Chapter 22
Ellie
Oh my God. I think I may have died and gone to heaven. Again.
Maddox has brought me to Brooklyn, to a little food place called Mario’s that serves a delicacy called exploding donut balls.
It may not be haute cuisine, but holy Goddess, they are a taste sensation.
Perfect little puffs of goodness that do indeed explode.
A sugar bomb goes off in my mouth, rich and creamy.
“You were right, these really are delicious,” I say, sighing out loud.
“Right? The whole family is obsessed with them thanks to Amelia. She used to live nearby. Still owns the house.”
“Is that the one Amber ran off to?” I ask, curious. Amber and Elijah’s marriage-divorce-marriage love story is the stuff of legend, and I can’t get enough of it. I adore Amber, while at the same time being mildly scared of her.
He nods and pushes the cardboard tray of donut balls over to me. “Yep. I always admired the hell out of her for that. Leaving the money and the fancy house and the lifestyle behind, starting all over again.”
My siblings and I grew up with nothing. ‘Trailer trash,’ the kids at school called us. But when my mom was alive, none of that mattered. She made sure our home was filled with love and laughter, and those cost nothing.
Since I was adopted by Keres and my dads, money has never been an issue. It took me a while to accept their generosity, but therapy helped with that—and Keres, Ace and Romeo really helped with that. They all had pretty shitty childhoods, too.
Because of them I was able to go to the college of my choice, travel the world, move to New York. They’ve never spoiled me, and I don’t take a cent of their money now. I earn a great salary, and I save as much as I can, because one day I want to own a Brownstone in Manhattan.
But the level of wealth the James family enjoys is beyond. You’d never guess it from meeting Maddox, but I suppose I’m aware of it playing in the back of my mind. Money changes things, but it sure as hell doesn’t make you happy, as Amber James can testify.
“I had lunch with Amber last week,” I tell him, slightly sheepish. “I had an idea about the fitness app, and…well. She liked it. So did your brothers. Eventually.”
He leans forward, intrigued. “Tell me.”
I know he’s genuinely interested, and that makes me so happy.
My work is important to me, and I’m so pleased that Maddox respects that.
“Um, well, we’re still working out the kinks, looking at the logistics.
But basically I wanted to find a way to allow the people at her community center—not just hers, but anyone involved in a similar project in a low income area—to access the app for free. ”
He stares at me for a moment, then his gorgeous face breaks out into a grin. “And how did my brothers react to that suggestion?”
I grin back at him. It was a fun meeting. “Well, initially Elijah just gave me that look he has—you know, that real serious master-of-the-universe look?”
Maddox nods, and puts on a deep, husky tone. “My name is Elijah James, and I do not laugh. Period.”
I giggle, feeling slightly disloyal to my boss, but it’s Maddox’s oldest brother and he absolutely nailed his impression. Elijah does laugh, you just need to get to know him better before you see that side of him.
“Right. That. So then he says, very slowly, ‘Ellie, correct me if I’m wrong, but the whole point of us releasing a new product is to make a profit, yes? Or did I miss something?’ Which made me a bit nervous, but I was ready.
I explained to him that the PR value of doing this would massively offset the financial hit of giving away some subscriptions for free.
Told him that Jamestech would be seen as a leading force in social responsibility, allowing everyone from all incomes and backgrounds to have access to life-changing health and fitness programs. Mason saw the benefit straight away. ”
Maddox rolls his eyes. “He would.”
“Yep. He just nodded, looked kind of thoughtful, and started talking about the press campaign. How we could get Elijah down to one of the centers for a photo op, do some boxing—did you know Elijah likes boxing because I had no idea? Of course you did. Anyway, so Mason’s away, scheming, planning TV coverage and viral social media moments, already saying he’s going to submit it for awards.
And…well. It was funny. Elijah listened.
Looked slightly pained. Then he said, ‘I see. And as a very small side benefit to all the glorious reputation-boosting, we’ll also be doing a genuinely good thing?
’ Mason was like, uh, yeah, of course—like he’d forgotten.
God, those two are quite the double act when they want to be, aren’t they? ”
He grins and finishes off his own exploding donut ball. He has sugar dusted on his beard, and I fight the urge to lick it off. We’re in public after all, sitting on benches outside Mario’s. “They can be. But it’s a great idea, Ellie. I’m so proud of you and the changes you’re making.”
