Oh boy, that might have been a mistake. How can even looking at this man have this kind of effect on me? There’s a pulsing throb between my legs that wasn’t there thirty seconds ago.
“Are you alright?” I manage to croak out. “You don’t seem quite yourself today.”
He pulls away from me, shoves his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Maybe I’m a little stressed.”
“About the application?”
He pauses before replying. “Yeah. About that.”
Thought so. He might be all Zen master on the surface, but he’s only human. “Well don’t be. Between us, we’ll get it done. You know we’re a great team.”
He hails a cab, which also isn’t like him. Maddox normally walks, runs, or cycles pretty much everywhere he needs to be. Part environmental awareness, part just him.
“It’s too hot to walk,” he explains, opening the door for me to climb in. “And again, I’m sorry. I know we make a good team, Ellie. You’ve been such a help with all this, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“That’s okay. You don’t need to thank me. I’m your friend. Did you manage to get to a meeting this week?”
He nods and tells me about the one he chose. He has spots across the city that he goes to, and we’ve always discussed that part of his life openly. After the whole miscommunication-in-Marrakech deal, we’ve tried to be as open with each other about everything. Well, he has. I guess I haven’t been entirely honest with him.
I haven’t told him about this whole pesky throbbing-between-the-thighs thing for a start.
We make it back to his place, which is small by James-family standards, but still bigger than mine. Not to mention blessedly cool. He’s made it real nice, with lots of plants and greenery, a little balcony with fresh herbs for his cooking. Tons of books and records. There are even framed photos on the walls, including one of his late mom and a gorgeous shot of him with his niece and nephews that I haven’t seen before. “You and the chubmuffins, huh?” I ask, using his own cute word for them. “You look right at home there.”
He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, the two little babies curled up on his lap. Luke, Nathan and Mel’s toddler, is sitting proudly on his shoulders, his hands gripping Maddox’s hair like a set of handlebars. The expression on Maddox’s face tells me he was in pain, but also couldn’t be happier. He’ll be a great dad one day.
I sigh out loud. How will I feel if that happens? If Maddox meets the right girl for him, and plays happy families, just like all his brothers? He might be celibate now, but that probably won’t last forever. Will we still be friends then? Could I handle that?
My heart sinks at the thought of losing this. He’s become such a big part of my life. My ride-or-die. I feel tears swimming in my eyes as my stupid imagination takes the reins and steers me into crazytown. I swipe them away, angry with myself. What the hell?
“Ellie. Why are you crying?” he asks. “Is it about the AC? Is it work? Have I done something to upset you?”
I give him a playful nudge on his shoulder. The very big, very firm shoulder. “Get over yourself, Maddox James. Can’t a girl have a little cry without it being over a man? I think I’m just hot, and bothered, and maybe missing my family. I haven’t been home since Christmas.”
This isn’t the real reason I’m upset, but it is part of it. I’ve been so busy with work—and I don’t ever object to that, because I love my job. But I’ve also been busy with Maddox. And I…I guess I kind of love him, too. In a purely platonic way, of course.
I’m not kidding anybody with that, especially not myself, but the reality is too scary to face right now. I’ve fallen hook, line, and sinker for him. He’s here, right by my side, looking like he looks. Smelling like he smells. Being like he is.
Jesus, no wonder I’m crying. It’s like having everything I’ve ever wanted in front of me and not being allowed to touch it. I need to pack this away, stat. Shove it inside a little mental box,wrap that box in crime scene tape, and bury it at the bottom of the ocean. I need to only love Maddox the way he loves me—as afriend.
He frowns. I’m hoping he can’t mind read, but I’d put nothing past him. I store my sad thoughts away, hide them in that box, labeled ‘toxic waste—emotional hazmat suit required.’
“I’m not trying to overstep again, I promise, Ellie, but we do have a jet.” He looks shamefaced. “I’ve never used it,” he continues. “But if you ever wanted to make a quick turnaround on a visit back to Chicago, well, the option is there.”
“Aw,” I reply, clasping my hands to my heart. “You’d lend me your private jet?”
He nods, but also winces. He knows he’s let himself in for a world of mockery with that statement. I’m about to ask him how he’s planning to offset a carbon footprint the size of Sasquatch when my phone pings. Maddox looks mildly surprised and checks his own. He’s still getting used to it, so he pulls it from his pocket and stares at it. I let him stew for a second before putting him out of his misery. “It’s mine, silly.”
He narrows his eyes at me, looking slightly annoyed. I wouldn’t like to be on the receiving end of Maddox’s actual annoyance.Or would I?I imagine him pulling me over his lap and telling me I deserve a spanking, and now I feel hotter than I did at my apartment.Damn you, lady parts, stop being so slutty. Or I’ll lock you away with the toxic waste.
I open the message and my heart sinks.
“What is it?” he asks.
“Oh, it’s from Mr. Oliver. There’s no chance of the air conditioning being fixed, and apparently there’s a city-wide shortage of fans. Go figure. Looks like I’m in for a restless night. Serves me right for even thinking about using your private jet.”
I’m joking, but he’s frowning again. “You can stay here,” he says simply. “I’ll take the couch.”
Maddox and I have spent a lot of time together in the last few months, but we have never had a sleepover. There’s never been any need. And, I remind myself, there still isn’t. It would be too challenging, in all kinds of ways. “Thanks for the sweet offer, but I’ll be fine. How hot can it get?”
