Page 80 of Perfect Praise

“I’m fully aware of my predicament,” I say. “Somehow, I’ve stayed away from alcohol and drugs. But if it’s not those, then it’s golf. And when I want to slow down, it becomes a person. I can’t escape it, Conrad.”

“I’ve watched you watching her for the last few weeks. This is different. Maren is different.”

“Look,” I say. “I’m trying to control my feelings and using every ounce of self-control I have. Every day I feel like I’ve lost it. I’m going out of my fucking mind.”

“You’re letting her in,” he sighs. “You were jealous of another man hitting on her, and now you feel vulnerable. You don’t usually let that happen.”

With his elbows on his knees, Conrad hangs his head when Elise and Blake traipse through the living room on their way to the kitchen. They both beam at me. Elise winks.

“Do you have a point?” I ask, turning back to him.

Conrad’s shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath before he looks back at me. His eyes hold steady, almost like he’s daring me to look away. “I’m watching you fall in love with someone before my eyes, and you think it’s because you’re addicted to her.”

I’ve ended up outsideof Maren’s door to prove to myself that Conrad’s full of shit.

But after I knock, wait anxiously, panic for a minute that she’s not home, before she finally opens her door, I know the real reason why I showed up on her doorstep as soon as I see her smile.

It’s one of surprise, but also genuine happiness that I’m here.

“Hey,” she says. “How was dinner?”

“Exhausting,” I tell her. So exhausting I’ve been tossing and turning in bed for over an hour.

“It’s late. You should get some sleep for the last day of the tournament tomorrow.”

And the real reason I came. “I don’t want to sleep alone.”

Her hesitancy washes over me like she poured a bucket of nails on top of me. The sting starts in my brain and cascades down to my feet.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” I say abruptly, words stilted.

Her eyebrows quirk. “You didn’t. I’ve been in major editing mode. I didn’t even know what time it was until you knocked and scared me.” Then she seems to realize at this moment that I’m in my boxers. “Where are your clothes?” she asks, eyes stuck to my torso. A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of her lips when she sees my tattoo again.

I shrug. “I put these on to walk over here, and I walked over here because I want to be next to you when I fall asleep.”

It’s that simple. Nothing more to it.

Now, have I ever had a thought like that about a woman before? No.

“You look tired,” she says, reaching out and taking my hand to pull me into the doorway.

“Ouch,” I tease, folding my body around her. Relief stretching across my chest.

Maren melds, tucking herself into me and making it easy for me to maneuver her. I pick her up around her thighs, wrap them around my waist, and carry her up the stairs.

She throws her arms around my neck, scrunches her nose, and whispers, “Hot but tired.”

I click my tongue before I bite her earlobe.

“Locke,” she giggles.

When I make it up to the loft bedroom, I crawl on my knees to the middle of the bed and scoot Maren’s laptop over.

Her screen comes to life and illuminates brightly in the dark room with the picture she took of me putting earlier.

“You’re editing my picture.” I smile and allow my heart to warm as I place her down under the covers. Maren quickly rolls over, cheeks pink, and shuts the laptop before she sets it on the nightstand.

“I can’t believe you can actually hear my shutter. I thought you were lying,” she says.

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