Chapter 16
GABI
When I asked Maddox to do something tonight, I didn't expect much. I mean, it was already three in the afternoon when I left LaunchPoint and I still had to go back to the bakery to help the girls close. When I told him the earliest I could be ready was six thirty, he didn’t bat an eyelash that it would be a problem.
He simply told me to wear something that was casual but I felt good in, to be ready at seven, and that he’d take care of the rest.
That might’ve been the sexiest thing he’s ever said.
I really hope sooner rather than later I quit comparing everything Maddox does to what Justin did.
But how can I not when Maddox is the anti-Justin?
Justin’s plan for our first date was going to the movies with his friends.
We were in high school, so I never thought anything of it.
And yes, he asked me to prom, but I picked out his suit and the flowers.
I picked out my own engagement ring and he did a horrible job at not giving away when he was going to propose.
And of course, by the time we were married, there wasn’t a lick of initiative when it came to nurturing our marriage and keeping the spark alive.
Yet here’s Maddox, planning dates, texting me when he was on his way, coming to my apartment door to walk me to his car, opening the door for me. I know in the grand scheme of chivalry, all of these aren’t groundbreaking efforts, but to me, they’re everything.
“So what are we doing?” I ask as he pulls off the exit. “Wait, are we doing something downtown?”
“We are, but I’m not telling you what,” he says with a boyish grin. “I like surprising people.”
“I told you I don’t like surprises, right?”
“You did,” he says as he slowly makes a left turn onto the top of Broadway. “But I’m going to see if that’s because you’ve never had a surprise from me.”
“You think you can change my mind on surprises?”
He shrugs. “I got you to change your mind on this, didn’t I?”
Touché, Maddox Gallagher… touché.
“I’ll be willing to try to be more open to surprises,” I say. “But in return, you need to do something for me.”
He glances my way while also taking my hand in his. “Name it.”
“Next time we go on a date, and you have something planned downtown, please let me drive to you.”
He shakes his head no. “Sorry. Can’t do that.”
“Maddox…”
“Gabrielle…”
Our stubborn is facing off again, only this time, I’m not letting him win. At the end of the day, something has to be practical about whatever this dating/relationship/friendship is. Me driving to him can be one of them.
“Maddox, all I’m saying is that it makes zero sense for you to drive across town to pick me up, only to go back to where you live. I can drive and I don’t mind doing it.”
We’re at a standstill, giving Maddox the opportunity to put the car in park so he can fully turn to me. Our hands are still joined, so he uses the connection to pull me in closer to him. If the console wasn’t between us, I’d nearly be on his lap. Not that that’s necessarily a bad thing.
“But I do mind,” he says, his words with a firmness I haven’t heard from him.
Not in a scary way, but in a he-means-business way.
I like it. “I really don’t want to think about your ex right now and how I can only assume he treated you, but I need you to know how this is going to go.
I’m going to pick you up. I’m going to plan dates.
I’m going to open your car door when you get out tonight.
I'm going to hold your hand and make sure I walk closest to the street. And never, I mean never, will I make you drive anywhere again. Not because I don’t think you can.
But because how I see it? I’m the luckiest guy in the world that I get to be with you.
Which means I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that you’re treated exactly the way you deserve. Which is like the queen you are.”
Not one word that came out of his mouth was sexual. But I can safely say that I’ve never been more turned on in my entire life.
When I don't say anything, Maddox takes the opportunity to lean in and gently kiss the corner of my mouth. “Is that okay, Gabrielle?”
God… the way he says my whole name makes me want to suggest skipping the actual date and going straight to his condo. “Yeah… that’s okay.”
“Good,” he says, kissing my hand as traffic starts to move. “Now let’s get you that surprise.”
“I still can’t believe you brought me to a hockey game!” I haven’t stopped smiling since we got to our box seats at the Music City Rockers’ game, but how can I not? Not only is this my first hockey game, but it’s my first professional sporting event ever.
More importantly than that, it’s something off our list. Something I said I wanted to do. And he made it happen in hours.
“So I gave you a good surprise?”
