The Change Up

by Quinn, Meghan

  “Very good emotional.” I take a step forward and wrap my arms around him. “I can’t believe you came to visit me.”

  “Not just visit you, babe.” He lifts my chin up. “We came to promote the shelter. Combined, we have over ten million followers on Instagram and we thought it would help if we walked through, talked about the shelter, and add a link to show where people can adopt and help.”

  Tears well in my eyes. “Seriously?”

  “Of course.” He wipes a stray tear. “Even though I might put up a stink about a lot of things, I still believe in what you believe in. This shelter means something to you, but also to me. Animals like Herman deserve to find forever homes.”

  My eyes light up. “Are you saying Herman found a forever home?”

  “No,” he says quickly and laughs. “Don’t even try.”

  “He loves you so much.”

  Maddox shakes his head in humor. “Why don’t you show me around?”

  Not pushing my luck, I say, “Right this way.” But he stops me, and takes my hand in his, linking our fingers together. Then he nods for us to continue. My heart can’t take this, any of this. The intimate hold, the way he’s looking at me, the fact that he’s here, with two of his friends to help the shelter. If I wasn’t already in love with him, I would be now.

  Marcy took the guys down cat row, so I veer in the other direction, showing him all the dog kennels. I introduce him to a few dogs, while he creates stories on his Instagram about every dog he meets. He speaks with such conviction, that if I followed him as a fan, I’d find a way to support the cause.

  Down the hall, I can hear Jason and Lincoln laughing with Marcy and if I were to guess, I’d say this is probably one of her best days to date—showing around hunky baseball players who have no qualms about sharing the shelter all over their social media.

  “This is my office,” I say, pointing to the small room that has furniture from the eighties barely held together. “There isn’t much, but I plan to decorate at some point.”

  Maddox peeks his head inside and nods. “Have any pictures of me in here?”

  “No.” I chuckle. “Do you want me to have a poster of you?”

  “Would add a lot to the space.” He winks and we keep moving on. I take him down cat row and show him how crowded this section is. Our dogs seem to be adopted a lot faster than our cats, which always makes me sad. Cats need love too.

  “Is this the main man?” Maddox asks, coming up to Chip’s window.

  “Yes. This is Chip. The longest resident.”

  “Reminds me of Grumpy Cat, with a sour look on his face and scary eyes.”

  “He’s a sweetheart though. I spend a few minutes a day with him and he comes right up to me, basks in some scratches behind the ears. He also likes to lick my finger.”

  “Lick your finger? Really?”

  “It’s an odd sensation that I seem to be addicted to.”

  Maddox just laughs. “You’re really fucking weird, but it’s why I love you.”

  “One of the many reasons.” I smile up at him as his hands fall to my hips and then slide up my sides.

  “One of many,” he sighs, right before reaching into his back pocket and handing me an envelope.

  “What’s this?” I hold it up.

  He nods at the envelope. “Open it.”

  Confused, I tear it open and immediately my throat tightens as I notice the check inside. And then a gasp escapes me when I see the amount of money with the shelter’s name attached to it. “Maddox, what—”

  “Spoke to some of the guys, and they all wanted to chip in to help the cause.”

  “This isn’t just chipping in, this is half a million dollars.”

  He shrugs. “I might have chipped in a little more. I want to help you make a difference and even though I can’t dedicate my time, I can promote the shelter and help with fixing up the place where it needs help.”

  “I can’t take this. It’s too much.”

  He wipes a tear away. “It’s not for you, Kin, it’s for the animals.”

  “But . . . why?” I ask, staring down at the check. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” he says, moving in closer so our bodies are rubbing against each other. “I love you, Kinny, and I would do anything to help you.” His hand cups my cheek. “I want you to be happy, and I know finding homes for these animals would bring you the most joy.”

  I nod, unable to speak.

  His other hand cups my cheek as well and he tilts my head back. To steady myself, I rest my hands against his chest and marvel in how strong and sturdy it is. I feel like my entire body is about to wilt.

