He doesn’t look like a man here to unwind after a hard day’s work.
He looks lost and a little desperate.
Depleted.
He looks like he needs a hug, and stupid me really wants to be the one who gives it to him.
I really don’t understand what’s become of my life.
For years we barely spoke.We’d stand in the same space and pretend the other didn’t exist.Now he’s everywhere.Intervening when my ex-husband gives me trouble.Rescuing me from car trouble.Doling out orgasms like it’s his job.Asking for a chance to correct his wrongs.Making me feel seen and safe.It’s all messing with my head, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to fall fast and hard for the man who broke my heart.
He weaves through the crowd and drops onto the only empty stool at the bar.Pulling myself together, I make my way over to him.
“If you’re here to give me a ride, I should tell you I got my car back today.”
His eyes lift to mine, and he scrubs a hand over his face.“Good.I’m glad.”
“But you’re not here to take me home.”
“Not tonight.I mean, I would if you needed me, but…” His voice trails and he glances behind me, focusing on the bottles that line the shelf.“Uh…do you think I can get a drink?”
Yeah, there’s definitely something off with him tonight.
“Your usual?”
He laughs, but there isn’t much humor to it.“Didn’t know I had a usual.I guess I’m becoming one of your regulars.”
“Yeah, it’s weird.”I set a clean glass on top of the bar and turn to grab the bottle of whiskey he favors.Filling his glass, my eyes flick to his.“Seeing you every day, it’s weird.”
Hearing you tell me how you wish my son was yours is even weirder.But I won’t get into that.
“You’ll get used to it.”
I slide the glass toward him.“You sound confident.”
“It’s the only thing I’m sure of,” he says, knocking back half the drink in one swallow.The burn must hit because his eyes shut for a second as he sets the glass down.“Consistency is key.”
I hum thoughtfully.So he says.
“I need a favor.”
Unsure if I heard him correctly, I blink.“From me?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus Christ.Not you too.”
What the hell is it about me that makes men think I am their go-to for favors?Sure, Maddox is nothing like Russell.He’s not the type who would take advantage of any women, let alone me.I think he’d willingly cut off a limb before he ever asked me for a dime.I guess if he’s asking for a favor, it’s gotta be personal.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I wave my hand dismissively.I’m not about to tell him Russell came in here looking for money.I have already been embarrassed enough.
“Nothing.What’s your favor?”
“It’s Della,” he adds, snapping me out of my stupor.“She got bit by a rattlesnake earlier today.”
My breath catches because fuck, that’s serious.
