20. Maddie
20
MADDIE
After wrapping up my call with Grant, I turned to find Ian standing by his bed, putting his laptop away. His eyes softened as he glanced over, crossing the room back toward me on the couch. “How’d it go? Is Grant doing all right?”
“He’s doing great.” I nodded, feeling the warmth that only comes from talking to my son. “He’s spending the evening with his dad and his dad’s girlfriend. They took him to the movies, which he was pretty excited about.”
Ian’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “How long have you and your ex been…separated?”
“A little over a year.” My voice felt steady, though I wasn’t sure why talking about Jaxon with Ian made my chest tighten.
“And he has a girlfriend now?”
I nodded, feeling that old, familiar ache. “She’s actually his high school sweetheart.” I tried to sound casual, though I knew it came out more bitter than I intended.
Ian frowned, clearly confused. “Wait, I thought you said you met him in high school?”
“ I was in high school when we met. But he was a couple of years older and dated Janica before that.”
“So were they on a break when you met? Or…?”
“He was single as far as I knew,” I said, since Ian seemed to be wondering if I’d been the “other woman” in Jaxon and Janica’s relationship back then. “When they graduated high school, she left for college in another city. Jaxon stayed behind in Ridgewater and worked for his dad while taking a few classes. He and I met at a college party when I was sixteen. We hung out and hooked up a few times—nothing super serious. But then, well, I got pregnant on accident and…I guess I trapped him with a baby.”
“He told you that you trapped him?” Ian gasped, seemingly surprised with my wording.
“He didn’t use those exact words.” I shook my head. “But, with how everything turned out, it just seems like me getting pregnant just delayed him from getting back with the girl he actually wanted to be with.”
“You couldn’t have gotten pregnant without his help,” Ian said. “I mean, I don’t know if any protection was involved. But you didn’t just spontaneously get pregnant. This wasn’t another case of immaculate conception. It happened because his sperm wasn’t contained.”
An awkward laugh bubbled out despite myself, and he shot me an apologetic look.
“Sorry,” he said, a sheepish smile lifting his lips. “That came out a little too blunt.”
“No, it’s…it’s fine. I guess I never thought about it that way.”
“Yeah, I guess it’s been important for me to take responsibility that way, regardless of what my partner has going on birth control-wise,” Ian said, an unexpected vulnerability in his eyes. “I mean, I may have been a bit of a man-whore, but at least I knew that if I wanted to do my part in avoiding fatherhood before I was ready, I needed to keep everything under wraps.”
And I knew I must have looked shocked in that moment because he put a hand on my knee and playfully shook it as he said, “Sorry. I forgot you’re one of those sweet, small-town girls.”
“Yeah, and you were supposed to be a small-town boy,” I said, my jaw dropping. “But man, those city-slicker vibes are coming out tonight.”
We both laughed, but the moment of lightness faded as I returned to the darker memories. “Anyway, I think I told you that we didn’t actually move in together until Grant was two since things were pretty rocky between us at first. But then, I don’t know, even though things weren’t super easy, I guess I always thought that deep down, we’d be able to work.”
“Hey, Grant is what, eight?” Ian asked. “That’s a pretty good run. I mean, there are tons of couples who don’t make it even that long. My mom and bio dad didn’t. I certainly never have.”
“I guess,” I said. “But I don’t know… With how everything turned out, it just feels like I kept him from living with the woman he actually wanted.”
Ian looked like he wanted to say something, but since I didn’t actually like telling this story and wanted to get it out as quickly as I could, I hurried to say, “A couple of years ago, Jaxon and Janica reconnected online. And, well… Jaxon must’ve decided the grass was greener on her side. They met up one night when she was in town and, uh, he just…didn’t come home.”
“What?” Ian’s jaw clenched, his deep brown eyes sharp with disbelief.
I nodded, remembering those horrible days. “I thought something awful had happened—my first thought wasn’t even that he was with someone else. We had a fight the day he went missing. So I assumed he’d gone to his parents’ place to cool off since he’d done that before. But when he didn’t answer my texts or come home the next night, I checked his location. Saw he’d stopped sharing it with me, and so I called him. No answer. I called and called, and finally, he texted back.”