  Tears stream down my cheeks and he keeps wiping them away, his eyes intent on mine. I watch as his tongue peeks out and wets his lips.

  His gaze falls to my mouth.

  I lick my lips.

  I can’t stop shaking.

  What is happening? “You’re so goddamn beautiful, do you know that?” he says, stealing every ounce of air from my lungs. “Even when you cry, you’re gorgeous. It makes it difficult to keep my hands off you, to keep my body away from yours. To hold back any longer.”

  I’m suffocated by his words, by his proximity, by the way he’s holding me so close. It feels like nothing else around us exists. My chest rises and falls in deep inhales and exhales, my pulse vibrates crazily, the beat of my heart holding an erratic rhythm that doesn’t make any sense other than it’s trying to tell me something.

  He is it.

  He’s the one.

  There will never be a man greater than the one holding you right now.

  Finally finding my voice, I say, “Hold back from what?”

  His thumb runs over my lip and he lowers his forehead to mine. His hands shake against my cheek, and it hits me like a ton of bricks, something I never expected from Maddox. He’s . . . nervous.

  His hesitancy, the unsteadiness of his voice, the shake in his grip. He’s nervous, which means . . . does he want to make a move but doesn’t know how to?

  Hell, I want to say all the signs are pointing in that direction. The touching, the way he’s been treating me, the cuddling. Does he want more?

  “Maddox?”

  “Yeah?” he breathes out.

  “Do you want to”—I swallow hard—“kiss me?”

  He steadily pulls away and looks me in the eyes. For a moment, I fear I read him wrong, but then his eyes flash down to my lips. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

  I almost don’t hear him over the noisy cadence of my thumping heart, but when my brain finally clears through the fog and makes sense of his answer, I find the nerve to say, “Then kiss me.”

  He tilts my mouth up with his hands and lowers down, pauses, and takes a deep breath, as if he’s soaking in this moment right before his lips fall on mine. It’s a light press at first—as if getting used to the idea that we’re kissing—but then he becomes firmer with his grip, his lips part, and the kiss turns into the kind of kiss that melts every bone in your body.

  One of his hands slides to the back of my neck and then tangles in my hair, holding me in place as he turns his head ever so slightly for a deeper, different angle. It shoots stars through my eyes and all my limbs, making me feel like I’m floating and if I don’t hold on to tight enough, I could take off right into the abyss.

  His lips work mine, his tongue barely peeking out, just for a tiny slide here and there. It’s what causes me to moan, causes me to lose all my senses as we kiss in the middle of my workplace. The intensity of his grip and the smell of his cologne mixes with a fierce lust that’s driving through my veins, attaching me to the man I’ve always thought of as a rock in my life, never a love interest. But now that he’s here, holding me in his arms, his lips pressed against mine, I know for damn certain, no one will ever match up to Maddox Paige.

  Ever.

  Finally, he pulls away and then rests his forehead on mine. Both of his hands fall to my neck as he breath
es heavily.

  “Fuck,” he mutters. “I hope that was okay, because I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

  “You have?” I ask, just as we hear feet coming our way. As if it’s my mother who’s going to catch us, I spring off Maddox and wipe at my mouth. He stares at me, a smile passing over his lips.

  “There you are,” Marcy says, turning the corner. “You will never believe this, but we have gained over two thousand followers on Instagram since these wonderful gentlemen showed up.”

  “Seriously?” I ask, still amazed that this is happening.

  “Yes, and they keep coming. I don’t think I could thank you guys enough for being here.”

  Lincoln looks toward the lobby and says, “I would love to stay and learn more, but we’re on borrowed time right now before fans swarm the shelter looking for us, and that’s not what I want this to be about. We should bounce, man.”

  Maddox nods. “And these boys have to get to the field to warm up.”

  “Sure, yeah.” I hold up the envelope. “Thank you, this . . .” I start to get teary-eyed again and Maddox gives me a quick hug before whispering in my ear.

