“I’ll be back.”
“Wait,” I call out, trying to gain my strength to move forward when my hands are digging into the counter out of pure frustration. “I don’t want you going out there by yourself.”
“I’ll be fine. Be right back.”
Before I can stop her, she’s out of the apartment, giving me a goddamn moment to catch my breath. What an epic fail.
She doesn’t want me.
She. Doesn’t. Fucking. Want. Us.
Chapter Fourteen
KINSLEY
I wish my best friend wasn’t Maddox.
Because I need someone to talk to and Joan is the only person I know here, and she’s not the type of person I want to talk to about this.
I’m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for Maddox to get home. Their game went into extra innings, which they lost in the eleventh, and he’s getting home incredibly late. I already walked Herman and tucked him in, and now I’m trying to decide if I need to pretend I’m sleeping or lie awake for him.
My mom, if she wasn’t so crazy about me moving back home, would be a great person to talk to, but if I told her about the weird feelings I’m having about Maddox, she’d most likely tell me it’s indigestion and if I went home, she’d help me take care of it.
So instead, I’m lying here, staring, my heart in my throat as I think about last night in the kitchen. His hands were all over me and it felt amazing. So damn good that I nearly wept from the feel of his rough palms scraping along my skin. I couldn’t help it. I needed to return the touch. I had to be closer, to take in his scent, his masculinity, the strength in his shoulders, the thickness of his neck, the roughness of his jaw. He’s all male, and I’m addicted to discovering all new grown-up aspects about him.
And when I had my body wrapped around him, my lungs barely taking in any air with how close he was to my mouth, how easy it would have been to kiss him, I knew I needed to back away. I was getting too close, crossing a line I’m not sure he wants to cross.
The thing with Maddox is he’s always been so physical with me. Even when he was dating Jamie, he held my hand, touched my leg, kept me close to him because we were each other’s person—we still are—so even though from the outside it might seem like he’s making a move, I know it’s Maddox being Maddox. He might be tough on the exterior, but inside, he’s an unselfish human being looking to be loved. I hand it over it to him in any way possible. With ease.
But now, I’m starting to feel things for him, heavy things, more than friendship things. Feelings you carry around in your heart, that imprint your brain, that ignite your soul.
I’m falling in love with the man and that’s fucking terrifying. So terrifying that I’ve been crying about it for the last half hour. I never saw this coming, not in a million years.
Yes, I love him, with all my heart, but it was the everlasting love that a friendship can only carry. I find him attractive of course, I would be a dumbass to not notice how good-looking Maddox is, but I’ve never acted on those feelings. But for some reason, since I moved in with him, seeing him in his personal space, it’s . . . hell, it’s changed me.
Not to mention what I’ve put him through. He still loves me, and allows me to change his life, to alter his routine with a smile, with a hug, with open arms.
He sees me for who I am, not for who he wants me to be. He doesn’t care that I’m insane and psychotic about the earth and animals; he embraces it.
He relents. When I wanted to do good—give a safe space to a dog—despite him not wanting animals in his apartment, he gave in. He reasons. How Maddox reacted to Joan and Melvin’s surprise visit, gutted me. I’m not normally so thoughtless, and I knew not respecting Maddox’s need for privacy was so, so wrong. He’s always been a private person. I definitely stepped over the line on that one, yet . . . he didn’t shut me out, or even worse, kick me out. His gentleness, how he quietly explained what he’d reacted to . . . well, I didn’t deserve that.
He’s patient.
He speaks softly.
God, I love him so much.
Cue the tears. They crest over my eyes in a flood of emotion just as the front door unlocks.
Oh fuck.
I quickly wipe them away and turn from his side. He sent me a text message a while ago to let me know he was on his way home. I didn’t respond, just in case I wanted it to look like I was sleeping and thankfully I didn’t, because I’m faking it.
I’m faking it so hard.
From the other room, I hear him talk softly to Herman. “Hey, old man. She asleep? Hope you took care of her while I was gone.” I squeeze my eyes shut, allowing more tears to fall. “Have a good night, Herman.”
Maddox’s feet fall down the hallway and I steel myself when he enters the room. The lights are out and the curtains are barely parted, letting in just a little light. I hear him stop for a few beats. Is he staring at me? Judging if I’m sleeping? I can feel his gaze on me. I’m that in tune with the man.
On a heavy breath, he enters the bathroom where I hear him run the water for his toothbrush. I quickly wipe away at my tears again and take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay. Deep breaths and you will be fine.
I take a few more breaths, attempting to rid myself of the shakiness in my limbs just before he turns the light off, and I hear him walk toward the bed.
Will he spoon me like he did the other night?
Last night he didn’t, and I’m not sure if it was because I scared him in the kitchen with how much I was touching him, caressing him. When I turned my back toward him, he didn’t reach for me, he didn’t pull me into his chest, and he didn’t hold me all night long. He didn’t even hold my hand.
I missed it. I miss everything about his simple touch when we share the same bed, and it kept me wondering if I’d crossed that line.
He slips under the covers and plugs his phone into his charger. When I feel him turn under the covers, I hold my breath, waiting for his large arm to slip around me, but when it doesn’t, my heart sinks once again.