My throat tightened, the memory of his words still stinging.
“He said he was sorry, that he was a failure and a burden. And that Grant and I would be better off without him since he always just messed everything up.” I swallowed, feeling the rawness of it all over again. “Anyway, I immediately got worried because this wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that. He’d been in a bad place a year earlier and talked about…you know, not wanting to be here anymore.”
“Oh no…” Ian reached out, resting his hand gently on mine.
“Yeah.” I nodded, tears pricking at my eyes as I remembered the feelings of helplessness that had crashed over me.
The fear and panic.
“Anyway, after sending me that text, he turned off his phone.” I blew out a breath. “And since I couldn’t track him, I really panicked. I posted on social media, begged people to look out for him. I was terrified. Thought he was going to do something drastic, if he hadn’t already done it. I even filed a missing person’s report.”
“Oh, Maddie,” Ian said, scooting closer on the couch and pulling me into his arms. “I can’t even imagine—” He stopped, seeming to search for words, before saying, “What a nightmare.”
I nodded, sniffling as I tried to keep it together. With trembling lips, I managed to say, “It was literally the worst three days of my life.”
“Three days?” Ian leaned back to look at me, so much concern and feeling in his eyes. “You didn’t hear from him for three days?”
“Yeah.” I drew in a shaky breath. “Eventually, he showed up. Told me he’d been with Janica. Just…holed up in a hotel, acting like it was some kind of honeymoon.”
Ian’s arms tightened around me. “All the while you’d been going through hell, thinking he might be gone for good.”
I nodded. “I felt like such an idiot for freaking out so bad.” I scoffed, wiping at my tears. “I mean, I was relieved he was alive. But there was no coming back from that.”
“I can imagine.”
“Anyway, he packed his things and moved in with her after that. And we’ve been splitting custody of Grant ever since.”
Ian was silent for a beat, but when I looked up, his face was full of tenderness. “I’m so sorry you went through all of that. You didn’t deserve any of it.” He paused, his voice low and certain. “You’re incredibly strong, Maddie. Any man would be lucky to be with someone as amazing as you. And he was an idiot for not seeing that.”
“Thank you.” A faint smile touched my lips, a feeling of warmth blooming in my chest at his words. “It…really did suck. But I still have Grant, at least. And he’s worth everything.”
We sat together quietly, the weight of what I’d shared sinking in. I leaned into Ian’s shoulder, feeling an unexpected comfort in his presence. It was something I hadn’t felt in such a long time.
After a while, he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, his touch so gentle and perfect it made my heart flutter. “Still want to watch that movie?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant, as if he didn’t really want the moment to end.
I glanced at the time on the clock across the room. “It’s late. You probably need to get a good night’s rest before your big presentation tomorrow.”
“You’re a terrible influence, Maddie.” A slow smile spread across his face, and his brows arched teasingly. “Always trying to make me responsible.”
I laughed softly, the sound breaking the tension in the air—just a little. “Someone has to. I hear your assistant is slacking these days.”
“Hmm,” he murmured, pretending to consider. “She has been sneaking into my room in pajamas. Very unprofessional.”
We both laughed, but neither of us moved to get up. Instead, Ian shifted slightly, pulling me closer until I was tucked against him, his arm draped over my shoulder. I let myself lean into him, the warmth of his body comforting, grounding, despite the storm of emotions churning inside me.
His fingers began tracing light, lazy lines along my shoulder, and I had to fight the thrill that shot through me with each pass. My heart picked up speed, thudding harder with every slow, casual stroke of his hand. Then he leaned down again, pressing another soft kiss to my forehead.
This time, it felt different—longer, more lingering. Like he was trying to tell me something with the simple press of his lips.
I breathed in his scent, fresh and warm, with just a hint of something woodsy and masculine that made my pulse race. My gaze drifted to his lips without meaning to, and before I could stop myself, I found myself wondering what he was thinking. What he wanted.
As if he could read my mind, Ian tilted his head, his voice quiet as he mumbled, “I keep forgetting we work together…and that we probably shouldn’t be sitting in my room like this.”