I blush slightly, for some reason a little embarrassed. His praise always makes me weak at the knees, especially in the bedroom.
There’s one exploding donut ball left in the box. I glance at it and Maddox laughs. “Go for it, baby.”
I don’t need telling twice. I pop it into my mouth, relishing the textures and the tastes, making groaning noises because it’s just so damn good.
He stares at me intently all the way through, his eyes following my tongue as I lick my lips clean.
He’s transfixed, a dreamy smile on his face.
“God, I fucking love watching you eat, El. It makes me hard just seeing you devour that donut ball.”
It makes him hard watching me eat? I know he likes food. I know I like food. But this feels different. Is watching me eat a sexual turn on for him?
His comment makes me pause, and my heart sinks like a stone. Is it really me he wants, or does he just have some kind of fat girl fetish? Is he a feeder? Maybe he’s just never met anybody to indulge his kink with. Maybe that’s why he’s been celibate, and that’s why he likes me.
Bitterness seeps through me as I swallow down the now sour-tasting donut ball.
Of course it is. He’s into watching me eat.
He brings me food. He takes me places like this.
Damn, I’m so stupid. Why the hell would someone like Maddox James have a real interest in someone like me?
I gulp and look away. Tears are in my eyes.
I’ve been here before, but this hurts so much more.
I thought I genuinely meant something to him, but now I can’t shake this awful suspicion that it’s just my shape and my appetite that turn him on.
“Ellie, is something wrong?” Maddox asks, his voice laced with concern.
I wish I were better at hiding my feelings, but I just can’t do it. I never can with people I care about, and I care about Maddox so, so much. I wipe my hands on a napkin. I really don’t want to talk about this here. “No, it’s nothing, but I think I should go.”
“Why? What’s happened? Do you feel ill? Do you need something?” He jumps up from his seat and rushes around to my side of the table.
I shake my head, tears stinging the backs of my eyeballs. “I’m fine. I just want to go home.”
His brow furrows in a confused scowl, but he takes my hand, and, to avoid causing a scene in this busy courtyard, I let him. My legs are weak as we walk. He glances down at me. “You are not fine, Ellie,” he says.
He ushers us to a quiet spot at the side of the restaurant where we’re all alone. I just want to run, to be alone with my thoughts. I never can think straight when I’m around him, and I need to make it to the subway. To get away from here.
But when I try to pull my hand from his, he doesn’t let me.
He holds it tight, herding me, pushing me towards the wall of the building.
I can hear the chatter of the customers at the front, the faint sound of classical music.
It feels like I’m separate from it though, like all of that is happening in a different world.
My heart is racing, and Maddox is so close to me. Too close. I feel like I can’t escape.
My breath seizes up and my vision begins to blur. Memories assault me. Hands pawing. Too strong for me to escape. I can’t get any air, I feel like I’m choking…
And now I’m cornered. In my bedroom. Fifteen years old.
Being told to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake the others.
The terror as he trapped me there. My need to protect my younger siblings from this monster.
The knowledge that he was bigger and stronger and held all the power.
I gasp in a tiny trickle of air, ball my hands into fists, and slam them against Maddox’s chest. He doesn’t budge, and I have no strength to make him.
I plead with him with my eyes, incapable of speech now. Incapable of anything but this raw feeling of dread.
“Ellie, baby, please talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“You’re blocking me in,” I manage to pant out, my words faint, the whole world gone hazy.
Immediately he spins us around so that his back is to the wall and I’m standing in front of him. He holds up his hands. “That better?”
I nod, throat clogging up. My pulse is pounding so loud I can hear it, the blood hammering through my ears.
“Is it okay if I touch you?” he asks softly. His voice calms me down. Speaks to the part of me that knows he means me no harm. Another nod is all I can manage. He takes my hand and places it over his chest. “Breathe with me, baby.”
His deep commanding rumble is easy to obey.
I stare into his onyx eyes as I match his steady breaths.
I copy his technique—breathing deep in through my nose, holding it for a second, then slowly letting it out through my mouth.
It’s a pattern I’m familiar with, one I was taught during therapy when I was younger and also use in Pilates.
I guess Maddox has had his own uses for knowing effective breathing techniques.