“None taken,” she lies. I know it’s a lie by the way her cheeks are still stained pink. In fact, the flush has spread down to her chest.
I’m saved by the bells on the door, though, as Pax returns, tossing Mila’s keys to her.
“All fixed,” he tells her. “Good thing I have an extra key. You’re good to go, pregnant brain.”
She shakes her head, but thanks him. “There is one more thing before you go,” she mentions. “Could you move some boxes for me in the back? Supplies came this morning.”
Pax stares at her in surprise. “Good lord. Have all of my lectures finally paid off? Thank you for not trying to move them yourself, for once.”
Mila smiles gently, but as they walk away she turns and mouths Overprotective as she points to Pax’s back. Madison grins.
“He is overprotective,” she tells me as the other two disappear into a back room. “But it’s sweet. I never thought Pax had it in him when I first met him. He’s like a different person. He had sort of a shitty childhood, but he’s going to be a great dad. Speaking of him, though, I didn’t realize that you were friends.”
“We ran into each other at the gym this morning. And then we had a little run-in with Jared over lunch. Pax had my back again, which I appreciate. He’s a stand-up guy,” I answer. “I should’ve asked him if he served. He seems like that kind of guy.”
Madison practically chokes. “Served? As in the military? Um, no. Pax used to be kind of messed up. The military wasn’t something that would have appealed to him.”
I eye her. “Messed up?”
Madison stares at me, her blue eyes very dark and instantly troubled.
“Yeah. When he was seven, his mom was killed in front of him. It messed him up pretty bad. For years he couldn’t even remember exactly what happened. That’s how bad it was. I thought he was beyond saving, but Mila didn’t give up. She sees the good in people better than I do. And she was right. Pax came through it just fine. Eventually.”
I stare at her in horror. His own mother was killed in front of him? I thought I’d seen some shit.
“Damn,” I answer. “That’s terrible. That scar on his hand… was that part of it?”
Madison nods. “Yeah.” She suddenly looks uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. This is his story to tell. I don’t feel like I should talk about it.”
I nod slowly. “That’s fine. He might share it himself sometime over a beer.”
Madison actually looks guilty as she curls into a red chair. “He might, and if he does, good for him. He got counseling last year when all of his memories came to light. But I’m a big believer that you can’t talk things out too much. The more the better.”
I cringe at that as I take the chair next to her, because I strongly disagree. I don’t see the point in talking about shit. People can’t fix what happened to you.
“Let’s change the subject,” I suggest. “How’s your boyfriend? Did he get his candy-ass pants cleaned?”
She stares at me solemnly, but the corner of her lip is twitching again, making me wonder why. Is she glad I asked about that guy? Is this a game of cat and mouse?
“What makes you think Ethan is my boyfriend?” she counters, a question with a question. Classic deflection.
Now it’s my lip that’s twitching, but not from amusement. I hate games.
“Well, the two of you seemed pretty cozy the other night. I felt bad about jogging right through the middle of your date,” I finally answer.
She stares into my eyes and I see the blatant question there.
Do you want to play?
I stare back with an answer.
Yes.
Madison leans back in her chair, her eyes pointedly on my face, the air charged around us. The attraction between us is potent, yet we’re sitting here talking about her date with another guy.
We’re definitely playing now. Only right now I’m not sure who is the cat and who is the mouse.
“Oh, don’t feel bad,” she says smoothly. “Ethan and I are very old friends. It wasn’t a bother at all. Until you stopped and pushed him around, that is.”
I snort. “Your candy-ass boyfriend started it. And I didn’t lay one finger on him. If I wanted to push him around, you’d both know it.”
Madison doesn’t react to that, her face is a perfect expressionless mask.
“Were you dating Ethan when we met at the club?” I ask curiously. Madison doesn’t seem like the type to cheat, but then what the hell do I know? My training is in military tactics. I honestly don’t know shit about the inner workings of the female mind.
She flushes again, probably thinking back to that night and how she was so very willing to go home with me.
Thinking about it actually stirs my dick to life and I shift in my seat, picturing the way her nipple tasted in my mouth and how her soft lips felt against mine. The simple thought makes me hard and I shift my hand so that it’s covering my telltale crotch.
“Of course not,” Madison answers quickly, her slender hand fluttering up to push her hair behind her ear. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“I didn’t think so,” I tell her. “I just thought I’d ask.”
“Why? Looking out for Ethan’s best interests?” she asks me sharply. I stare down at her, my eyes frozen on hers… unwavering.
“No… my own. You aren’t really into Ethan. You’re into me.”
I drop my hand now, until it rests softly on the edge of her knee, my knuckles barely grazing her thigh.
I am sure that she wants me, although I’m not sure exactly why.
It was there the other night even when she was with Ethan. It’s in her eyes, in the way she finds me wherever I’m at in the room. It’s crackling in the air between us.
She wants me. And I want her.
Fucking her would be like harnessing a raging summer storm. And some weird part of me wants to make up for melting down on her that first night, to prove that I’m not a weak-ass pussy.