Nope. Perishing. This is my demise.
Heart beating so fast that it resembles the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings, my pulse skittering rapidly enough that I feel jittery and almost faint, I swallow hard and blink at Ryan as I try to gather my brain that has actually short-circuited.
Without putting much thought into it, overwhelmed and sinking deep into the well of my feels, I hop off my stool and round the island, beelining straight for him. My body damn near collides with his when I collapse against him, wrapping my arms around his waist and tucking my head beneath his chin. My hands fist his T-shirt against his back, and I absolutely melt into him when he chuckles, his chest vibrating against my cheek.
Ryan doesn’t waste time, wrapping me in his embrace like I was made to fit there, banding one arm around my back while his other hand cups the back of my head. His fingers sink into my hair and scratch gently, and it almost brings those pesky tears back to my eyes.
With a hearty sigh, I close my eyes and absorb everything about this hug. The warmth, the comfort, the rightness of it. Everything about it feels like it was meant to be, and I realize the same feeling came to me as I was using Rayne as my own personal body pillow.
So, with a tight squeeze that he reciprocates, I admit, “I’m a stage-five clinger, just so you’re aware. Like, Velcro kind of clingy. No, like that slime stuff that gets stuck in your hair and you have to cut it out. So, if that starts getting too much, you guys will tell me, right?”
Ryan freezes, and I wonder if being a grade-A octopus is too much when he releases a long, deep sigh, dropping his cheek to my head before he asks, “Are you trying to scare us away, or are you telling me you’re on board?”
I snort. “I’m saying that you should take it into consideration while I ponder that I have a tendency to want to crawl into people’s skin just to be closer to them. For example, I sat in Zelda’s gaming chair, hugging her back through an entire gaming session once, just because I’d been on vacation for two weeks and missed her. The very next day, I broke into Ashton’s house and crawled into bed with her, and we slept and cuddled most of the day away. The next morning, I hijacked Henley’s ride to work and shadowed her all day. And that’s just with my best friends. I’m too scared to tell you the lengths I’ve gone to with my parents.”
Ryan has started shaking, and I’m pretty sure he’s trying to stop himself from laughing, but I’m being totally serious. I’m the person who means it when she says she’s a clinger, and it would terrify normal people to learn every other creative way I’ve found to be near the ones I love.
“Consider this your warning while I think it over,” I warn. “Because as soon as I agree to this thing, you guys are mine. And I get crazy possessive of things that are mine. You don’t even know the word clingy yet.”
Losing the battle, Ry breaks out in laughter, but he hugs me even tighter, right before he says, “Trust me, trouble. That’s not a bad thing, because it suits us more than you even know. Now, how about that pasta and garlic bread?”
I couldn’t think of anything better to eat right now, and neither can my stomach, the growl that gurgles from its depths something a horror movie could use for sound effects.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Baxter
A week passes after Maddie’s trip to Rayne’s studio, and thankfully, those days are spent together. We go back to normal, eating dinner together, hanging out, and just existing in the same space as one another. Ryan is back to going to work with her, Caid has doubled his efforts to figure out the perfect vacation to surprise her with, and Rayne has visibly warmed to the girl since dropping the bomb she seems to be handling well.
The only difference now is that we’re all hyperaware of one another, and it shows in the way Maddie keeps watching us. It shows in the way she blushes, the way she’ll look away quickly when one of us catches her staring, and it certainly shows when she bites her lip and fans herself after falling silent for long moments. I’ve been dying to know what kind of thoughts she’s been having to make her that flustered, but I know I wouldn’t be able to give her the space she needs to think about us.
I’m itching for an answer, but nowhere near as bad as Caid. I’ve stopped that dick from bothering her about an answer no less than four times in the past two days alone. If I thought I was going crazy, I’m pretty sure Caid is at asylum levels. I don’t know how we’ve managed to spend time with her through the week without him detonating like a freshly lit stick of dynamite.
We’re all very aware of what happened between her and Rayne, and we know about the conversation she had with Ryan, because we already know secrets in a group relationship will have our unit falling apart quicker than a sandcastle. We’ve never kept secrets from one another in the years we’ve been friends, and we’re not going to start now, not when there’s somuch that relies on us being able to function in a relationship with the same woman.
The very same woman who snuck out this morning after falling asleep against me while we watched a movie and got all red-faced and skittish the moment she woke up. Again, dying to know what was on her mind, because she didn’t once make eye contact, and I’m pretty sure I heard her mutter something about penguins and polar bears before she snuck out when no one was looking.
I only noticed because I heard her voice fade right before the door closed from my position on the couch, and so I texted her, asking where she ran off to. Lo and behold, the little sneak ran to The Arena. Feeling like the stalker I’m convinced Caid is turning into, I followed after her once I was done showering and changing into my clothes for the day.
I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know I’m here, tucked away on one of the top rows of seats, watching for a second time as she skates like a devil on blades, gliding around like the ice owes her something. She’s beautiful, graceful, and fearless, bending and twisting in all kinds of shapes and directions, and I’m stunned for the billionth time that I’ve been close enough to this woman that I know how she smells, how many freckles dot her face, and what she looks like when she’s fast asleep and using my body as a pillow.
Maddie runs through five songs before she finally slows down, and I can see her panting for air from my vantage point. Her hands are propped on her hips, her head tipped back as she puffs for her next breath, and I fall to my baser instincts when my eyes drop to her heaving chest not once, but twice, because I’m a filthy man who has had a hard-on for the vixen on the ice since the moment I met her.
I told the guys we were in trouble. I fucking told them.
And now I’m here, creeping on her while she’s trying to destress or think, watching her like a lion watches a gazelle.
Wiping a hand over my beard, I watch Maddie like she’s my favorite show as she skates circles around the ice, simply gliding with no real rhyme or reason. It’s as though she’s just moving her body, unable to stand still for too long, and my eyes are on her like a hawk the entire time.
“You’ve got issues,” I whisper to myself, shutting my eyes to try to get my shit together. It’s one thing for Caiden to act like an idiot, but I feel like I’ve sunk to whole new depths now that I know she likes us, and that she knows we like her enough to form a relationship that revolves around her.
I’m about to stand and leave, actually giving her the privacy she clearly wanted, when the device in my pocket decides to fuck me six ways to Sunday. My phone blares when a call comes through, my ringtone actually echoing through the rink despite the blaring music that continues to play, and draws the attention of the woman I was trying to hide from.
Awkwardly, I catch the moment Maddie realizes it’s me, and her hand raises slowly to wave at me like she’s too shocked to do much of anything else. I wave back, because there isn’t much use in me acting like I’m not here anymore, and reach for my cell that continues to announce my presence.
Glancing at the caller ID, I clench my jaw before answering.
“Where the hell are you, man?” Caiden asks, bypassing all greetings and jumping straight into a conversation I don’t want to be having. “Ry said you rushed out about thirty minutes ago. Did you forget you were meant to come with me to look for vacation destinations and shit?”
