Page 73 of The Love You Win

Alex’s frown deepens, but he still pulls out the chair across from me at the four-person circular table and sits his ass down as if I’ve invited him to join me. He looks constipated. I can’t believe I ever found him attractive. “Anyway,” he says. “It’s pretty crazy we ran into each other, huh?”

“Is it?” I arch a brow. “I wouldn’t call this running into each other. I was just sitting here waiting for my boyfriend when you plopped your ass down uninvited.”

When Alex’s jaw ticks, I know I’m well and truly pissing him off. This isn’t going the way he thought it would, and that brings me great joy. “Boyfriend?”

I snort out an undignified laugh. Of course, that’s the part he latches on to.

“You’re dating someone?”

As if he doesn’t know. He must have heard all about how Maddox and I were acting at the charity dinner from his best friend.

“Yeah,” a deep voice rumbles. “She is.” Maddox steps beside me and tilts my chin up. He claims my mouth with a searing kiss that leaves me breathless. His molten chocolate eyes hold mine, reading me, making sure I’m okay. Maddox doesn’t know the full story of what happened with Alex, but he knows enough. “Sorry that took so long, baby.” And then he kisses my forehead, drags a chair beside me, and folds himself into it. Maddox drapes his arm across the back of my chair and nestles me into his side before grabbing his boring cup of plain black coffee.

“It’s okay,” I reply, my attention only for him. “Your fans are important.”

“Not as important as you.”

That ball of light in my chest is halfway to going supernova because I know he means it. Maddox isn’t just paying me lip service or saying something that sounds good because my ex is sitting across from us, studying this whole interaction with a hilarious frown on his face. Maddox means it.

We stare at each other for a few beats, which I’m sure is super awkward for Alex. To his credit, he lasts a couple of seconds longer than I think he will, then clears his throat.

“You should probably get that checked out,” I tell him, sounding infinitely bored.

Alex’s forehead creases. “What?”

“You keep clearing your throat. You should get that checked out.”

Maddox fake-coughs to cover up a laugh, which Alex does not find amusing. Still, being the bigger man—both literally and figuratively—Maddox reaches a hand out across the table. “I’m Maddox. You are?”

I hide my smirk behind my delicious mocha toffee latte. Alex hesitates for a moment before shaking Maddox’s hand and winces when Maddox squeezes. “Alex. I’m Isla’s?—”

“Nothing.” I cut in. “You’re not my anything.” I haven’t told Maddox that Alex and I were engaged, and this isn’t really the way I wanted it to come out, but here we are. I suppose there will be no more hiding it after this.

Shifting in his seat, this whole interaction obviously going way differently than he imagined, Alex’s jaw ticks. “I’m her ex-fiancé.”

Spine stiffening, I glance at Maddox to gauge his reaction. He gives me a squeeze and a quick smile before turning back to Alex.

“Ah. Isla mentioned something about an ex, but she said it was no big deal. One of those relationships you should have ended way sooner, but didn’t because you get stuck in a dating rut.” He turns to me with a furrowed brow. “I thought you said his name was Leslie or something?”

Oh, god. It’s so hard not to laugh at that. Relief floods my body that Maddox doesn’t seem put out even as Alex’s face morphs into one of rage before schooling it and leaning back in his chair. All I can do is shrug because if I open my mouth, I’m going to lose my shit.

Maddox tilts his head to the side as though he’s really wracking his brain, trying to remember what name I’d given him for my ex. Eventually, he returns my shrug. “Eh, I can’t remember. I think we talked about our exes the night I made you come four times in two hours, so I was a little preoccupied.”

Oh. My. God. My face erupts in flames and I swat his chest. “Maddox! Jesus Christ, there are families here.”

My mischievous hockey player glances around before saying, “No one heard me, baby.” He takes a swig of his coffee. His voice lowers. “I think we can break that record tonight.”

“Maddox…”

Alex clears his throat for the third time. This time, the sound is decidedly pissed. Maddox turns to him, plastering a concerned look on his face. “Isla’s right, man. You should definitely see a doctor. You don’t sound too good.” He gives my ex a quick once-over. “You don’t look too good, either.”

“Isla,” Alex says, barely ignoring Maddox’s jab. “Can we go somewhere and talk? I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how things ended between us, and it would be good to talk things through. We were always so good together. I hate that I may have hurt you.”

May have? May have? I want to throw my piping hot latte in his face. I want to punch him. I want Maddox to punch him. A million things I’d love to scream race through my head. But I remain outwardly calm, Maddox’s heat grounding me and tethering me. Alex wants an emotional reaction. He thrives off them. His favorite game to play was pushing me and pushing me until I’d blow up, and then he’d press a hand to his chest as though my reaction came out of nowhere, then imply I was crazy or overly emotional.

I won’t give him that power over me again.

“Pass,” I say, sounding bored. I even fake a yawn while mentally high-fiving myself. Because Alex does not like that reaction.

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