Page 27 of Fractured Frets

After returning from downstairs, I stripped to my boxer briefs and crawled into Maddy’s bed. I’d showered before leaving Mexico; I didn’t need another one. By the time Maddy had freshened up and snuggled in beside me in her silky yellow pajamas, she could barely keep her eyes open.

As she lay against my chest, I ran my fingers slowly up and down her spine. With every touch, her breath deepened. She fit perfectly in my arms. Smelled like cocoa butter. It’d been a long time since I’d fallen for a girl. Every day I felt myself fall for Maddy more and more. I wasn’t sure that was a good thing. With everything going on in our lives, the time wasn’t right to contemplate a more meaningful relationship. Did I even want one? Nope. Maybe...Ergh! But I couldn’t deny this was good...being friends who hooked up. Perfect.

But I really liked her.

I wanted to keep seeing her.

After the day she’d had, now wasn’t the time to discuss us.

“This is nice.” Sleepiness drifted through her soft voice.

“Yeah, it is.” I kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you.” She snuggled deeper, closer, tighter into my chest. “For coming over. For being here. For the ice cream.”

“Anytime.”

As I listened to her breathing, and her heart beat against mine, she melted into my side. “I’m sorry. I’m so tired.”

“Maddy, stop saying you’re sorry. It’s okay.” Grinning, I rubbed her arm. But for some strange reason, this was what I needed too. Just to stop. Relax. Be with someone who knew how crazy life could get. Who wanted nothing from me. “I just want to hold you. Watch you fall asleep. Wake up next to you in the morning.”

“You sure?” she murmured.

“Yeah, Mads. I got you. Always.”

Chapter 9

MADDY

THE PRESENT – LATE MARCH

“Mom, I’m home.” I pulled my key out of the opened front door, left my carry-on and garment bag at the bottom of the staircase, and dashed into the kitchen. I had to head back out to attend a TV awards show in less than ten minutes. Getting ready at my stylist’s place had taken longer than necessary. I was late, but Slip was even later. My driver, my publicist, and castmates were worried I’d miss my scheduled arrival time for the red carpet. My stress levels hadn’t come down all day—not after delayed flights home to LA and my dress needing last-minute alterations. But I’d made it. Now I just needed Slip to get there.

He’d been away, touring overseas, for four weeks. Life had been a flurry of gossip, and nosy paparazzi hanging around outside the studio gates and at my condo since we’d gotten married. My production team weren’t pleased about the drama I’d caused. Neither was I. I’d taken my role in Vancouver to avoid attention. Anxiety had crippled me after Noah had dumped me at our wedding in front of the press. I’d never been so humiliated in my life. It had taken me a long time to be comfortable in front of the media again. I made sure I did nothing that would attract the gossipmongers. But then I’d married Slip.

Tonight would be our first public appearance since Vegas.

No doubt we’d attract attention. Some heat. I wasn’t looking forward to that. But after tonight, surely everyone would leave us alone and get on with their lives. There was nothing the media could say or do to us we hadn’t already endured. Was that wishful thinking? Probably.

I just wanted a night of fun. With my husband. Without causing another Internet meltdown.

“Oh, Madison.” Mom put down her iPad and glass of wine on the kitchen counter. She grimaced as she slid off the stool. With not a hair out of place, makeup done to perfection, and dressed in a Dior pant suit, she shuffled and limped toward me, holding her arms out wide. “How are you, angel?”

“Tired, but okay.” I gave her a quick hug, keeping an eye on the time. 4:37p.m. Where is Slip? He should be here. I held Mom’s hand at arm’s length. “Why are you dressed up? You going out somewhere?”

“Yes.” She straightened her jacket. “Later. Just with some girlfriends. It’s Thursday. Cocktail night.”

A dull thud erupted in the back of my head. “But didn’t you go out for lunch today?”

“Yes.” She muffled a cough, wheezed, and tapped her chest as if to clear it. “But tonight won’t be late. It’s just for a couple drinks.”

I closed my eyes, tensed my jaw, and held my tongue. I didn’t want to get into another argument about her health.

But then she took a step back and screwed up her nose as she eyed my long black strapless gown. She scanned the split that ran from the waistline to the floor, and the side of the dress that was only held together by four palm-sized rhinestone bows, exposing my bare flesh underneath. “This is a bit slutty, isn’t it?”

What? I loved this dress. It was sexy and beautiful, but nope—Mom had cut that notion off at the knees. For someone who used to model in less clothing than this, I never understood why she ridiculed what I wore. Not sure if she was protective or jealous. Either way, I ignored her.

“It’s not slutty.” I flattened my hands over the tight bodice. “It’s elegant with a touch of sass.”

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