Chapter 11
Maddox
Iturn up at the Jamestech offices two days later, literally cap in hand.
The fact that it’s a Yankees cap, signed by the team, makes me jittery.
I loved seeing her enjoying herself, but I’d also be lying if I said I wasn’t even more satisfied every time I glanced across the room and caught her looking at me.
She’d blush, look away, and pretend nothing had happened.
It was sweet. Like we were in high school and I just passed her a note. Do you actually like me, Y or N?
Except things would be a lot simpler if that was the case. I know now that I hurt this woman, and I better understand why she’s been so distant.
Ironically, I hurt her by trying to do the right thing.
If there’s a moral in that story somewhere, I’m not digging for it.
I didn’t sleep with her back in Morocco because I’d had my fill of meaningless sex.
It didn’t fill the void inside me; it didn’t take away the pain.
I’d realized by then that maybe nothing ever would, completely, but that it was time to put in the work and at least try.
Maybe I could have handled it better, told her why I couldn’t come up to her room with her.
If I’d done that, she wouldn’t have spent the last two years feeling like I rejected her.
The opposite is true. I’d wanted her desperately.
As she leaned on the doorway of the hostel that night, her skin flushed from the balmy evening, curls wild, a bead of sweat running between her breasts, I’d wanted her more than I’d ever wanted any woman.
It was one of the first battles I won with my demons.
Saying no. Walking away. I remember that night fondly for so many reasons, and it hurts me to think that her memory of it is tainted.
I didn’t mean to hurt her, but I did.
I’m much better at communicating now. At least that’s what I tell myself as I ride up in the elevator.
So, if that’s the case, then what the fuck am I going to say to her today?
“Hi, sorry I was an asshole, I did want to screw you I promise. Here’s a Yankees cap to make up for two years of feeling sore. ” Yeah. Real smooth, Maddox.
I nod to Deborah as I pass Mason’s office.
She raises her eyebrows at me in confusion and I shake my head, letting her know this isn’t a mistake.
I can feel her eyes on me as I go further down the corridor to Ellie’s office.
I can hear laughter coming from inside. Girl laughter.
The kind that makes me grin, but also makes me want to hide in a closet.
Somehow, underneath it all, I still feel like an awkward kid when I like someone, not that it’s happened for a long time.
After Yasmin, and what happened after…I promised myself I’d never be in a position to be hurt like that again.
I told myself it was the only sure way to keep that monster inside me locked away forever.
But he’s always there anyway, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for an opportunity to be unleashed.
Maybe he’ll never be gone. Always a part of me. I need to stop living in fear that I can’t control him, because I’ve done a pretty good job of it for the past fourteen years.
I’m about to knock when the door is pulled open, and I stagger through it. I narrowly avoid hitting a short blonde woman in the face with my fist, and we both make shocked noises. Hers is maybe more manly than mine at this point. I’m already on edge, in my defense.
The woman looks me up and down and then turns back to Ellie. “My God, that was quick. Did you order extra-large?”
I have no idea what’s going on, but apparently it’s fucking hilarious.
“Go,” Ellie says, gesturing for her to leave the room. “I’ll see you at class, okay?”
“Okay, sweetie.” She gives me another once-over. “But if you need a raincheck, I’ll totally understand.”
She disappears down the corridor, and I close the door behind me. Ellie smiles, friendly and open, and it makes my heart do a little tap dance. It’s a real smile. A genuine one. The first authentic reaction I’ve seen from her since we ran back into each other. At least the first positive one.
“We were talking crap,” she explains, her cheeks flushing a sweet shade of pink. “Looking at dating apps, and wondering if they delivered. Stupid stuff, sorry.”
Dating apps? Is Ellie dating? Well, why the fuck wouldn’t she be…and that’s fine, asshole. That’s not what this is about.
“Uh. It’s nice to see you Maddox. How are you?”
She’s making an effort. She tucks a curl behind her ear, and it drives me wild.
Fuck. I came here wanting to make amends, wanting us to be friends.
But that’s going to be harder than I thought.
As she stands up and I get a full view of her curves in a business suit that would look sensible on someone else, pretty much everything is harder than I thought.
I’m glad I’ve got my full-length coat on, because nothing says ‘I’m a celibate man looking for a platonic relationship’ quite like a raging hard-on.
I shift the bag I’m carrying in front of myself just for good measure.
“I’m good. And I, uh…I brought you a gift.”
Surprise flashes across her face, then she looks pleased, beaming at me. Damn, if it isn’t the cutest thing ever. It makes me want to bring her gifts every single day, just to see that sparkle in her eyes. “Really?”
“Really. Call it a ‘making amends for hurting your feelings’ gift.”
“There’s no need for that. I’m the one who should be making amends. I’m sorry I assumed you were some kind of…um…” Her blush deepens, and her hands go to her cheeks.
“Fuck toy?” I suggest, loving it when she squeezes her eyes shut and nods. “That’s okay. I forgive you. And you do believe me now, when I say I didn’t pass because I didn’t find you attractive?”
