the same clothes I had on last night?”