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She does that doe-eyed blink at me. “You’re just saying that.”
I shake my head, “Hell no. I’d never lie about food. Plus my mom would kill me if she heard me say that about someone else’s cooking.”
Maddie gives me a small smile before taking another bite. “I think it’s the late hour. Food always seems to taste better at night.”
I let out a humming sound as I jam more into my mouth.
Seriously, what the fuck is in this?
Lost in my enjoyment, I finish my meal in a matter of bites.
I’m staring longingly at my empty plate when Maddie sets what looks like a third of her sandwich onto it.
I start to wave her off, but she stops me.
“I can’t finish it,” a yawn punctuates her statement. “Another thing about late night snacks, my eyes are always bigger than my stomach.”
“If you’re sure.” I should insist she eat more, but she’s right that the sandwich was fairly large. But lucky for me, I’m large too.
“I’m sure, Big Guy.” She smiles as she says it, like we were having the same thought.
My grin matches hers as I pick up her castoff.
I’m not sure anyone’s ever given me a nickname before. Save forassholeor something of the sort. And I’m finding I like it. A lot.
Seconds later, I’m done with what’s left of Maddie’s sandwich and needing to show my appreciation. I stand and grab our plates.
“Let me,” she tries to protest.
“I got it.” I carry the plates to the sink, giving them a quick rinse before putting them into the dishwasher. “Do you want more water?”
“Yes, please.” Maddie glances away, like she’s suddenly feeling shy. With my back to her – as I fill her glass – she clears her throat, “If you’d like to stay for a bit, you can. I’m just gonna get my pajamas on.”
Leave, jackass.
It’s time for you to leave.
“I can stay for a while.”
The angel on my shoulder throws up his hands, shaking his head in exasperation.
“Okay,” her reply is a whisper and I turn just in time to catch another blush gracing her cheeks before she hurries down the hall, shutting herself in the bathroom.
Sagging against the counter, I let my head drop back against the upper cabinets.
“What the fuck are you doing, Axel? She’s literally young enough to be your daughter.”
But she’s not, the small devilish voice in my head says. And dammit, the voice is right. Who cares how much younger she is than me? She’s not underage. She’s in her 30’s. She’s an adult with an adult home and an adult job and…
The bathroom door opens, followed by the soft sound of bare feet on a wood floor.
“Jesus.” I don’t mean to say it out loud, but thankfully I say it under my breath.
There’s no confusing the fact that Maddie has an adult body.
In tiny floral-patterned shorts, a spaghetti-strap pale blue tank top, and her hair spilling over her bare shoulders, she looks like a centerfold straight from my wildest dreams.
I can’t look away. But I can’t focus on any one detail, my eyes skimming up and down, back and forth.
