Chapter 25—Maddox
“I’m going to take a shower. You good?”
Emmy looks up at me from where she’s resting in the middle of my bed. The bed I carried her to after I refused to bring her to the guest room when she pitched a mammoth fit. Her argument is that we shouldn’t rush things. Mine is that we’ve wasted enough time.
She’s also lost her fucking mind if she thinks I’m letting her out of my sight for a good, long while.
“I’m freaking fine,” she huffs.
My lips twitch when she tries to throw her attitude around by crossing her chest with her good arm. “It loses a little of its intimidation factor that way.”
Her jaw drops and she throws her book at me. I watch it sail across the room and slap me in the chest before tumbling carelessly to the ground.
I keep my feet planted and let my arms hang relaxed at my sides, but there is no mistaking that she sees my impatience written all over my face. It shouldn’t be like this—us arguing. She’s frustrated with her inability to care for herself and I’m unwilling to bend on anything. Fuck moving too fast. If I hadn’t had my head so far up my ass that I could taste the bullshit I was spewing everywhere, then this whole ‘moving too fast’ bullshit wouldn’t be happening.
Last night, while she slept, I let my mind wander to where we would be had I given in to the drug that is Emmy’s love. I let myself picture a future I never thought I would see. Blessings. That’s all I saw. A wife, maybe some kids, and more happiness than I imagined possible.
Those are the things I’m fighting for now, and Jesus, I’m not exactly the one to beat around the bush when there is something I want. No, something I need.
“You really want to toss that sass around? It’s adding up, baby, and I can’t fucking wait.”
Her eyes widen and her mouth moves silently.
“Nothing to say?” I ask as I step toward the bed. “I get it, Em. I’ve given you every single reason to doubt me. I’ve driven that into you and I’m sorry.” I sit on the bed, shift so that I have one hand planted next to her hip, and bring the other up to cup her face, leaning in close enough that our noses touch and our breath mixes together. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere and I’m fighting—for you, for me, for us. Don’t give up on me because I took too long.”
Her breathing accelerates. I study her face, noticing with great satisfaction that her pulse is going insane. The vein in her neck is pulsing faster with each passing second.
“It’s not that I’m giving up on you—or us—Maddox. I just think that we need to talk about things before we jump into bed with each other.”
“I’m not going to fuck you,” I say. Her eyes narrow at that, and I could kick my own ass for blurting that out. “Yeah, clearly I’m not good at this shit, Em. Cut me some slack. Bottom line, I don’t want you away from me. I need you near me. I need to feel your warm skin, smell your intoxicating scent, and hear your sass even when you’re silent. I get that we need to hash shit out, but right now, I need to feel that you’re still here more than I need to waste time with some pleasantries of separate bedrooms. I need you, Em. Maybe even more than you need me at the moment, and that’s a whole fucking lot.” I kiss her lightly, breathing her scent in deeply, before taking off to the bathroom to shower.
(EMMY)
“Okay, okay. Get your wits about you, girlfriend,” I mumble to myself.
I can hear him moving around in the bathroom, the door cracked I’m sure so he can hear me if I need him. He’s humming to himself, the almost upbeat tune so unlike him. I’ve witnessed the closed-off, hard-around-the-edges, vibrating-with-anger Maddox slowly start to fade away since our time at the cabin. It’s hard to pinpoint when I noticed it happen first. But I do remember the exact moment he flipped a switch and the old Maddox came back.
So, yeah—I’m a little hesitant to believe that this is real. I would be stupid not to have my doubts. I also want nothing more than to knock all this stress off my shoulders and believe. I was so ready to just give it all up. To give him up.
If you don’t take this opportunity, this second chance, you’ll regret it forever. Just put one foot in front of the other. Baby steps… We all have to learn to walk somewhere, right? And then—then, when you get steady on your feet—that’s when you gallop with everything you have. The beauty of it all will be that the man by your side has already learned how to walk again once, so he’ll be there—ready— to hold your hand the whole way.
I repeat that over and over. Clearly lost in my head, I missed Maddox walking back into the room. He’s standing next to his ridiculously huge bed, a towel hanging low on his hips and water drops still rolling down his chest. I watch as one drops from his chin and lands between his pecs. My hand twitches in my lap as I watch it slowly—so erotically slowly—travel through the dusting of black hair, between the two perfectly sculpted rows of his abs, and then continue its path right between the deep V disappearing between his white towel.
I gulp, the sound so loud that it’s like a gunshot blast. At the risk of making myself look like some leacher, I move my eyes back up his torso, shifting the best I can to relieve some of the uncomfortable pressure building between my legs. His tattoos are so vibrant, the red dancing with the black from his wrist to the base of his neck. His chest is bare of ink, but I can see some more red shading on his left side. God, he is delicious.
“You done yet?”
My head snaps up, meeting his laughing eyes. His face completely relaxed and I gasp at his beauty.
Then I stupidly tell him, “You’re so beautiful.” My cheeks heat instantly.
His lips move, a small twitch, but he doesn’t smile. His eyes, however, are bright. The normal hardness has been replaced with contentment.
He’s happy.
“I’m not sure that’s going to do much for my ego,” he laughs.
“You’re happy?”
Cue the verbal vomit. It has to be my medication.
“I’m getting there, angel.”
I nod and his lips twitch again. I watch, stunned, as he turns and drops his towel before walking into the closet.
Well, fuck me.