Chapter 5 Sophia
SOPHIA
I follow Maddox toward a door at the end of a small corridor. He opens it to reveal a bedroom taken up almost entirely by a giant four-poster bed and a small closet in the corner. It smells like him—woodsy and masculine—and realization hits me as I eye the rumpled bedsheets.
“Is this your room?” I ask.
“Yeah. But you can have it tonight. I’ll take the couch.”
When Maddox told me he was showing me to my room, I assumed he meant a guest bedroom. I didn’t realize he was planning to give me his own bed.
“I can’t take your room,” I say. “You’ve already done enough for me. I’ll be perfectly fine on the couch.”
He looks at me pointedly. “I’m not debating this with you, Sophia.”
We stare at each other for a moment, almost like we’re arguing with our eyes alone. But eventually, I relent. It’s clear Maddox has made up his mind.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “I feel like I’ve said it a million times, but really, thank you for everything.”
Maddox frowns. He doesn’t seem to like being thanked or praised. Heck, he seems to react to praise the same way other people would react to insults. Like kind words cause him pain. I can’t make sense of it, but I make a mental note to stop thanking him so much.
I’ll have to think of another way to show my appreciation.
The innocent thought sends my mind straight to the gutter.
I can’t help it. I’m standing next to a bed with a gorgeous grumpy giant who seems to be a heck of a lot nicer than he looks.
He seems to take up the entire room, his hulking frame at least a foot taller than mine.
But he’s not just tall—he’s so big and brawny.
And that beard…
And those eyes…
Maddox is looking at me, and for a moment, I’m scared he can read my thoughts all over my face.
His gaze makes me feel like I’m being held down.
I like it way more than I should. I could lose myself for hours in those eyes, and the room seems to melt away as we stare at each other for several beats too long.
It feels like an invisible hand is pulling my body forward, drawing me closer to Maddox.
I see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, his gaze dropping to my lips.
Is he about to kiss me?
The thought terrifies and exhilarates me all at once.
I don’t typically go around kissing strangers, but ever since Maddox walked out of the forest and came to my rescue—all scowls and silence—I’ve been drawn to him in a way I can’t explain.
A way that makes my heart thud and sends desire pulsing between my thighs.
But he doesn’t kiss me.
The moment falters, and I come back to myself all at once, feeling like an idiot.
Of course he wasn’t going to kiss me.
Don’t be ridiculous, Sophia.
“I’ll let you get some sleep,” Maddox says after a tense pause.
“Right.” I fiddle with my sleeve. “Sure. Thanks.”
He’s halfway out the door before he adds, “Help yourself to anything in the closet, if you want something to sleep in.”
I thank him one last time, then he’s gone, closing the door behind him.
I hear his heavy footsteps disappear down the hall and can’t help feeling a flicker of disappointment.
It’s not late. I wish I could have spent more time with him.
There’s still so much I don’t know about Maddox and his reclusive life up here in the mountains, and now I might never get a chance to learn more.
The snow will probably clear up by the morning, and Maddox will want me out of his hair as early as possible.
Then I’ll have to go back to reality. Back to searching for a job that doesn’t seem to exist.
With a sigh, I head to Maddox’s closet and open the doors, feeling my mood lift as his scent washes over me.
I shrug out of my clothes and pull on one of Maddox’s sweaters—an enormous, knitted green one that I can’t picture him ever wearing.
It’s warm and cozy and almost reaches my knees, and I sit on the bed, grabbing my jeans from the floor to get a tube of lip balm from the back pocket.
I coat my lips in cherry balm, then lean forward to stuff the tube back in my jeans.
It slips from my fingers, dropping to the floor and rolling under the bed.
Shoot.
I reach blindly under the bedframe, feeling nothing but bare wooden floorboards.
Finally, I sink onto my hands and knees, scanning the shadows.
I find the lip balm, but there’s something else just beside it.
As my hand tightens around the mystery object, my first thought is that it’s a book of some kind.
Maybe a hardback that accidentally slipped under the bed when Maddox was finished reading.
But as I pull the mystery object into the light, I realize it’s a photo album, made of shiny brown leather.
I lie back on Maddox’s bed, the photo album tight in my grip.
Curiosity overwhelms me as I stare at it.
I know it’s none of my business—it’s not right for me to go through Maddox’s private things.
He’s been so kind to let me stay, even giving up his own bed for me.
But I know I’m just kidding myself, acting like it’s some kind of dilemma.
I knew I was going to open it the minute I laid eyes on it.
