He turns and walks away, stopping at the end of the hallway and staring back, eyebrows raised.
“Just a minute.”
I close the door, staring around the flat for some kind of inspiration. Ant limps out of the bathroom, rubbing his hair and yawning. “Hey.” He stops short. “Why are you wearing your uniform?”
“Uh…” My brain stops working. There are too many confusing messages flooding it and I can’t work out what direction is best to choose.
“Does your new friend have a weird fetish?”
At the very least, but I don’t want to dwell on that. “Gotta run. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
When I walk back through the doorway, Maddox stands exactly where I left him, frowning through his smile. “You’ve got everything?”
This is a bad idea.
The worst.
Then he walks closer and puts his hand on my lower back, propelling me forward. The scent of his aftershave hits me, making my mouth flood with saliva. Making me dizzy enough to lean in towards him.
“You don’t need to be nervous.”
“I look awful.”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Absolutely the worst. My reputation is going straight down the gurgler. I’ll probably top myself in a few weeks because I can’t bear the shame.”
I try to muster a smile, I really do. It’s just my face can’t remember how to work to produce the result I want. At best, it could be called a grimace.
A grimace complete with tears.
I don’t understand what’s happening. At work, I never care what people think.
He opens the car door for me, waiting until I’m seated before he shuts it and walks around to the driver’s side. I don’t haveanything except my phone with me, haven’t got a clue what else I would bring.
Everything I used to take to school is in my locker where I left it or more probably emptied to make way for another student, everything usable recycled.
“It’s not a big deal. The other students are too caught up in their own drama to give a damn about you.”
“I know.”
“But you’re still crying.” He pulls on his seatbelt, then chuckles to himself. “I’ve got a friend who’d love you.”
Panic reaches into my chest and squeezes my heart in its fist. “Are you going to share me with him?”
“What?” Maddox stares at me, astounded, and I can’t meet his eyes. I don’t know what made me say it. He stretches his arm over me, long fingers tugging my seatbelt from its holder as he says, “Fuck, no,” face close enough that his breath flutters my collar.
The back of his hand brushes against my hip, a click echoing as he slots the mechanism into place. He eases the strap away from my torso where it twists, smoothing it flat while my senses focus on each gentle touch.
“For one,” he continues, “Zane can find his own hookups and two, I was just making small talk. I haven’t done it for a few years so I’m excruciatingly bad at the process, okay?”
As he straightens, hands lightly resting on the wheel, I ask, “Don’t you talk to people?”
“Not unless they’re friends and they already know I’m awkward and prickly and never know what the fuck to say.”
I glance at him with narrowed eyes, but he appears in earnest. “You don’t seem like the quiet type.”
“Not compared to you,” he says with a chuckle. “Next to you, I’m a bloody chat show host.”
This time my smile works. He reaches across to cup my shoulder, then rubs his knuckles across my cheek.
