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Seriously, why can’t the mannotdo the sweetest things for me all the time? Why do I not want to go to brunch and instead stay here with him? Why do I want to be near him still even though he’s practically been buried inside me for the past two weeks?
I can feel his eyes on me, but I keep my back to him as I taste that first sip of my coffee, glad I waited until after my shower to drink this so I can chug it down and then run.
“No big deal,” he says, the tone of his voice slightly concerning. “We’ll have plenty of time together in Texas. We leave Wednesday night, right?”
I spin around at his suggestion. “Yeah. I have to make sure I get ahead on work before I leave, too. There’s a bunch of data I need to sort through, a few articles to approve, and I have a meeting with Liam to go over final details about what he wants filmed.”
“I understand.” He nods and then goes back to the counter to pick up his coffee. “I am looking forward to celebrating the Fourth of July back at home with you, though. There’s nothing like a family barbecue and fireworks to come home to.”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess.”
“What do you mean, you guess?”
I shrug and stare down at my mug. “That’s just not what I do on the Fourth of July.”
“What do you usually do?”
“Watch movies in my house by myself. My girls are usually off doing things with their families, so I don’t like to intrude.”
Actually, you decline their invitations because you usually spend the entire weekend depressed and trying to escape your memories, Penelope.
“What about your family?”
“What about them?”
“You don’t ever go home for the Fourth?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Without thinking, I say, “I haven’t been home in twelve years, and I have no intention of going now.” My stomach drops. Nausea builds in my throat, and now I have to deal with the fact that Maddox is not going to let that comment go.
Fuck.
“Twelve years?” he practically shouts.
“Oh, wow, will you look at the time,” I say, placing my coffee cup in the sink and then sliding right past him. “I’d better get going.”
“Penelope,” he calls after me as I race down the hallway to his room, tossing his shirt aside and frantically searching for my clothes.
“I have to go.”
“Penelope...”
“Have you seen my clothes?” I scan the floor and then remember I took them off in the bathroom right before we had sex in the shower last night.
But Maddox grabs my wrist and spins me around until I collide with his chest. “Penelope, stop.”
Shaking my head, I close my eyes. “I need to go, Maddox.”
“No, you need to talk to me.”
“No, I don’t,” I fire back, opening my eyes and shooting laser beams at him with them. He can’t make me do anything, and the last thing I want to do right now is get into a battle with him.
The girls will be waiting on me, and I need some space. Actually, I’d really love a time machine so I can go back and take away the words I just let slip from my lips, but you know, this isn’tBack to the Future.
No, this is a clusterfuck of the past and the present colliding at the worst time.
