Page 19 of Rising Star

I put my mug and papers down, and tugging at the back of my hoodie, I pulled it over my head and threw it at her. “Wear this.”

Madison’s lips parted, and she murdered me with her gaze. “Are you serious?”

I crossed my arms over my chest and tipped my chin. “Do I look like I’m joking? You can’t wear these clothes. It’s just…well…inappropriate.”

“Pardon?”

She scowled at me, no other sound coming from her.

We both engaged in a staring contest, neither of us ready to back down. To accept defeat.

After a moment, with a glower that turned her eyes into weapons, she slid her arms into my sweater and rose to her feet, her eyes still zeroed in on me. Too big on her, my hoodie ended just above her knees.

Something in me clamped tight.

She was supposed to look less tempting wearing more clothes. Instead, she looked even more attractive with my sweater on.

This. Wasn’t. Supposed. To. Happen.

Her long dark ponytail swept over her shoulder. The muscle of my jaw ticked, and I clenched it until my teeth hurt.

“Happy now?” She folded her arms over her chest, mimicking my posture. “When I signed up for this job, I don’t recall the contract saying anything about being treated like a child or getting a second father figure in the process.”

My irritation toward her seared. She didn’t go there, did she?

My lips pursed, but I couldn’t find the words to express my ire or my thirst because, at this point, there were hard to untangle, both heating up my blood and other parts of my body and taking over me.

“Stop being a brat. I’m not your father. Because these thoughts I have about you are not father-daughter like, I swear. You should be aware by now.”

Madison yelped, her lips parting, so ready to be kissed. Or fucked.

No, man. Stop. Enough.

She stared at me, her pink lips pursed, ready to speak.

There. Better.

“Then stop acting like you are.” Her tone imitated mine now. Edgy and full of sass behind the laced-with-hunger annoyance. “You’re not allowed to dictate how I should dress. And you have no right to barge out here and get mad at me when I’m off the clock. When I agreed to move in here, you promised I’d have my own space. And right now, your acting out is in contradiction to your own words. You asked me if I trusted you before. I did. I still do. But this…this invasion of my private time is unacceptable.” She ended her rant with a tip of her chin, defiant and even more alluring as she didn’t back down from the fight I started.

My anger reached new heights.

Madison took a stand before me, and I fought with myself to not shut her up with a kiss. A swirl of my tongue all over her soft flesh. The apex of her thighs. Or those perky nipples that pointed at me through the fabric of her bra minutes ago.

“Commenting on my appearance is a new low for you. Better think about it twice next time before chastising me with undeserved criticism.”

“Well, if you wear such few clothes in September, what do you even wear in July?” She opened her mouth, but I continued. “Don’t answer. I don’t wanna know. Anyway, I already do. Gosh, Maddie, you can’t parade in spandex and think I’d be cool with that. It’s distracting. You’re distracting. Not that you can’t wear what pleases you, I agree. This whole situation is unbearable.” I closed my eyes and exhaled the air screwing with my brain cells. “Now get dressed before you catch a cold.”

A cold? Was I being stupid on purpose? Damn it. A cold. Now I really sounded like a dumb teenager’s father. The urge to facepalm myself itched my arm. Instead, I stood my ground in front of the woman wrecking my world.

Right about now, I had no clue how to control this hormonal storm invading me, and I readied myself for the disaster waiting to happen. When did I transform into this pathetic version of myself?

I used to be fun. And loved to party and have a good time. Drink, dance all night, make love under the stars, come up with new and exciting plans, be optimistic, and dream big.

Fucking Lisa.

How long was I going to blame her for everything bad happening in my life? How long could I fault myself because she abandoned me? My forbidden crush on Madison had nothing to do with my ex-wife. Except for the fact I wouldn’t be standing here in this aroused state if she hadn’t walked out on us.

Would we still be happily married if she hadn’t left, though? No.