She nods some more, her curls jiggling, her breasts doing all kinds of distracting things beneath her plain white blouse. I shift my stance, trying to give my cock a little room. This is so fucking awkward.
“I do, and thanks for explaining it to me. And you’re still celibate?”
She bites her lip as soon as the words fly out, like she regrets them. If her face got any redder, she’d spontaneously combust. Again, so cute. I could torture her a little here. Flirt with her. Enjoy the fact that there’s clearly still a spark between us.
But I let out a sigh and rub my hands through my beard. I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us, especially when she only sees the man I am now, not the kind of man I was. The one I’m still capable of being if I don’t keep my darkness in check.
“Yep. That’s not changed since two nights ago.
Look, Ellie…I like you, okay? I still remember our time together.
The easy way we talked to each other. How much we laughed, even when we were sharing some pretty deep stuff.
If you’re open to it, now we’ve cleared the air, I was hoping maybe we could be friends? ”
“Friends?” she echoes.
Shit, I can hear the tinge of disappointment she’s trying to hide, and it’s hotter than hell. She wants me. And now I have a fleeting image of pushing her down on the desk, sinking to my knees and sliding my tongue inside her pussy.
“Friends,” I say again firmly. She can’t see the effect she’s having on me, and I long ago stopped listening to my dick’s advice. My dick never got me into anything but trouble. Ellie—and her body—could be addictive, and I can’t allow that to happen.
She pauses, scrunching her lips, and seems to consider it. “Well. Maybe we could. A lot will depend on what this gift of yours is.”
She stares at my crotch area, and for an awful moment I think she actually can see the party going on in my pants. Then I realize she’s looking at the bag. The bag with the gift inside it. Numbnuts.
I pass it over. “Sorry the packaging is a bit battered,” I tell her. “I keep hold of anything I get like that and use it again.”
“Saving the planet one gift bag at a time?”
“Something like that, yeah. Is that lame?”
“Not at all,” she protests, peeking inside the bag. “I’m exactly the same. Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness, right? I’ve started a few sustainability initiatives since I’ve been here. I’ve even got Mason recycling his coffee grounds.”
“That was you?” I ask, grinning. “He complained so hard to start with, and now he’s obsessed. You’ve created a monster.”
“Good,” she replies, looking pleased. “As long as it’s a green monster with a small carbon footprint. Can I open this?”
“That’s the general idea.”
Fuck. I’m suddenly nervous as hell. Was this a stupid idea? She’s not one of us. She’s not from our crazy world. Is it too much to give her something like this?
She unwraps it, and I search her face for signs that she’s pissed.
I’m not trying to buy her friendship, and I hope she doesn’t see it like that.
As she pulls the Yankees cap out and holds it up before her, though, all I find is surprise and delight.
She glances from it to me with those amazing blue eyes of hers.
“This is for me?” she murmurs.
I nod. I’m full of emotions right now. Bursting at the seams.
She frowns. “But this is the one from the auction. This sold for, like, $70,000 didn’t it?”
“Yeah.” It ended up costing me even more than that.
The guy who originally bought it for his son played hardball, and I ended up agreeing to an extra ten grand on top.
It was stupid. Tyler could have gotten me one for nothing, probably.
But I wanted this exact one—I wanted her to know that I noticed her.
That I paid attention when she oohed and aahed at it.
I’m still not sure what she thinks. Fuck, this is embarrassing. I make a big deal about recycling my gift bags, and then spend an absurd amount of cash on one little baseball cap? Yeah. Way to go, eco-warrior.
I have money, but I don’t use it unless it’s necessary.
I have a trust fund, one that was wisely stitched up a long time ago so that I couldn’t touch it until I got clean.
If I had been able to, let’s just say there would have been a lot of wealthy dealers in Manhattan for a few years. And I’m not talking about art.
Now, I live relatively humbly, but I don’t fool myself into thinking that means I know what it’s like to go without. Not many people can buy their pal a hat that costs as much as someone else’s salary. She knows it too, and she’s still looking undecided.
Fuck, I really want her to take that damn hat. In this moment, it feels like the most important thing in the whole fucking world. Like if she accepts this gift, then she accepts me. That we can be friends. That we can move past the pain I caused her.
“I wanted you to have it,” I say, shrugging. “And it’s for charity. That’ll help one of Amber’s kids get a great start in life that they wouldn’t normally have.”
That seems to swing it for her. She grins at me, her whole face transformed. Jesus fuck, she is gorgeous. “Okay. Well, when you put it like that, how could I refuse?”
I take the cap from her hands and pull it down over her unruly hair. Her curls peek out of it in all directions, wild dark corkscrews that won’t ever be tamed.
“How do I look?” she asks, giving me a little spin.
Fuck’s sake. Sexy as hell, that’s how you look, Ellie. What I wouldn’t give to see her wearing nothing but her birthday suit and that damn Yankees cap.
“Great,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t crack. “Just great.”
She’s just agreed to be your pal, you asshole. Stop perving, and start friending.