I totally fucked things up. That must be why he’s not holding me. I pushed things too far in the kitchen, even though he was the one to initiate the touching. It was him just being him. I slid my hands up his arm, over his shoulders and practically massaged his neck and face while taking in every texture of his features.
This is why I need to keep my heart as far away from this man as possible. I’m breaking with every passing moment that he doesn’t return the love I carry for him. I’m certainly nothing like any of his harem, so it’s no surprise he can’t see me as anything other than his best friend. Maybe it’s time I start looking for a shared apartment somewhere. Maybe Marcy might know of someone I can ask. Maybe it’s time . . .
* * *
“What the hell are you doing up?” Maddox asks, coming into the kitchen his eyes barely open as he stumbles toward the coffee pot.
Once again, he’s in nothing but his boxer briefs, just like every other morning, but this time he looks even more sexy. I’m not sure if it’s from the attraction that’s growing deep within me, or if he just looks extra handsome this morning. But seeing him walk toward me causes my stomach to flip with nerves, especially when he passes by me, his hand sliding over my hip right before he grabs a mug and picks up the coffee pot and serves himself a cup.
Turning and leaning against the counter, he brings the mug up to his chest and smiles at me.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing.” I shake my head and move away, but not before he catches my wrist and brings me against his chest. His bare, warm chest meets my cheek, and I’m pretty sure it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt. It takes everything in me not to rub my cheek back and forth over his thick chest. Because that would make me seem desperate.
“Good morning, babe. I missed you yesterday.”
“Good morning,” I say softly.
He pulls away and lifts my chin. “Everything okay?”
I give him a half-smile, as it’s a
ll I can muster. “Everything is great.”
He studies me. “Not buying it. What’s going on?” He sets his coffee down, lifts me by the waist and sits me on the counter, only to straddle me with his arms, staring at me.
That was heavenly, being handled by him like that. I just want to make that known.
“Nothing’s going on,” I say, reaching out and pushing his hair to the side.
Hell, stop touching him, Kinsley. That’s what got you in trouble the first time. Hands to yourself at all times.
“Then why are your eyes sad and rimmed with red?”
Damn it, he really does know me way too well. Not wanting to tell him the truth, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “The shelter. I feel the pressure to find these amazing animals homes.”
He studies me, for a few long, torturous seconds, those brilliant eyes of his digging into my very soul, trying to figure me out. And when he replies, I know he doesn’t believe me once again, but he drops it. “You will find them homes. I know you will.” He slides his hand up my thigh and it sends a wave of tingles straight to my core, hollowing me out with need for more. “Give yourself some time to get situated first. I know you’re Wonder Woman, but even she needed to take a second.”
“Wonder Woman? Really? See, I always said you liked the brunettes with boobs.”
“Pretty sure I like blondes with next to nothing in the boob department, babe.” Then he lifts up, winks, and walks away.
What the . . .
I swallow hard, my heart hammering as I watch his chiseled back and perfect rear retreat down the hall, each and every muscle working back and forth with each step.
He did not just say that, did he?
And did he mean it? Because he winked, and winking always means joking, right?
I want to run up to him, pull on his arm, ask him what he meant by that, if he was joking or if he truly meant he liked me liked me.
I press my hand to my forehead and let out a long sigh. When did this become so difficult? This is Maddox, I know him better than anyone else. I should be able to read him. But for some reason, I’m having a challenging time when it comes to this side of things. The romantic side, the flirting, the beyond intimate touching.
Feeling resigned, I hop off the counter, set my mug down, and head down to the bedroom where Maddox is taking a shower. Heat invades my cheeks from the thought of him naked just one wall away—soaping his body, all the contours and divots. Does he . . . does he ever jack off in the shower?
Of course he does, he’s a man.
But how many times has he done it since I moved in? According to him, he hasn’t been seeing his “brothel” of women, but then again, I don’t know that for sure. He could be meeting up with them at some point.
I shake my head. No. Maddox wouldn’t lie about that. If he’s not having sex, then he’s not. Which means, he’s most likely jacking off in the shower.
I’m tempted to lean my ear against the door, listen carefully for any grunts, but that would be a total invasion of privacy and a detriment to my already wilting heart that’s crashing and tumbling for this man every second of the day.
What would be best is if I get the hell out of here. According to the schedule, Maddox leaves tonight after their game and they head to the West Coast for two series, which means seven days away from him. Maybe that’s what I need. Seven days with just me and Herman.
I can get my head on straight and maybe start thinking about possibly moving out, because that seems to be the problem. Living with him. I never lived with him before. And I never had thoughts about him like this either, so the sooner I move out, the sooner I can get things back to normal.
Feeling positive about my new plan, I quickly change into a pair of lightweight cargo pants—perfect for working at an animal shelter—strap a bra around me—sigh—and throw on one of my favorite shirts of a cat holding a leg bone. It says, “I found this humorous.” Just knowing I have it on makes me chuckle.
