“Do you? This is why I warned you to stay away from her. I didn’t want to be put in the middle when she was hurting.”
“I’m hurting, too,” I admit aloud for the first time. “I can’t sleep. I lose focus at work and can’t remember details I never used to forget. I…I love her.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” God, I feel like a weight has been lifted. I love Madison. I love every single thing about her.
Mateo takes a minute to study me. “If this is for real, then there’s nothing I’d like more than for you guys to be together. But are you sure?”
I glare at him. “What do you mean am I sure?”
“Let me clarify that. Let’s say you had to choose between her and your job. Which would you choose?”
“Is this a trick question? I already chose both.”
“How’d that work out for you?”
He’s got a point. “Things are different now. The job is irrelevant.”
“True, but Madison’s been hurt enough, and the person who gets her has to be willing to give up everything for her. So. Door A is Madison. Door B is ZipMeds. Which one do you walk through?”
I take my time to think about this. I love my job. I’ve said it all along. It sets me apart. From my siblings, my friends, the coworkers I left behind at my old job. Yet things are different. The drive is there, always will be, no matter the company I’m working for. It’s that further realization—no matter the company—that makes my answer easy. That and the fact there is no other girl like Madison. She’s what matters most. She’s what makes love worth having and keeping. She makes me feel like I’m enough just as I am.
“A.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.”
“So you’ll tell me where she’s at?”
“I will, but…” He sighs like he’s still indecisive. “Shit, man. She’s got a date tonight and I set it up.”
“What the fuck?” I say, all indignant as I turn my body toward him like I’m gearing up for a fight.
“Chill, dude. It isn’t like I knew you were going to come to your senses.”
I take a deep breath, hold it, let it out slowly. “You should have asked me first.”
He grunts. “I hate to tell you this, but you’re not the keeper of her social calendar. Plus, it just sort of happened. There was no premeditation. I was at her apartment when I got a call from a guy who coaches summer soccer with me. Madison was laughing at something and he heard, asked who it was, and a minute later I had them set up.”
She does have a great laugh.
“I don’t want her to go out with him,” I say. This makes me a childish and possessive prick, I know, but the thought of any other guy near her is agonizing. “Can you cancel?”
Mateo laughs. “I’m not going on the date, so no.”
“How well do you know this guy?”
“Not well, but enough to think he’ll be nice to Maddy. She deserves a good night out.”
There’s not a chance in hell she’s having a good night with anyone but me. I run my hand down my neck, thinking. I’ve crashed her other dates, why not this one? “You know where they’re meeting?”
“Yes, but—”
“You’ve got to tell me.”
“Elliot.”
“I love her, remember? If our roles were reversed and we were talking about you and Teague, you’d demand the same thing.”
I’ve got him now. He spills the time and place. “Don’t mess it up,” he says.
I promise him I won’t. Then, “I forgot to ask you, did you get the ring?”
My roommate smiles bigger than I’ve ever seen. “I did. I can’t fucking wait to make Teague my wife.”
“What’s the plan?”
“I don’t know yet, but I’m thinking about asking her when we’re in Vegas next month and then actually doing the deed there, too.”
“Bro, she’ll never go for that.”
“I know, but like I said, I can’t wait. I’m hoping she’ll agree to get married there, then come home to plan a big wedding and we’ll do it again, this time in front of all our family and friends.”
“That could work.”
“Odds would probably be higher if I had some backup.”
“Meaning?”
“Go get your girl, and then you and Madison and Levi and Harper can join us. Having our best friends there will make my plan much more doable, not to mention more special for Teague.”
“The six of us. I like the sound of that.”
“Me, too.”
I can’t help it—I hug my best friend. He hugs me back.
Love found me by accident. I wasn’t looking for it when Madison showed up at my office, eager, innocent, and so beautiful. I think back on all the times I saw her before that morning but never really looked at her. She belonged to someone else, so I never ventured beyond a brief “hello.”
Now she belongs with me.
I hope I’m not too late.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Madison
The best way to get over a broken heart is to go on a date, right? That’s what I told myself when Mateo played matchmaker and set me up with his coaching colleague, Kyler. The guy sounded nice enough when Mateo put him on speakerphone, so I figured why not? I’ve moved on with my professional life. It’s time to move on with my personal life, too, even if it’s difficult.
I get to the restaurant first and the host seats me at a table for two near the back. He pulls out the chair facing the wall and a row of tables. Normally, I like to sit looking at the restaurant so I can people-watch, but I don’t want to be rude, so I take the seat. A funny feeling fills my chest as I notice a huge bouquet of red roses on the middle of the table across from me. There’s someone sitting behind the flowers, but I can’t make the person out. It’s a man by the looks of the long jean-clad legs underneath the table.
The person shifts slightly, and a strange sense of recognition prickles my skin. Weird, since I can’t see him.
A waiter jolts my attention to hand me a menu and asks if I’d like anything to drink while I wait for my companion. Just a glass of water, I tell him. I open the menu to keep busy, reading through the selections while also peeking over at the roses. The man’s date is late, too.