I’m desperate to know more about Maddox, and a photo album seems like a good place to start.
Carefully, I peel open the first page. My heart warms at the sight of Maddox as a gangly teenager, with the same familiar, intense gaze as he stares into the camera.
There are several photos of him and a woman who I assume is his mom—a slender brunette with the same tanned skin as him.
As I turn the pages, Maddox gets older, and a little girl appears in the photos, a pale redhead with wide eyes and freckles.
His sister?
In the last picture, Maddox is in his mid-twenties.
He was already big and brawny back then, but his hair is cut short, and he’s clean shaven.
He’s wearing an Army uniform and a barely there smile.
The redhead looks about nine in this photo, hanging onto Maddox’s arm and baring her small teeth at the camera.
His mom stands on the other side of him, looking proud but also tired, like she hasn’t slept for a few nights.
There’s something strange about all the photos. I flip back through the pages, and that’s when it hits me. Most of them are misshapen, like they’ve been cut. In a few photos, I notice a stray hand on a shoulder, or the sliver of a man’s shirt, but whoever they belong to has been sliced away.
Weird.
I feel a flicker of unease before I turn back to the most recent photo and catch sight of a detail I missed before. On Maddox’s uniform, the surname Albrecht is emblazoned on the camouflage chest.
Maddox Albrecht.
Instinctively, I reach for my phone and search the name, wondering if Google can tell me anything more about this mysterious mountain man. But the search doesn’t load. The cell service is too bad out here, and the storm probably isn’t helping.
I slide the photo album back under the bed where I found it, turning off the light and lying on my back, facing the ceiling.
Questions whirl around inside my brain as I think about the photos.
Maddox said he didn’t have any family out here, so why did he leave his mom and sister to live a reclusive life on Cherry Mountain?
And what made him cut all those family photos? Who did he cut away?
I’m desperate to figure it all out, but my eyelids are starting to feel heavy, the sound of the storm like a lullaby. After a few more minutes, the world fades to black, and all my questions slip away as sleep carries me under.
“Aargh!”
I jolt awake with a gasp, blinking at the darkness surrounding me.
What the heck was that?
I’m sure something woke me. A scream. Someone in pain. My heart thuds as I sit frozen on the bed, listening out for the sound. Just when I’m thinking it must have been the wind, I hear it again. Quieter this time. A muffled shout. A grunt of pain.
Maddox.
I jump out of bed, hurrying down the corridor toward the living room. The fire is dying down, embers burning dark orange in the hearth, but I can still make out Maddox on the couch. A thin film of sweat glistens on his skin, his face contorted into a mask of anger.
“No,” he mumbles, tossing against the couch cushions. “Stop…no…let me out…let me…alone…leave them.”
My heart thuds as I scurry toward him, kneeling by the couch and shaking him gently.
“Maddox,” I whisper, my voice getting louder as I try to wake him. “Maddox, it’s not real. You’re dreaming. Please wake up.”
It takes another few moments of shaking his shoulders and saying his name before he finally snaps out of it, opening his eyes with a sharp inhale. He stares up at me.
“Sophia?”
His voice sounds even deeper now that he’s just woken up. It’s not the time to notice things like that, but I can’t help the shiver that runs through me when he says my name.
“Hi,” I say softly. “You were having a nightmare.”
Some of the tension seems to seep out of him as he looks at me.
“Shit,” he mutters. “Sorry for waking you.”
“It’s okay.”
He’s shirtless beneath the blanket draped over him, his bare arms exposed, thick and bulging. I can make out the dusting of hair at the top of his chest, the blanket covering the rest, and I force myself to swallow.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask. “Your nightmare?”
Maddox’s brows knit together. “I can’t remember the details.”
I can tell he’s lying, but I don’t push it. Something about this moment feels fragile—almost intimate. The dying light of the fire, the sound of the storm outside, the two of us alone in this cabin together…
“Thanks for waking me up,” Maddox says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“No problem.” I smile at him. “I’m just happy you’re okay.”
My hand is still braced against his burly shoulder from when I was shaking him awake. His skin is warm against my fingers, and I’m desperate to run my hands down his chest. I want to feel every inch of his hardened muscles, learn the shape of his body…
Oh God, I think I might be losing my mind.
There must be something in the air up here.
Maddox’s icy blue eyes pierce mine, almost like he knows what I’m thinking. Everything else fades away: all the stress from losing my job, the fear from the past few weeks. None of it matters. Right now, Maddox Albrecht is the only thing that exists, and I never want the moment to end.