I don’t bother with makeup, because what’s the point? And I put on my shoes. I’m halfway through tying the second shoe when the bathroom door opens and Maddox steps out, wearing nothing but a low-slung towel around his waist. His hip divots stick out, and I see the faintest line of hair below his navel that disappears under his towel.
His hair is dark like the night and wet, not dripping, but just wet enough to up his sexy level tenfold. The hair on his pecs is freshly shaved, giving new meaning to their definition, and his abs seem to be even more distinct than before. I’m not sure if it’s because he did a thirty-minute ab workout in the shower, or if it’s the water that’s making them shiny and enticing.
When I catch his facial expression, his brow is pinched as he leans against the doorframe. “Leaving already?”
“Oh yeah, want to get a jump-start on things.”
“It’s barely six thirty.”
Yup, that’s a jump-start all right. “Picking up bagels for the girls and some volunteers that are coming in.” Wasn’t planning on it, but now I am.
“Okay.”
I stand from the bed and pat my legs for no apparent reason other than I’m feeling incredibly awkward, and like I don’t know how to act around him.
“So, uh, away trip. Arizona and California, huh? Ever been there?” I joke, but it comes off flat and not funny at all.
He pushes off the doorframe and walks toward me, swagger in his every step.
He takes my chin in his hand and says, “Are you going to miss me?”
Unfortunately, more than you know.
“Nah.” I wave my hand. “Herman and I will be celebrating, the whole house to ourselves without someone walking behind us, vacuuming and keeping the place spotless.”
He smirks and brings me closer to his mouth and for a brief second, he holds me in place, our lips inches apart right before he diverts to my cheek and places a soft kiss there. When he pulls away, I’m left breathless and so aware of his body that it physically feels like a gut punch that I didn’t get to feel his lips on mine.
“I’ll call you later. Have a good day, babe.”
He heads back to the bathroom and for the love of God, I scramble to grab my things, hook Herman to his leash, and get the hell out of there.
Air. I need air.
* * *
“There’s something different about that cream cheese that I can’t quite place,” Marcy says as she wipes her mouth with a napkin. We’ve been busy this morning with some unfortunate poop incidents in three of the kennels. Thankfully, I got us all bodysuits to wear for those types of situations, so our work clothes were unharmed. Marcy was very happy for the purchase today.
But we’re finally able to sit down and enjoy some bagels.
“It’s vegan cream cheese.”
“Ah.” Marcy nods. “That makes sense. It wasn’t bad, just different.”
“You get used to it after a while. I bought the normal cream cheese but in plain. Sorry, I should have said something.”
“No, that’s fine. I really like chives in my cream cheese, and that’s why I went for it. It was different, but I could see myself getting used to it. But for the volunteers, let’s make sure we label the container.” She chuckles.
“Good idea. I’ll go get—”
My words fall short as three very tall, very broad-shouldered men step into the lobby of the shelter. All wearing black Rebels shirts that cling to their chests. Two have their hair done, while the one I know is wearing a black Rebels hat, turning him into that dark, sinister character everyone knows on the TV screen.
“Maddox,” I say on a labored breath. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
“Hey babe,” he says, coming up to me and giving me a hug. He turns me to the guys behind him. “You remember Linc.” Lincoln pulls me into a hug as well. “And this is Jason Orson, our catcher.” And like a pinball, I bounce between the sturdy men as Jason hugs me as well.
“I’ve heard so much about you.” Jason leans over to Lincoln and says,
“She is fuck-hot.”
My eyes widen as Lincoln says, “Told you.” He gives me a sly once-over and then winks, just as Maddox retrieves me back to his side.
“Um . . . hello?” Marcy says. And when we all turn around, I see dazzled stars in her eyes as she takes in the brigade of hot baseball players.
Unsure of what’s happening, I say, “Marcy, this is my friend Maddox and uh, his friends Lincoln and Jason.”
“Your friend is Maddox Paige from the Chicago Rebels?” The poor lady looks like she’s about to faint.
Being the kind soul that he is, Maddox walks up to Marcy and lends a hand. “Nice to meet you. Kinsley has told me so much about you and all the wonderful things you’re doing here at the shelter.” Just as he finishes, Herman comes up to him and nuzzles his nose against Maddox’s black jeans.
Oh. Lord. As he squats down and scratches Herman behind the ears while saying, “Hey old man,” I think an ovary popped. Is that a thing? It’s got to be a thing . . .
“It’s so wonderful to have you here.” Marcy brims with excitement. “Would you like a tour?”
“Would love one,” Jason says. “And I’m feeling like a good cry today, so please tell me all the stories about the animals.” He takes Lincoln by the shoulder and moves him past me and Maddox.
“I don’t want to cry,” Lincoln says, looking worried as he passes Maddox.
But all Maddox says is, “Make sure you do some stories. Use the link I gave you for the swipe-up.”
Marcy directs them through the doors toward the kennels, leaving me alone and dumbfounded with Maddox.
Smiling, he says, “Hey.”
“Uh . . . hey.”
He stuffs his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels, looking like the boy I grew up, not the man I’ve fallen in love with. “How are you?”
“A little shocked, quite emotional, and incredibly happy.”
“Good emotional?”
The Change Up Page 16
