AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I tuck my lips in to hide my smile, but that little reprieve from my anger doesn’t last long. “You have problems.”
“Yes, I do, starting with why you’re so pissed at me right now. When you stormed into the locker room, I thought I’d pop off with some flirtatious remark about how if you wanted to see me naked so badly, all you had to do was ask. But given the way your nostrils are flaring and the vibe your body language is giving off, I’m gonna say this isn’t a friendly visit.”
“So the man’s not all muscles and does have a brain,” I fire back with a low blow that I know isn’t necessary. But dammit—right now, I am pissed.
Just pissed, or hurt, too, Pen? Especially after what you guys shared last night.
I slam the paper on the table in front of me, pointing to the picture of Maddox on the front page along with the headline, “Guess Taylor Hasn’t Changed His Ways After All.” “Care to explain this?”
“What do you want me to explain?” His entire face changes—that soft, teasing smile from before becomes a hard line between his lips, and his arms fold over his broad chest. “Seems to me you already think you know what’s going on in this picture.”
“When was this taken, Maddox?”
He peers down at the picture again. “Saturday. That’s the outfit I wore when I went out with Hayden and a couple of the other guys from the team after the Puppy Palooza.”
“That’s what I thought. Why on earth would you think that, after volunteering at a community event, it would be smart to go out drinking with your buddies and get photographed getting into a car with a woman?”
His brow lifts. “I didn’t know I needed permission to go out and drink legally.”
“That’s not the problem here, Maddox, and you know it.” I blow out a breath, turn around, and then throw my hands up in the air. “How am I supposed to repair your image and help the team’s image if you keep doing shit like this? The same fucking thing happened that night we met at the club. And why are you out at clubs at all when you should be focused on football?”
“First, don’t worry about my focus on football. And second, you know I didn’t go home with that girl the night we met, Penelope. You know that for a fact.” He points at me across the room.
I swallow my words and contemplate his as he reminds me yet again of how fucked up this situation is given our past transgressions.
This is why we shouldn’t be dating. My mind is muddled, unable to separate him as a client from the man I’m seeing.
Oh God, I fucked up.
And the worst part is, Icare.I care about what this looks like, and not just from a professional perspective. Because the day after this, we spent hours together at my place, and he gave me some of the best sex of my life.
“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you were with her in the first place or why this picture looks the way it does.” I hold out the paper to him. “You’re literally smiling as you put her in the back of this cab. You look like you’re about to get lucky and you’re happy about it.”
“You’re just going to have to trust me.”
“And you’re just going to have to give me more information to work with. I need a reason, Maddox. I need you to fill in the holes in this story.”
“You need a professional reason, or is this because you don’t believe me?”
I rear back like he just slapped me. But the truth is, I don’t know what to believe at this moment, other than that I feel like a fool.
He continues quickly after he sees my reaction. “I was helping her get home, Penelope, but I didn’t go home with her. I would never do that to you.”
“Why? Why help her get home and risk a picture like this being taken?”
He sighs and then puts his hands out to the side. “I’m a silent ambassador for a hotline that helps provide rides for women and men so they can get home safely when they’ve had too much to drink,” he explains. “There. Now are you happy?”
“You do what?”
“Call it a savior complex, but if I see someone who I can tell has lost their ability to make decisions that won’t put them or anyone else in harm’s way, I have to step in.” Emotion is clogging his voice now, but I know he has more to say, so I simply watch him. “I slip them the card for the service with the number and then get a text when a driver arrives, so I help them out to the car. But you never see pictures of me helping guys, do you? Because those pictures aren’t going to sell magazines and generate clicks.”
“I’m sorry,” I interrupt, shaking my head, stunned by this information that is taking my brain far too long to process. “You are asilentambassador for this?”
“My cousin runs it. We developed it in college after...” But he doesn’t elaborate, and now I know there’s more to this story. He looks off to the side like he’s being transported back in time. “Let’s just say it’s a cause I feel very strongly about.”
My heart is pounding as I try to soak in all of this information. He does this tohelpwomen? He’s not hooking up with them?
That’s what he said, Penelope. Now focus. You need more information.
