“I get that,” he says and everything about the way he says it, and the look on his face tells me he really does get it. “I could go with you.”
I smile at the thought of Ethan trying to keep me safe. “You would attract far too much attention, especially if your entire wardrobe is made up of those hot-quad shorts. I really don’t think you were put on this earth to be anyone’s security.”
He’s amused at my shorts reference but doesn’t touch it. “I’m being serious, Maddie.”
“You don’t even know me. Why would you give up your life to tag along on a road trip with me?”
“I love a good road trip and it would hardly be giving my life up. I can work from anywhere, and besides I’m not really working at the moment.” His lips quirk. “I promise to stay fully clothed at all times and to leave the hot-quad shorts at home.”
I stare at him. “See, this is how you almost ended up the father of an eight-year-old child.”
“I could swear I just heard you say you wanted to have some fun. I’m your guy for that. I’ll make sure we break some rules along the way.”
Before I know what I’m doing, and before I can stop myself, I’m agreeing to his impulsive offer and he’s immediately making plans to come with me. In my entire life, I’ve never acted as spontaneously and recklessly as I have over the last twenty-four hours. Running from my fiancé was one thing, but running away with another man is a whole other thing.
It can’t be denied, though: I think breaking some rules with Ethan Black is exactly what I need in my life.
8
Ethan
In the hour and a half since we left my place, Maddie and I have talked about surface level shit that I’m fairly certain neither of us are that interested in. My car. My condo. My gym routine. Her gym routine. The places I spent time in Europe over the last year. The fucking weather. It’s when we get into the weather that I glance at her and say, “We need a road trip playlist, and you need to choose our first song.”
“Why?”
“We can’t do a road trip without a playlist.”
“No, why do I have to choose the first song?”
“Because I said so.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re actually very bossy.”
When I just arch a brow, waiting for her to comply, she grins. Then, she admits, “I don’t know my password to log in to make a playlist on the app I use.”
I reach for my phone. “Use mine.”
“Do you share your phone so easily with everyone? Or just with strangers?”
“Do you often go away with strangers?” I give her a pointed look. “We’re not strangers anymore.”
A smile settles across her face. “No, we’re not.” She taps my phone. “You really should put a password on here.”
“I’ve never lost a phone. I think I’m safe.”
She stares at me with disbelief. “Seriously? Is that how you do everything? No safeguards in place?”
“You’d get on well with my assistant. He emails me a list every week with suggested precautions I should consider putting in place.”
“Let me guess, it’s the same list every week because you never action any of it.”
“See, not strangers. You already know shit about me.”
“And wow, your music tastes are fascinating.”
I glance over and find her scrolling through my playlists.
“I haven’t heard of half these bands,” she says as she taps the phone. The sound of John Mayer singing an acoustic version of “Free Fallin’” fills the car.