Never Say Never: Gravel Hill Boys Book Two

25. Ian

KnowingI wouldn’t get a moment’s sleep upstairs with Goldilocks asleep in my bed, I decided to crash downstairs in the family room. I grabbed a beer from the fridge in the wine cellar, flicked on the flatscreen, and settled in. The sofa was comfy, and I often fell asleep down there watching TV, so putting two floors between us wasn’t really a hardship.

Things had been weird for me, and I was off my game. Between finding out Madison was pregnant and knocking myself senseless, I’d been celibate. It had been weeks already. Longer. Maybe I should have Bailey make me an appointment to see a specialist or something. Figure out where my libido had gone. Then again, had my baby mama crooked her little finger, I would’ve carried her upstairs and tossed her on that bed before she could’ve changed her mind.

I unzipped my shorts and kicked them off, tuned into Sports Center, and hoped I’d catch at least a few hours of sleep.

In the morning I’d take Madison to my favorite breakfast place, and hopefully, we could talk and not argue. Maybe by then I’d have some idea of how I wanted this to go down.

It was still dark when I woke. An infomercial on hair loss blared on the television. I grabbed my phone off the coffee table—four o’clock in the morning.

Fuck.

I pushed myself up off the sofa, and once I had my bearings, I hit the stairs.

Following my slow ascent up to the third floor, I opened my bedroom door at the same moment I recalled that Madison was asleep in there. Oddly, the light was on and the bed was empty. Not only empty, but it didn’t look as if it had been slept in. I opened the door wider. No Madison. No overnight bag. No sexy-as-fuck shoes.

The door to the en suite was also open, but the light was off.

“Madison,” I called softly, not wanting to scare her if she was nearby.

No answer. I called a little louder. Nothing.

The guest room down the hall was also empty and undisturbed.

“What the fuck?”

I didn’t look in the kitchen when I was headed upstairs, so I went back downstairs.

“Madison,” I called loudly. At this point, I didn’t care if I woke her up.

Nothing. There were guest rooms on the fourth floor, but she didn’t necessarily know that, so I wouldn’t have expected her to have gone up there to sleep. I checked the foyer for any sign of her, but there was nothing.

“What the actual fuck? Where the hell did she go?”

I dug my phone out of my pocket. It rang four times before Liane picked up.

“This better be good, Ian. It’s four-fucking-o’clock in the fucking morning.”

“I can’t find Madison. She was here, and now she isn’t.”

“Are you drunk? She’s got a suite at the Perry Lane. Why are you looking for her at fuck-you-very-much o’clock?”

“She cancelled her reservation and was going to stay here so we could talk. But now she’s gone.”

There was rustling and grumbling on the other end. “What the fuck did you do, Ian?”

“You’re kidding right?”

“I am not kidding. You have been horrid since you learned Madison was pregnant with your baby, and now she comes down there to talk to you one-on-one, and you go and lose her?”

“I didn’t lose her!”

“Then where is she?”

I pressed my fingers into my eye socket. “I don’t know, Liane. That’s why I’m calling you.” I sighed loudly for effect. “I even let her sleep in my bed.”

“You came on to her? That’s not what she needs right now. Jesus Chr?—”

“No! I offered her the primary bedroom since it has the most comfortable bed, and I was going to sleep in one of the guest rooms.”

“Was? Did you try and sneak into bed with her after she fell asleep?”

What the hell? “Christ, Liane, what do you take me for?”

“Get off your high horse. We all know you think with your dick.”

“I’ll have you know I slept downstairs. On the sofa. Two floors beneath her. I just woke up and decided to head upstairs to sleep—in a guest room—and saw the door to my bedroom was open, the light was on, and there was no sign of her.”

“What did you do?”

“Why do you assume I did anything?”

It was silent for so long I checked to see if we were still connected. Maybe she fell back to sleep.

“Liane?”

“I’m waiting, Ian. What did you do?”

I exhaled a long, deep breath. “I think it’s her hormones. It’s like how women get a little crazy when they’re on their period. You know what I mean. We were talking about hormones and shit. Then she went on to insult West Virginia and Roosters. She even called Ashwood grubby. Everything sorta went to hell after that.”

There was a long, drawn-out sigh on the other end. “No offense, Ian, Ashwood is grubby to a woman like Madison. Her family business is worth billions. She grew up not wanting for anything—at least nothing money could buy. She’s in unchartered territory here. Roosters was her only experience with Ashwood. Of course she’d think it was grubby. And the way you carried on after finding out she was pregnant; I’m sure the entire encounter has negative connotations for her. Besides, what does it matter? You don’t even live there.”

