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His looks, his demeanour that borders on arrogance but hasn’t quite crossed over yet. This is a man that I used to know just as well as I knew myself but now seems so different that I feel actual physical pain at my inability to read him and understand his thoughts.
It’s unfair to think this way, both to myself and to him, but I can’t seem to stop.
The engine turns off, and I prepare myself for the gruff order to get out of the truck, but after a few silent moments, it doesn’t come. I risk a glance across the cab and suck in a breath. Rich, vibrant green eyes are waiting for me, and I fluster at the intensity behind them. The air stills around us, and nobody moves. Nobody looks away. I think we’re both afraid to.
The pull is still there. A part of me knew it would never disappear—not fully—but as if he’s realizing the same thing, I watch as a guard falls back over his face, and he quickly snatches his wallet and keys from the console.
“We’re here,” he snaps, and then he’s hopping out of the truck, leaving me to collect myself in his absence.
Yeah, we’re somewhere alright. Somewhere we never should have ended up.
In the land of strangers.
* * *
“You live here?”I blurt out the minute we enter the penthouse. Yeah, that’s right.Penthouse.
With black-and-white marble floors, lights that I didn’t know could be so bright, and walls lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, I nearly trip over my feet in surprise as I try to keep up with him. The place is decorated sparsely, impersonally. Sure, the furniture is high-end, and it fills the massive open floor plan well, but nothing screams Maddox to me.
Where are all of the personal touches? His family photos? I reach up and touch my lips only to find them in a frown. This place feels more like a hotel room than it does a home. But maybe this isn’t a home.No, I need to stop overanalyzing everything.
“Yeah, I live here,” he replies, pulling a beer and a bottle of flavoured water out of the fridge. My heart does this fluttering thing when he hands over the water before walking past me to the living area.
I quickly toe off my sneakers and follow, sitting on the opposite end of a long, white leather couch. The cold from the seat seeps through my scrub pants, and I shiver.
He notices. “Sorry, I like it cold.”
“I know.” I clear my throat and toy with the cool bottle in my hands. “So, how long have you lived here?”
“Two years.”
Two years and it’s still this . . . empty? My chest tightens.
“How is your family?”
“They’re fine.”
“Are you going to elaborate on that?”
“No,” he grunts.
“The grunting is getting old. You’re far from a caveman.”
“I don’t remember you being so pushy.”
I fight back a wince and plaster on a smile. “I didn’t expect you to remember me at all.”
His laugh is so rough it sounds painful. “It seems you’re impossible to forget. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
This time, I don’t try to hide how bad his words hurt. I swallow the knot in my throat and look away at the flat-screen mounted to the wall across the room and the electric fireplace below it. Anger tries to bubble to the surface when my eyes begin to sting, but before it gets the chance, I push it and the tears away.
I might deserve his distrust, but despite how angry he is with me over what happened in the past, I refuse to be treated like a doormat.
Twisting my upper body so I can properly face him, I say, “That’s the last time you speak to me that way, Maddox. You’re allowed to be hurt and angry with me, but you don’t get to treat me with disrespect. You’re not that guy, and I won’t let you become that guy all because of my father. Don’t give him that power over you.”
“How do you know I’m not that guy? I’m a far cry from the boy you knew.”
I shake my head. “No, I refuse to accept that your parents let you turn out to be a jackass. If Ava knew how you were speaking to me right now, she would have wrung you right out for everyone to see.”