  “I’ll call you later, Kinny.”

  I nod against his chest and then wave to Jason and Lincoln, watching as they barely fit down the hall together and retreat out the front door.

  Marcy turns toward me, hand on her heart as she says, “I think I had a heart attack back there when Lincoln gave me a hug. Sweet Lord, that man is attractive.”

  I nod and stare out toward the lobby while I hand Marcy the envelope.

  She opens it and the gasp that falls past her lips when she sees the number on the check will forever be imprinted in my brain. It’s a life-changing gasp, just like that was a life-changing kiss.

  * * *

  Do you know what sucks about baseball? The schedule.

  I can see how players’ significant others get frustrated very quickly, because the players spend long hours at the field, come home late, and then leave just when things start to get good . . .

  I’m sitting in the couch, cross-legged, Herman’s head resting on my leg, and I’m watching Our Planet on Netflix, still trying to recover from watching the walruses falling off the edge of a rocky cliff, because there wasn’t enough room for all of them thanks to climate change. I sobbed watching them bounce down the cliffs to their death. Poor Herman thought I was having a mental breakdown, but I’ve manage to gain control of myself and even my emotions, despite the war raging inside of me . . . and not from the dying walruses, but from the man who decided to kiss me unlike any man has ever before and then take off for the West Coast.

  It’s past ten my time and I’m dying for my phone to ring, to see his face, to ask him what the hell that was about at the shelter, if he planned on doing it again, or if it was just a one-time thing.

  I really hope it wasn’t a one-time thing because his lips are perfection.

  Soft, not too wet and slippery, but just enough so that I could easily slide across them. He was firm with his pressure, intense with his hold, and I was stunned by how his body vibrated with need. For me. Truly, unlike any kiss I’ve ever experienced. I’m wondering if it was because the kiss was with Maddox, or if it was because of the friendship we’ve had for so long.

  Probably a combination of both.

  “Why isn’t he calling?” I ask Herman. “He should be there by now, right?” A horrible thought creeps into my head. Maybe he’s there and doesn’t want to call me, because he doesn’t want to disappoint me. Oh God, what if he thought I was a bad kisser and he’s trying to figure out a way to let me down easily? I mean, I know he did most of the work, but that’s because I was so caught off guard, in shock from what happened. “I can kiss better than that, I know I can,” I mutter defiantly. I lift up Herman’s large floppy ear and talk into it. “Do you think that’s what happened?” He pulls his head away and then rests against my leg again. “A lot of help you are. Don’t you have a secret man bond with him? He calls you old man. Do you share secrets? Can you tell me any of them? I’m the one who brought you here. He might be the final say if you stay—which I hope you do—but I’m still the one who made the initial step and brought you here. Sooo . . . anything you want to divulge? I’ll give you a—”

  My phone rings and I nearly leap off the couch to answer it. Maddox’s face appears on the screen and I gleefully shriek right before I answer the FaceTime call. Please don’t let this be a bad call, please don’t let this be a bad call.

  I accept the call and before I even say hello, I say, “I’m a better kisser than that. Way better, like worlds better. I was just nervous and jittery, and oh my God, you kissed me.” I press my hand to my forehead and try to hold back my smile, but I can’t. “You kissed me, Maddox.”

  He chuckles, the deep sound so rich on my ears that it makes me want to melt into the couch and become one with the cushion. “I know.”

  “You kissed me and left.”

  “I know.”

  I look down at my lap and ask, “If you were here right now, would you want to kiss me again?”

  “I would want to do a hell of a lot more than just kiss you, Kinsley.”

  My head snaps up, and I can’t help but read into the dark sultry look of his eyes. From the angle of him, I can see that he’s shirtless, his hair is disheveled, and he’s drawing something in his sketchbook.

  My teeth pull on my bottom lip as my mouth turns up in a smile.

  “Yeah?”

  “Fuck yeah.”