I turn to Maddox, who seems genuinely nervous. “The best.”
I punctuate my words by leaning over the small arm rest to give Maddox a kiss. Nothing big. A little more than a peck. But I hope he realizes how much more it means to me.
And judging by the smile on his face when I turn away, he absolutely does.
This night has been perfect. Apparently, Maddox made a few calls and was able to get us seats in the box owned by the Nashville Fury.
Luckily for us, no one else was using tickets so we had the entire box, and the seats outside it, just for us.
We ordered dinner from the menu that I’m sure is not available to regular patrons of the game, and I’m so full I couldn’t eat another bite.
We’ve had as many drinks as we could want, but the smell of beer for some reason made me slightly nauseous.
So I stayed with my Coke Zero to make sure that nothing was going to get in my way of what I think is, so far, a perfect first date.
“Are you a hockey fan?” I ask as the teams take the ice for the third period.
“It’s actually the one sport growing up I didn’t play,” he says. “I had friends who did, but I never took an interest in it. Then again, my dad made sure I had a football in my hands from the moment I was born, so I don’t know if I had any other choice.”
“I bet he’s glad he gave you that football.”
Maddox doesn’t say anything, but I immediately know that I said something I shouldn’t have. “Oh Maddox. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up—.”
“It’s fine…” He pauses for more than a few seconds, his eyes turning sad.
I reach across to take his free hand in both of mine, hating that I inadvertently brought up a sore subject.
We’ve talked a few times in the month we’ve known each other about our personal lives—families, upbringings, those kinds of things.
He’ll go on and on about his mom, sister, and niece.
But it’s now dawning on me that he’s never brought up his father.
“My dad left before I even got into kindergarten. One day he was there, the next day he was gone. No note. No goodbye. Literally pulled the ‘I’m going to get milk’ and never came back. ”
“Oh Maddox…” I suddenly hate that there’s this arm rest between us because I want to crawl onto his lap and hold him.
“No, it’s okay. It’s just… I’m actually not mad at him. At least, not anymore.”
“Really?” I can’t imagine ever being able to get to that spot in my life.
Then again, I was blessed that I never had to think about it.
My parents have been married for forty years and are currently planning a summer cross country RV trip.
“I’d be fuming and my therapist would be able to buy a new car with how many sessions I’d need. ”
My joke makes him half smile. “Oh don’t worry, my therapist is very well compensated.”
A man in therapy? Add this to the things Maddox Gallagher does that aren’t supposed to be sexy but absolutely are. Actually, this might take the top spot on my list, which overtakes him wearing an apron and a backward hat.
“She’s helped me realize that I’m who I am because of what I’ve been through,” he continues.
“Yeah, it sucks that I grew up without a dad. One day I hope I can be the dad I never got to have. But at the end of the day, I like the person I am. I hate thinking that I could be another version of myself. Sure, I’m not perfect.
There are some things I’ve done I won’t do again, but at the end of the day, I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished and that I’m not a horrible guy. ”
“Not horrible in the least.” We share a smile as a tiny blush comes across his cheekbones. “Do you think about that what-if? What your life might be like if he stayed?”
“Not really. Honestly, the one I think about the most is wondering if he’s watching me. If he sees the man I’ve become despite him. Did he see me win my rings? Did he watch my workouts at the draft combine? Does he tell people I’m his son? Or does he even care?”
Maddox is trying to be so strong right now, but I hear the slight crack in his voice.
“I bet he does, and he’s probably kicking himself for giving up the chance to be in your life,” I say. “And if he doesn’t care, or hates to see you successful, then fuck him and keep doing you. To me there’s no better revenge than thriving knowing people hate you for it.”
“The same can be said for you,” he says. “You thriving after your divorce? Your ex having to acknowledge it? Now that’s what I call sweet revenge.”
Fuck this arm rest.
I stand up and take the half step I need in order to situate myself on Maddox’s lap.
Before he can ask what I’m doing, my lips are on his, kissing him with all the compassion and pride I can feel after that admission—and how he simultaneously made me realize something that I hadn’t even realized I was doing for myself.