“Yeah, well, she said I don’t understand anything about women, and when I pointed out that I know women—I love women—things got a little ugly, but then she just seemed to give up. She wanted to leave, but I convinced her to stay and promised to take her to breakfast in the morning so we could talk—like adults. But when I woke up a little while ago, she was gone and so were her things.”

After another long silence when I had to check yet again if we were still connected, Liane spoke. I wished she hadn’t, especially at the volume she used.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Ya, know, I’m getting really sick of people calling me that.”

“Then do something about it! Deep down, I know you’re a smart man. You’re a talented, accomplished musician, yet you live your life like a five-year-old with an all-access pass to an amusement park. You need to grow the fuck up, find your fucking balls, and take care of your responsibilities.” I opened my mouth to speak, but she just plowed right over me. “You may not have intended to get Madison pregnant, but you did, and now you need to own up to it. You don’t want a relationship with her or the baby? Your loss, but she’ll be okay. I think.” She hesitated. “I hope.”

A knot formed just below my sternum. “What do you mean you hope she’ll be okay?”

“This really isn’t any of your business, but Maddie’s been through a lot with her family.”

“In case you didn’t know, she doesn’t like being called Maddie.”

“I can call her Maddie; you can’t!”

Sheesh. “Stop yelling, will you? It’s too early in the morning for this.”

Liane growled like a goddamn bear. “Just listen, will you? Maddie was raised predominantly by nannies. Her parents are married, but her father lives in Paris and runs the family business from there, while her mother lives…actually, I don’t know where the hell her mother lives anymore. The woman can be lovely at times, but she’s also a self-centered, bona fide flake. Her father is cold and pretentious and unsupportive of everything Maddie’s ever done or tried to do. The only one who’s ever been there for her is her grandmother. So while I know Maddie has the fortitude to do this on her own and is determined to succeed at it, the truth is, a partner, a second set of hands, someone to watch over her and that baby, that’s what she needs, Ian. She doesn’t need money, although I’m going to suggest—strongly—that you support that child regardless. You can afford it, and even if you couldn’t, it’s the right thing to do.”

It was a lot to take in. Especially at four o’clock in the morning. I grew up with two parents who were always there when I needed them—and even when I didn’t—and four sisters who never respected my things or my space. Overall, it was fine. Better than fine, I guess. For everything each of them did that drove me crazy, I never, not once, struggled for attention or acceptance or love.

I ran hard and fast the minute I could, but those strings connecting me to my family were as strong as ever, guiding me back home when I needed them. I thought of my sisters calling me on the phone to sing to their babies and cracked a smile, despite them being pains in my ass.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah. I hear you. She has a shitty family. Got it.”

Liane sighed. “Good. Just keep in mind that Maddie is one of those people who has buckets of money, but it’s never bought her happiness. This baby is hers to love and to love her back. Having a child right now wasn’t on her radar, Ian, but it may be just what she needs.”

I cringed thinking of my accusation about her getting pregnant on purpose.

“I hope you’re going to step up. I really do. But if you can’t or won’t, then at least don’t make it more difficult for her. Okay?”

I filled my chest with air, trying—and failing—to dislodge whatever weight had settled there. “Got it.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” I cleared my throat. “Can you give me her number so I can call and check on her? Make sure she’s all right and that she got to the hotel okay last night.”

“You’re not going to be a dick, right?”

“I already promised. Jesus. Quit bustin’ my balls.”

“Fine, but the minute you give her any grief, I’ll do more than just bust those balls. Hear me?”

I cupped my junk. “Can I please just have the number?”

We disconnected and Liane texted me Madison’s info, which included her office number and her home address. I added it all to my contacts and hit the call button.

It rang once before going to voicemail. Great, she was either too sleepy to answer or she was ghosting me.

Then again, it was only a little after four a.m. That was me being an idiot again. Hopefully, I didn’t wake her. I was hauling my tired ass up to bed when my phone chimed with a text.

Madison

I’m about to board my flight home. It’s clear we have nothing to discuss, and I don’t wish to argue with you. Thank you for your hospitality. Dinner was excellent.

Are you kidding? We have a lot to discuss. Come back. I won’t argue with you. Promise.

Madison

Sorry. No. I’m done.

The next message I sent didn’t show that it had been delivered. I waited a few minutes. Still nothing. I tried calling. It rang a couple times and went to voicemail. I tried again. Same thing. I tried calling from my landline. It rang a few times and then went to voicemail. I tried my cell again. It rang once and went to voicemail. This time, instead of getting Madison’s recorded message, an automated message told me the caller was unavailable

“What the…?” I stared at the phone in my hand.

“She fucking blocked me.”