“Hello, Madison?”
I look up to find a good-looking guy with light-brown hair and hazel eyes. “Yes. Hi.”
“Wow, you’re gorgeous. Thanks for agreeing to meet me.” He takes the seat across the table, blocking the roses. His eyes dip to my chest.
I’m wearing a simple pale-pink sundress with a scoop neckline and cutaway shoulders. It’s not revealing but does accentuate my curves. “Thanks for asking,” I say, slightly uncomfortable for some reason. He’s staring a little too intently, like he’s never seen a girl in a dress before.
“How does the menu look? I’m starving. I haven’t eaten in three days.”
“You haven’t eaten?” I ask, alarmed.
“Not solid food. I’ve been on a juice cleanse.” He opens his menu. “Ever done one?”
“No, I can barely make it between meals,” I say, relaxing now that I know the common reason for his hunger. “I’ve read it’s smart to eat several small meals a day, so I do that a lot.”
“I’ve read that, too, but my girl—nutritionist says it’s good to fast, too.”
Alarm bells sound in my head and my body grows immediately tense at his blunder. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Sorry, that slipped out by mistake. My ex-girlfriend is a nutritionist.”
“Ex?” I ask to be sure because there is no way in hell I’ll ever be the other woman, even if it’s just a casual dinner.
“We broke up eight days ago.”
“That’s not very long. Are you sure you want to be out with me?” I’m not sure I want to be out with him. The more time that ticks by, the more weird vibes I get.
“You are really beautiful,” he chooses to say rather than answer my question.<
br />
“Thanks.” Okay, buddy, pick a different topic before I pretend I have to go to the hospital to visit my sick aunt.
“Ready to order?” the waiter asks.
If Kyler wasn’t starving, I’d say I needed a minute, just in case I decide to bolt.
“Yeah. I’ll have a double bacon cheeseburger with fries, please,” Kyler says. “And whatever you have on tap.”
I laugh out loud. I can’t help it. “That’s what you’re eating?”
“I said I was hungry.”
So much for keeping his system clean. “I’ll have a Caesar salad with shrimp, please,” I tell the waiter. He nods and gathers our menus, leaving me under the watchful eye of my date.
“So yeah, April—that’s my ex—thought we should see other people. Or more specifically, she thought I should.”
That’s strange. “Why?”
Kyler looks around the restaurant, to make sure no one is eavesdropping, I guess. I take a moment to look over his shoulder at the table with the roses. The man sitting there is still waiting for his date.
“I’m a virgin,” he whispers.
Oh.
“And April isn’t,” he adds like that explains the situation. At my frown he continues. “She wants me to lose my virginity to someone else. Maybe have a few one-night stands. She suggested I hook up with experienced women and that way when we get back together, I’ll have the skills to keep her satisfied.”
I choke on my water. I really didn’t need to know all that. We could have had a nice dinner, some normal conversation, then said goodbye. But noooo. I’m stuck with another lunatic. Do I look like someone experienced? Or like someone who puts out on the first date?
“I choked, too, when she suggested we go on a break. Do you think…” For the rest of the meal he goes on and on about April because, he says, “you’re easy to talk to.” I have no idea why he thinks that. Probably because I’m speechless as he recounts their relationship while on a date with me. I also shovel my salad into my mouth so fast I don’t have time to talk.
This date cannot be over soon enough. And if he thinks for even a second this is leading anywhere, he’s delusional.
Boldly delusional because I cringe when he tells me he can “flex his penis and make it wiggle” and would I be interested in seeing a demonstration later? That would be a hard no. (I silently crack myself up at the pun.) I prayed all my bad dates were behind me, but apparently not.
“What do you think about shaved balls?” he asks next, barely taking a breath in between inappropriate questions. “Better for intercourse or does it not matter?”
Oh my God, this guy is way too comfortable with me. “Kyler.”
“Yes?” His eyebrows shoot up as he finally stops talking.
“Thanks for dinner, but I need to get going.”
“No problem.” He waves the waiter over and hands him his credit card. At least he has good manners when it comes to paying for dinner.
“If you’ll excuse me a minute, I’m going to use the restroom,” I say.
“I’ll be right here waiting.”
Swell. I should give him some pointers when I get back. Not that I’m an expert, but I think most girls would be turned off by his forwardness. When I return to my seat, though, he’s no longer sitting there. The table is completely cleared except for a piece of chocolate cake at my place. I sit down thinking Kyler must have ordered it and gotten up to use the restroom, too.
“Madison?” the host who seated me says. “Your friend had to leave. He wanted me to tell you good night.”
“Oh, okay.” Strange, but okay.
He hands me a small white envelope. “This, along with the dessert, is from the gentleman.” He nods his head in the direction of the roses.
“The guy with the flowers?” I ask with surprise.
“Yes,” he says, then walks away like this sort of thing happens all the time.