My breath hitched at the way he said it—soft, low, and laced with something deeper. It took me a moment to gather my thoughts, but with my voice barely above a whisper, I admitted, “I’m having a hard time remembering that, too.”
Ian’s eyes locked onto mine, dark and intense, his gaze sweeping over my face and finally settling on my lips. My heart hammered, and I swallowed, trying to keep my thoughts from slipping too far into the realm of “what if.”
“But maybe it’s okay to be like this,” he murmured, his hand still resting on my shoulder, his thumb grazing the bare skin just above my collarbone. “You’re my fiancée this weekend, anyway.”
I smiled, barely able to think straight under the warmth of his touch. “I am wearing your fancy ring,” I whispered, lifting my hand slightly so it caught the light.
His eyes followed the motion, and when he looked back at me, something in his expression deepened, softened—but somehow sharpened, too. “It’s probably only right that we practice being close like this…you know, just in case we have to ramp up our PDA tomorrow,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.
“I think you’re right,” I managed to say, my voice no more than a whisper, as I could barely breathe in that moment. “Just to make sure we know what we’re doing.”
He hesitated, and for a second, the room seemed to go completely still. And then, slowly, he leaned in, his hand lifting to cradle my face as his lips brushed against mine.
The first touch was gentle, tentative—like he was savoring the moment as much as I was. His lips were warm and soft, and he tasted faintly of mouthwash—like he’d intentionally freshened his breath before I came back to his room.
Like he’d almost been hoping for this.
But this is just pretend, I tried to remind myself. None of this can go past this weekend.
But my mind didn’t seem too concerned about reality in that moment since the thought drifted away as soon as his fingers threaded themselves into my hair, pulling me closer to him.
He kissed me again, firmer this time, and I felt a soft, aching warmth bloom deep in my chest. I couldn’t stop myself from responding, pressing my lips against his, feeling the shift in his breathing—slightly heavier now, more ragged.
One of his hands slid from my shoulder, his fingers trailing lower, gliding down my back in slow, deliberate strokes. Each touch sent tiny sparks down my spine, heating my skin and quickening my pulse.
I melted into the kiss, letting the world narrow to just him—the way his mouth moved against mine, the way one hand tangled in my hair, cradling the back of my head as the other pressed warmly against the curve of my lower back, drawing me impossibly closer. My mind scrambled to remind me that this was temporary, that it couldn’t go anywhere.
But logic was no match for the sensations coursing through me—the tenderness of his lips, the gentle graze of his thumb brushing against my cheek, the strength in the arm holding me securely against him.
And for once, I didn’t want to be sensible. I wanted this moment. I wanted him.
I could think about everything else some other time.
His kisses deepened, growing more insistent, each one unraveling what little control I had left. Before I knew it, Ian shifted, his movements deliberate yet gentle. In a heartbeat, I found myself lying back against the couch, his solid frame above me, his weight pressing into me just enough to leave me breathless.
There wasn’t an inch of space between us now. His chest pressed against mine, rising and falling in perfect rhythm, the wild thrum of his heartbeat echoing my own. Every part of him was intoxicating—the heat of his body, the faint brush of his breath, the way his lips moved against mine with a hunger that left me reeling.
I hadn’t even realized my fingers had tangled into the fabric at the back of his shirt, clutching him like I couldn’t bear to let go.
He pulled back slightly, just enough for his forehead to rest against mine as we both struggled to catch our breath.
“You’re making it really hard for me to be a gentleman right now,” he murmured, his voice low and ragged, laced with a quiet awe that sent my pulse racing even faster.
And I knew I should probably say something back, but my brain must have been short-circuiting or something because I literally couldn’t form words.
The hand that was tangled in my hair shifted to trace a slow, deliberate line along my jaw. His thumb brushed over my bottom lip, the soft caress sending a shiver through me, my skin tingling with anticipation.
His gaze dropped to my mouth, and my heart lurched in response. And since I couldn’t seem to speak, I decided to speak to him in another language. To tell him with my kisses that I really didn’t care if he was that much of a gentleman with me tonight.