“Do you want coffee first?” Jade asked. “Or maybe?—”
“I need to shower at home and get ready for my shift.” Maddox’s eyes dropped to somewhere around Jade’s collarbone. “I…I didn’t exactly plan this. No clothes or anything.”
Jade felt her lips tug and suppressed the smile from fully forming. Maddox’s awkwardness as she fumbled through the moment was endearing in its own way. She let out a soft, contented sigh. “Of course.”
Maddox lay there another moment, not moving. Jade could feel Maddox’s reluctance in the tension of her arm and the way she wasn’t quite meeting Jade’s eyes, like maybe if they stayed in this bed they could postpone whatever came next.
But Zeus was waiting. And they both had work. And lying here wouldn’t make the complications disappear.
“Come on,” Jade said gently. She pushed herself up, immediately missing the warmth of Maddox’s body against hers. The morning air was cool on her bare skin.
Maddox sat up more slowly, the sheet pooling at her waist. Her hair was a disaster and stuck up in random directions, and Jade had to physically stop herself from reaching out to smooth it down.
They dressed in silence, Jade pulling on a tank top and slacks from her dresser and Maddox gathering her clothes from where they’d been abandoned on the floor. It felt too intimate yet not intimate enough.
When they were both dressed, they stood facing each other near the bedroom door. Maddox’s hands hung at her sides, fingers flexing like she wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if she should or was allowed to.
“So…” Maddox said.
“So,” Jade echoed.
There was another beat of awkward silence while they stared at each other. Despite herself, Jade’s eyes flicked downward to Maddox’s lips then back up at her eyes. Then Maddox stepped forward and kissed her, brief and soft, nothing like the desperate kisses from last night. When she pulled back, her eyes were clearer. “I should say something,” she said. “About last night.”
“You don’t have to.”
“No, I want to.” Maddox’s lips twitched to the side. “It was… I don’t regret any of it.”
“You already said that.”
“I know. I just…” Maddox stopped, clearly struggling to form her words. “I want to make sure you know that this wasn’t just…”
“Maddox.” Jade reached out, her fingers curling loosely around Maddox’s wrist. “I know.”
Some of the tension visible left Maddox’s shoulders, and they lowered a fraction of an inch. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Good.”
Jade walked her to the door, both of them moving slowly like they were trying to prolong the inevitable. At the threshold, Maddox turned back.
“When can I see you again?” The question came out tentative, but her eye contact was firm.
Jade’s chest tightened. “When do you want to?”
“Soon,” Maddox said immediately, but then retracted. “If that’s… I mean, if you want?—”
“I want to,” Jade said.
Relief flashed across Maddox’s face. “Okay, good. I’ll text you.”
“I look forward to it.”
Maddox hesitated one more second, then stepped into the hallway. Jade watched her walk toward the stairs and saw her glance back once before disappearing around the corner. And then she was alone in her apartment with the door closed and the early morning light spilling across her floor.
Jade leaned against the closed door, letting out a long exhale.
Her sheets smelled like Maddox, there were two coffee mugs in her sink from last night, and the imprint of another body was still visible on her pillow.
All evidence of a line crossed and a boundary obliterated.
She should call Carla and process this immediately to figure out the ethical implications and make a plan for how to manage Maddox’s therapy moving forward.