  “So my kiss was—”

  “Was a mistake on my end.” My heart sinks faster than a thirty-thousand-pound anchor. “Because I can’t kiss you again until I get back in a week.” With the hand that’s not holding the phone, but instead holding a pen, he pushes it through his thick hair and he sighs. “Fuck, I hate that I got a small taste of you and now have to be tortured from afar, knowing what it’s like to have your lips on mine but not have them for a whole week.”

  “Oh,” I say, feeling stupid for having a flash of vulnerability. “So you liked the kiss?”

  “A lot.”

  “And you would do it again?”

  “Yes,” he answers, his breathing picking up.

  “And you would do more than just kiss me? You would do more things . . . like move your hands all over my body.”

  “Yes,” he says, his voice growing darker.

  I nod. “Would you let me touch you?”

  “Wherever the fuck you wanted.”

  I shift, my body heating up from the thought of being able to explore his glorious body. Tracing my fingers over each muscle, each divot and perfectly sculpted part of his body, of every inked inch of his skin. My mind then falls to the idea of peeling his briefs down, exposing his cock, running my finger over the head, and then curving down the underside to his balls . . .

  “Hell, Kinny, what are you thinking about?”

  My eyes flash to him as my face heats up. “It’s too embarrassing.”

  “Tell me.”

  I shake my head. “No way, I still don’t know what any of this is. What this means. Is this a fling to you? An itch you needed to scratch?”

  His brows narrow. “Are you serious? Do you really think I’d risk our friendship, the single most important thing in my life, for a fling?”

  “Well . . . no, but, our friendship is kind of at risk.”

  “Which is why I’ve battled with what to do for a while. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to even tempt fate, but I couldn’t keep my hands to myself. Every time you walk in a room, Kinsley, I need to touch you somehow. I realized pretty quickly that the feeling wasn’t simply friendship, it was more. I want more with you. I feel it deep in my soul that we’re supposed to be more than just friends, that you’re in my life for a bigger reason. I’ve been fighting with that reason, hoping it wasn’t the need pulsing through me every time I thought of you, but no matter how hard I tried to ignore the obvious, I couldn’t. These feelings aren’t going
away, and I don’t want them to. I want you to be with me.”

  “I . . . I . . .” Hell, I’ve never had a romantic interest talk to me like this before. So open, so honest. But I shouldn’t expect anything less from Maddox. It’s how he was created. “I don’t know what to say.” I look away and try to gather my words. “I’m scared, Maddox.”

  “Scared in a good way or bad way? Because I’m scared too, babe. I’m terrified of the way I feel for you. It’s so strong. It feels like I can actually taste my need for you.”

  Gaining the courage I need, I look at him again and say, “I feel the same way. Like if I don’t see you in the morning, walking around in your boxer briefs, I might pass out from anticipation. If I don’t hold your hand at least once in a day, my day isn’t complete. If I don’t hear you tell me good night, I can’t get any sleep. With each day, I’ve become more and more dependent on our connection, of having you near me. And that’s what’s terrifying, because what if you realize you don’t want me to be around me anymore?”

  “That’s never going to happen,” he says with conviction. “Look at me.” My eyes snap up to him as he slowly repeats, “That’s never going to happen.”

  I nod but don’t answer right away. He says it’s never going to happen, but after one night of holding my hand, another of holding me close to his whole body, something changed and he didn’t touch me at all. I wouldn’t recover if he shut me out after we were in a relationship. But I can’t say that to him. I don’t know how. I study the sleekness of my phone, the eco-friendly, biodegradable phone case I purchased from an Instagram ad, never focusing on the face in the screen. This all seems too much, unreal, like a dream. Maddox wants more with me, an actual relationship. I never considered a romantic relationship with my best friend as an option, but slowly the thought of one has crept up on me.

  The fantasies I had about him are shameful.

  The staring I partook in, embarrassing.

  The love I fell in, unstoppable.

  And now that he’s telling me he feels the same way, it all feels like too much, like my life is about to explode and I’m going to lose everything.

  “Kinsley, look at me.”