He frowns, and somehow it makes him look even more handsome. “You think kind, intelligent, stunningly beautiful women with cerulean-blue eyes aren’t my type?”
My skin flushes now for an entirely different reason. He’s trying to make me feel better. Maybe he feels safe beingflirtatious, now he’s told me he’s celibate. God, I am spiraling here.
I take a deep breath. “You don’t have to say that Maddox. You are allowed to not want to sleep with me. My ego has survived.” That’s not entirely true, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Ellie.” His voice sounds pained. “When I came back to Marrakech, I intended to spend a week there before heading home. I wasn’t even open to dating anyone. It was a kind of goodbye to that whole era of my life. I wanted to spend some time there without any of the other stuff. I wanted to experience it with a clear heart and a clear head. Meeting a woman was the absolute last thing on my mind. Then you came up to me in that coffee shop, and we got talking. You asked me to dinner…”
He licks his bottom lip. Despite what the girls had said about him, I was still surprised when he said yes.
“I figured I looked so pathetic that you felt sorry for me.”
“Stop it.” His voice is deep and commanding, unlike how I’ve ever heard him speak before. It makes my insides turn to jelly, but it also makes me sit up and listen. “I never want to hear you speak about yourself like that, Ellie. Ever. I agreed to a date because I thought you were fucking spectacular. And I had one of the most memorable nights of my whole life just sitting there talking to you. It was amazing.”
I stare at him, all shades of confused.
“And yes, I even considered reneging on my recent vow of celibacy and taking you to bed, because you are sexy and beautiful and you have the kind of curves that could bring a man to his knees. I did not feel sorry for you. You were not pathetic. And you were very much my type. But I didn’t want to taint our time together with something that had become so meaningless to me. It took all my strength to say no to you when you invited me back to your room. Eleanor Madison, I slept with hundredsof women while I was traveling, but yours is the only name I remember.”
I suck in a ragged breath. His speech has hit me right in my feels, not to mention my tingly lady parts. He means it all, I can tell. He did want me, really want me. It was just bad timing.
Why is he still celibate? Because right now he could melt my panties with his words alone. The things he’s saying. The passion in his voice. The way his eyes are hooked onto mine, not letting go.
With the worst timing in the history of the entire world, Drake appears behind him. He nods at me, taking in our body language. “Sorry to interrupt, brother. The event starts in ten.”
Maddox’s gaze never leaves me when he replies. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll be right there.”
Drake claps him on the back. “Amber wants us all for the photoshoot.”
Maddox is still staring at me, like he wants to say something. Or he wants me to say something. But my brain seems to have short-circuited. It’s gone wrong, and it’s stopped being connected to my mouth. I can’t speak. I can only gape.
“I’m needed, Ellie. I’m glad we managed to talk. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
He’s already walking away when I finally manage to utter a single word, “Night.”
Chapter 11
Maddox
Iturn up at the Jamestech offices two days later, literally cap in hand.
The fact that it’s a Yankees cap, signed by the team, makes me jittery.
Fuck, no, it’s not the goddamn cap that’s making me jittery, it’s the fact that I got it forher. It was up for auction at Amber’s charity event, and even from the next table over, I could see how animated she got at the sight of it. She seemed to have an okay time the rest of the night, sitting with her work colleagues, smiling and laughing at their comfortable banter. But she really came to life when lot 69—thank you universe, for laughing at my expense—came up.
I loved seeing her enjoying herself, but I’d also be lying if I said I wasn’t even more satisfied every time I glanced across the room and caught her looking at me. She’d blush, look away, and pretend nothing had happened. It was sweet. Like we were in high school and I just passed her a note. Do you actually like me, Y or N?
Except things would be a lot simpler if that was the case. I know now that I hurt this woman, and I better understand why she’s been so distant.
Ironically, I hurt her by trying to do the right thing. If there’s a moral in that story somewhere, I’m not digging for it. I didn’t sleep with her back in Morocco because I’d had my fill of meaningless sex. It didn’t fill the void inside me; it didn’t take away the pain. I’d realized by then that maybe nothing ever would, completely, but that it was time to put in the work and at least try.
Maybe I could have handled it better, told her why I couldn’t come up to her room with her. If I’d done that, she wouldn’t have spent the last two years feeling like I rejected her. The opposite is true. I’d wanted her desperately. As she leaned on the doorway of the hostel that night, her skin flushed from the balmy evening, curls wild, a bead of sweat running between her breasts, I’d wanted her more than I’d ever wanted any woman. It was one of the first battles I won with my demons. Saying no. Walking away. I remember that night fondly for so many reasons, and it hurts me to think that her memory of it is tainted.
I didn’t mean to hurt her, but I did.
I’m much better at communicating now. At least that’s what I tell myself as I ride up in the elevator. So, if that’s the case, then what the fuck am I going to say to her today? “Hi, sorry I was an asshole, I did want to screw you I promise. Here’s a Yankees cap to make up for two years of feeling sore.” Yeah. Real smooth, Maddox.
I nod to Deborah as I pass Mason’s office. She raises her eyebrows at me in confusion and I shake my head, letting her know this isn’t a mistake. I can feel her eyes on me as I go further down the corridor to Ellie’s office. I can hear laughter coming from inside. Girl laughter. The kind that makes me grin, but also makes me want to hide in a closet. Somehow, underneath it all, I still feel like an awkward kid when I like someone, not that it’s happened for a long time. After Yasmin, and what happened after…I promised myself I’d never be in a position to be hurt likethat again. I told myself it was the only sure way to keep that monster inside me locked away forever. But he’s always there anyway, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for an opportunity to be unleashed.
Maybe he’ll never be gone. Always a part of me. I need to stop living in fear that I can’t control him, because I’ve done a pretty good job of it for the past fourteen years.