I have no idea what to make of this. Is “the gentleman” worried about me seeing his face? Is he embarrassed his date never showed and figures he’ll try with me? Am I supposed to pick up my cake and join him?
I look down at the envelope and suddenly the air in the room changes. A hot, one-of-a-kind current of awareness raises goose bumps on my skin. My heart skips a beat. The wings of a million butterflies flutter deep in my belly.
And I know. I don’t have to see his face to know who’s been sitting in this restaurant with me the whole time.
My hands tremble as I pull the note out of the envelope.
Madison,
Je t’aime
Always,
Elliot
I look up and there he is, standing beside the table looking beyond handsome in jeans and a royal blue button-down, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“Mind if I sit?” God, I’ve missed his voice.
“No.”
“‘No’ you don’t mind or ‘no’ I can’t sit?”
“I don’t mind.” I’ve dreamed about being this close to him again a gazillion times.
“You look beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you. So do you.” He smiles at that. “How did you know I was here?”
“I got the intel from Mateo.”
Traitor. Although I’m really not upset about Mateo telling him anything about me. I think I secretly hoped he would. “I didn’t realize you two talked about me like I’m a secret project.”
“Forget about Mateo. Would you like to know what the note says?”
“I’d like to know what you said to my date. What if I wanted to leave with him?” I fire back as I run my finger along the edge of the note card.
Elliot’s heart-stopping blue eyes stay glued to mine. “I made sure that wouldn’t happen. From the minute you got here, I had a plan.”
“Kind of presumptuous of you. Not to mention rude and—”
“Would you like to know what it says?” he repeats, knowing my limited understanding, but love of, French. He leans forward, elbows on the table. His yummy scent hits my nose and I can’t help but lean in myself.
I really, really want to know, but I kind of like making Elliot squirm a little. He’s yet to apologize for how we left things. “Will that get you to leave me alone?”
“I’m never leaving you alone again.”
Be still my heart.
He reaches across the table, moves the chocolate cake aside, and takes my hand in his, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “I’ve missed you so damn much, Mads. I was an idiot, and I’m sorry for not saying or doing the right things when I should have.”
I swallow nervously. This is a good start to whatever he came here for. “I’m sorry I didn’t have the guts to quit to your face.”
“I’m not. If you had, I probably would have tried to convince you to stay and you wouldn’t be where you are now. I’m in awe of what you’ve accomplished in such a short time. Someone must have been a good influence.”
“It’s not like you to fish for compliments.”
“It’s safe to say I’m a little out of my element here.”
“What do you mean?”
He takes my hand in both of his now. “I guess I need some reassurance. For the first time in my life I feel at home with someone, and that someone is you. You’re the thing that matters most to me. Need a CFO for your new company? I’m your man.”
“You quit ZipMeds?” I’m shocked.
“Not yet, but you’re more important to me than any job. You’re the reason my heart beats faster and the reason my mind goes blank. My head’s in the clouds in the best possible way when I’m with you, and wherever you go is where I want to be. I love you, Madison. Je t’aime.”
I shake with adoration for this man. He loves me. In English and French! After weeks of missing him and trying to talk myself out of loving him, this moment is everything. He came after me.
“We do work well together,” I say, purposely drawing this out a little longer.
“Amazingly well.”
“But
I’m not hiring you.”
“No?” Worry lines crease his forehead and between his brows.
He’s so cute and sexy and I’ve tortured him long enough. “No. ZipMeds is where you belong. And I belong with you outside of it. I love you, too.”
His mouth locks on mine a second later, hungry, devouring, greedy, and I love it. Elliot’s kisses are always powerful, but this one carries more purpose than any before it. Like he’s staking his claim not for a weekend but for the future. “Take me home with you,” he whispers against my lips.
“Mmm…’kay.”
He grabs the roses and my hand. “Do you want the cake to go?”
I shake my head. “I just want you.”
He kisses me again. “You’ve got me.”
“Did you have the host put me at that table?” I ask on our way out of the restaurant.
“I did.”
“So I could stare at the roses and wonder about the mysterious man behind them?”
His eyes flit to mine. “Did you?”
“Maybe.”
“It killed me seeing you on a date with another guy. The second you got up from the table he was out of here.”
“Elliot!”
“What? Dude was somewhere he didn’t belong. Now should I list all the places you belong?” He pushes the restaurant’s front door open with his shoulder.
“Okay,” I say, all breathy.
“My house, my bed, my shower, my car, my porch, my backyard, my couch, on top of me, underneath me, riding me, at baseball games, dinner dates, movie nights, in coffee shops, art galleries, Paris.” He lets go of my hand to brush my hair behind my ear. “I want you next to me always.”
I blink back tears of happiness.
He kisses one eyelid, then the other. “I love you.”
I cup his face in my hands. “I love you back.”
“You’d better get your car before I show you how much right here on the sidewalk.” He slides a finger down the middle of my chest, causing zings of pleasure to fan out. “And I don’t care who sees.”
“Where’s your car?” I squeak out.
Too Hard to Resist Page 25
