Chapter Forty-Three #2
That thought pops up in my head so suddenly that I almost step back, like I can escape my own brain, and it’s then Maddie looks up and spots me hovering in the doorway like a creep.
Her smile is immediate, just like before. It’s bright enough to cut through everything else in the room, almost enough to wipe away the ugly jealousy that claws into my shoulders and clings to me like a cape.
“There you are,” she says, jogging over and completely abandoning the models who still linger too close.
The closer she gets, though, the more noticeable the heat rolling off her becomes. Jesus Christ, she’s actually sweating, droplets gliding down the slope of her neck, dripping down her temple. The sight of it genuinely makes my brain stop functioning for a whole five seconds.
“You okay?” she asks, almost amused, those pale-blue eyes of hers glittering under the studio lights. “You kinda look like you’re buffering.”
Clearing my throat, I offer her a single nod before declaring, “Just a long day.”
“Mhm, sure,” she responds, narrowing her eyes a little too knowingly before she gestures toward the set behind her and the mostly naked dudes in nothing but tight boxer shorts that leave very little to the imagination.
They’re also sweaty, looking almost oil-slicked, and I eye them like I’ve just stepped in shit, and it takes Maddie’s short explanation to tear my daggered gaze away from the men.
“Underwear campaign. We’ve been shooting since you stopped by at lunch, the studio is boiling hot, and I’m so over these guys flexing under the lights like angry Ken dolls.
They’re nice and all, but there’s only so much I can withstand when it comes to witnessing buff dudes I’m not interested in trying to catch my attention with bottle-produced muscles, you know? ”
I can’t say I do, so I shake my head.
“What? You’ve never been seduced by a man with oily muscles? That doesn’t do it for you?” the little shit jokes, and I’ll be damned if my lip doesn’t twitch with a suppressed smile I refuse to give her.
“Can’t say I’ve ever had a hard-on for another dude, so no, oily muscles don’t do it for me. Anyway, we have muscles at home, and I’m a hundred percent positive that Caiden’s don’t come from the steroids those meatheads are clearly injecting,” I grumble.
Maddie freezes for all of two seconds before her beautiful laughter bursts out of her, loud enough that it draws everyone’s attention for a brief moment before everyone carries on about their day.
Well, everyone but one particularly beefy-looking model whose eyes linger on my girl a little too long for comfort.
That very same model waves at Maddie when she looks over her shoulder to see what I’m glaring at, and she only nods her head at the guy, but something gross unfurls low in my stomach. I instantly hate it, not because of her, but because of me.
Noticing the shift in my expression, she lowers her voice and asks, “Hey, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I answer, slightly clipped.
She knows it’s a lie, too, because her eyes stay on mine for a second too long. She’s observant, for sure. A little too observant, but it’s one of the things I like about her.
Keeping her voice soft, she says, “You sure? You kinda look pissed.”
Hell, I probably do, too. Only, I’m not pissed at her, because I certainly don’t have that right.
After all, she hasn’t done anything wrong.
It’s me. Where Maddie is constantly open and honest with each of us, never hiding anything from us no matter what it is, I’m the opposite.
I’m the one holding back, keeping pieces of myself locked away while she hands herself over with so much trust like it costs her absolutely nothing.
Yet she knows nothing about my past, because I’ve purposefully kept her in the dark about it.
Despite the guys’ encouragement, their blind faith in Maddie and her ability not to judge others unless they do something worthy of judgment, I haven’t built the courage to actually tell her everything about myself.
She doesn’t know why I hold back, even though I don’t want to.
She has no idea why every step closer to the big L-word feels like I’m standing too close to an edge I’m terrified to fall over, even if I’m one stumble away from falling headfirst over the cliff anyway.
All the while, I’m standing here fighting my jealousy over men standing near my girl while she’s doing her job, because seeing her half-dressed and glowing with perspiration makes something possessive and hungry wake up inside me. Something like nothing I’ve ever felt before in my life.
It’s not fair, and I know that. To her, to us, to the whole group.
Like she can sense the battle going on inside me, Maddie steps closer slowly and smiles gently. “Hey. What’s going on?”
I blink down at her, and her expression softens instantly.
“You don’t have to tell me. I’m here if you want to share whatever is happening in that pretty head of yours, but there’s no pressure,” she offers quietly, voice filled with sincerity and honesty, and I swallow hard.
“I’m not going anywhere, Rayne Cloud, okay?
Talk to me whenever you need or want to. ”
I’ll be fucked six ways to Sunday if that doesn’t almost make me cave automatically, her trust and warmth bleeding out of her like she has plenty of it to give away.
Mine, something dark inside me whispers, and this time I don’t push it away so fast. I let it linger, let it simmer until it’s boiling.
I lower my head until my forehead rests against hers, uncaring that she’s still slick with sweat, and for the first time in a long time, I realize I might actually be more afraid of losing her than I am of telling her the truth.
Smiling once more, Maddie keeps her head pressed against mine for a long moment before she pulls back and says, “I think we have roughly one more hour in us before we’re packing away.
You can hang out if you want, or you can chill in my office until I can come find you.
Either one works for me, but we have snacks here.
The good kind. I’m talking cakes, cookies, and nothing at all healthy.
Caid would have a conniption, so you can’t tell him I’ve survived on nothing but carbs and sugar all day, okay? ”
Once again, my lips twitch with a smile I want to give her but keep under wraps, because I’ve noticed her getting greedy for them. Instead, I nod and pull back, only to press a kiss to her forehead before muttering, “Take your time. I’ll hang out.”
“Okay. Be good. Make good choices. Learn something,” she quips, right before the little blue-haired devil skips away and delves right back into work like she was made to be a photographer.
And I can do nothing but find a seat nearby and watch, choking on my jealousy the entire time.