I understand Rayne’s text now more than I did before.
“Ronan, I’ll have my people call your people,” Maddie calls across the room, and he throws her a thumbs-up and grins.
“You got it, superstar,” he drawls, before wincing and glaring at the side of Rayne’s head. If I were to hedge a bet, I’d say Rayne did that on purpose, and it’s only the twitch of his lips that gives him away.
Shaking my head, I watch as Maddie says bye to the other guys in the room, catching Laylah around the waist on her next lap around the room. As she hauls the girl into her arms, grinning at the tinkling laughter that fills the room, Maddie says, “Well, it was cool meeting you guys. Hit me up if you manage to convince Rayne Cloud to do that photo shoot you’re desperate for.”
She receives a round of agreements and enthusiastic goodbyes, Billy and Gene heading over to fist-bump her and ruffle her already rumpled hair. As soon as they’re done, Iwatch intently as Maddie leans toward Laylah, who she now has propped on her hip like a pro.
I’m standing close enough to overhear Maddie whisper, “Next time, I’ll bring cupcakes. Sound good?”
Laylah nods before dropping her forehead against Maddie’s, those adorable dimples showing in her cheeks, her dainty hands cupping Maddie’s face and squeezing until her lips pucker.
“All right. Keep being crazy, kiddo,” she spits through pinched lips, and I wipe my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing, enamored by the way she squeezes Laylah in a hug before dropping her to the floor.
The moment the kid’s feet hit the ground, she’s running again, and I shake my head as I turn to Rayne. “See you at home.”
“Later,” he nods, wiggling his tattoo gun in my direction before smiling over at Maddie. I mean, an actual smile. Not the half-assed, barely there things he plays off, but a genuine, honest-to-God smile. It makes me double take, more so when Maddie blushes, and I watch as she waves bashfully before walking toward me.
Gesturing for her to go before me, I turn and loudly whisper to Rayne, “What was that?”
“Ask her,” is all I receive before my presence is discarded.
With no other option, I follow after Maddie, watching her do her best to finger-comb the tangles out of her hair. She doesn’t seem mad by it at all, mindlessly combing out every knot she happens upon.
When she reaches her car, she pauses and smiles, eyeing her Jeep and my car together, before she climbs into the driver’s side. She rolls her window down and smiles over at me, and her voice comes out soft when she says, “I missed bringing you to work with me.”
I smile back at her, feeling a little pang of sadness for the week we spent without her, the feeling doubling when I wonder if I was the cause of her cutting us off. “I missed it, too.”
Mads nods, takes a deep breath, and then a slow grin appears right before she says, “Race you home? Loser has to tickle the winner’s back.”
Before I can even agree to those terms, or even get in the fucking car to begin with, the epitome of trouble peels out of the parking lot and leaves me in the dust with a cackle in her wake.
Mouth falling open in shock at the cheating little she-devil, I shake my head and climb into my car, quickly making peace with the loss already. Not that it actually seems like a loss, because this now indicates Maddie will be spending more time with us again if she expects me to pay up.
It’s with that comforting thought that I climb into the car and drive home, almost taking the scenic route just to ensure she really wins. The need to spend time with her after a week of going without wins, and so I beeline straight home, parking my car a space apart from Maddie’s Jeep.
Scoffing, I walk to the elevator, waving over at Tanner, the day-shift receptionist Maddie hired. The guy smiles in greeting, remaining quiet as he often does unless Maddie speaks to him, and I dismiss him as I hurry to the elevator.
The wait doesn’t last very long after I press the button, and I startle when I find Maddie already standing in there, arms crossed over her chest, and a knowing little grin on her face.
Just as I step onto the elevator, she casually mentions, “You let me win.”
“You cheated,” I counter just as nonchalantly, amusement bubbling in my chest.
“That wouldn’t have mattered. I watched you stroll to your car slower than I ever have in the months I’ve known you,” she argues, sending me an unimpressed look and a pointedeyebrow that almost makes me laugh. “So, you let me win. You owe me a back tickling.”
I nod slowly, tucking my hands into my jeans pockets, and I peer up at the elevator ceiling before muttering, “Are you collecting your winnings today?”
She sighs. “Obviously. You promised you’d make me something to eat, and what better way to finish a good meal than with a victory back tickling?”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I agree wholeheartedly with her. “Valid. I can respect that.”
We fall into silence for a long moment, the elevator taking us to her apartment, and my shoulders relax when it finally sinks in that she’s done locking us out. Rolling my head across the mirrored wall to look at her, I find her already watching me with a soft smile and something pretty in her eyes I want to bottle and save for a rainy day.
Instead, I simply ask, “Any requests for the chef?”
She shakes her head in answer, that pink hue filling her cheeks once more. And then she pauses and winces, shutting one eye as she peers at me with the other. “Actually, I don’t have anything to cook.”
