Page 28 of His Secret Obsession

“We could be friends?” she asks hesitantly.

That’s not all I want to be, but that’s what I’ll have to settle for.

“Yeah, friends.” I nod, my lips quirking into a genuine smile that she returns.

“Okay. Friends.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ears, and I study the movement. Warmth spreads through my chest as I continue standing there, smiling dumbly at her. Why haven’t we had this conversation before? We could have been friends all this time—Luke wouldn’t have cared if I had befriended her. Because there’s nothing going on between us.Nothing.

I jerk my head towards the TV. “There’s anImpractical Jokersmarathon on tonight. You want to watch it with me?” I love the way her eyes light up, a hopeful excitement flashing across her features as her entire demeanor seems to perk up.

Does she know how pretty she is when she’s happy, and how do I keep that look on her face all the time?

“You watch that show?” she asks. “I love it! Luke and I used to watch it all the time!” At the mention of Luke’s name, some of my happiness dims. Which is ridiculous because I can’t be jealous of my own brother. Not for swooping in and going after a woman who is clearly a ten out of ten, not after I walked away.

He didn’t know I wanted her.

“Really? Who’s your favorite?” I ask. Going to the kitchen first, I grab a bag of popcorn and two soda cans. She flashes me an appreciative smile when I set the bag between us and hand her a drink.

“Hmmm, gosh. I think it’s a tie between Joe and Sal.” Her face scrunches up into this adorable expression as she muses over the question. “You?”

“Oh, definitely Joe.” Propping my feet up on the coffee table in front of me, I study her out of the side of my eye as she does the same. The show begins, and the silence between us feels surprisingly comfortable. We laugh at the antics of the four comedians as they prank unsuspecting people. I laugh until my belly aches, and I’m beyond pleased to hear feminine peals of laughter from Maddie.

Eventually, the marathon ends. I expect her to scurry to her bedroom as soon as it’s over, no doubt eager to get away from me again. But she surprises me by snuggling down into the couch with a contented yawn. My heart does a funny little flip as I watch her blink at the TV. “Coming to Americais on next. Have you ever watched that movie? It has Eddie Murphy in it. It’s so funny.” She yawns again.

I jerk my chin towards the TV. “Let’s watch it.”

Reaching behind me, I pull on the chunky throw blanket resting on the back of the couch and spread it over Maddie’s body. She gives me a sleepy grin. The movie starts, and I find myself chuckling at the antics of a foreign prince trying to blend in with everyday civilians in New York.

About halfway through the movie, I glance over at Maddie. My heart nearly stops. She’s slumped on the couch, her head lolling towards my shoulder as light snores rumble from her chest. A fierce longing rushes through me, momentarily taking my breath away in the process. This time with her is something I never expected to have, and it’s bittersweet.

My fingers tremble as I reach my hand towards her. Gently palming the back of her head, I guide her body to lay down with her head on my lap. I’m careful not to wake her, but I also don’t want her to get cricks in her neck. My heart swells with contentment as I watch her peaceful slumber. Then my hands travel back down, and this time, I run my fingers through the soft strands of her brown hair. I study the strands, watching theway the overhead light makes them shine. Unable to pass up the temptation to freely study her, my eyes travel down. I drink in the delicate slope of her neck, the expanse of her collarbone, and the generous swell of her breasts. My cock twitches in my jeans as I remember cupping them that night in my truck. They were a perfect fucking handful. Then my eyes travel down the curve of her hips, and I remember the way it felt when she straddled me.

I groan as I shift in my seat, trying to adjust my half-hard cock without waking her.

“Friends.” I scoff, peering down at her sleeping form with a pained smile. “You have no clue how much that word kills me, do you, sweetheart?”

Credits roll on the TV screen. With my own eyes beginning to feel heavy, I gingerly loop my arms underneath Maddie’s limp body. Making sure my hold is secure, I slowly stand up and carry her up the stairs. She turns her face and nuzzles into my neck without waking.

Her bedroom door creaks as I push it open, making me wince. But Maddie sleeps through it, and I sigh in relief. Pulling back the covers, I lay her down before tucking the blankets around her and reluctantly step back.

Part of me longs to forget all about my baby brother, slip into this bed behind her, and pull her into my arms. How many nights did he fall asleep next to her without thanking God for her presence in his life? I can’t imagine having Maddie in my bed and not wanting to worship her.

I force myself to step out of the room and quietly shut the door behind me.

“Just friends,” I remind myself. “No problem. I can do that.”

Maybe if I say it enough, I’ll even believe it.

The weather gradually turns cold as another week passes by in a blur, but I barely notice. Each morning, I make sure to cook two servings of breakfast. I’ve discovered that Maddie won’t eat before work unless I make enough for both of us. She may believe she isn’t a breakfast person, but I notice the way her eyes light up with anticipation when she comes down the stairs. Often, she has dinner for two ready by the time I get home in the evenings. Some days, we eat in front of the TV in the living room, and on other days, we eat together at the kitchen table. Conversation seems to come easier between us now. We often talk about our days and gossip about our coworkers. I asked her once if she wanted to talk about Luke, and she told me she felt guilty for not missing him more. Other than that, she didn’t seem too inclined to talk about the way things ended between them.

Actually, she spends a fair amount of time complaining about her new boss. Just the mention of Irene Johnson makes me grit my teeth now. I would love to give that old crone a piece of my mind, after I whack her over the head with the high heels I know Maddie despises.

Stealing a glance at the clock, I sigh. For the first time since I’ve become a volunteer firefighter, I wish I hadn’t. I’m scheduled for a shift tonight, which means I can’t spend the evening with Maddie. I’ve become greedy for her time.

Walking into the laundry room, I reach for the work uniform I keep hanging up in there. With my thoughts occupied by a certain brunette woman, I accidently jam my elbow against thelaundry basket sitting on top of the dryer. It slides across the shiny, metallic surface and nearly tumbles off the edge. Cursing under my breath, I grab onto the plastic corners of the white basket and steady it.

That’s when my eyes finally take in its contents, and a growl rumbles up my throat. Maddie has a bad habit of throwing her laundry into the basket and forgetting about it, often not folding it for days afterwards. And this time, she left behind a pile of undergarments. Heat spreads down my spine, going straight to my cock where it begins to swell.

These black little scraps of lace are supposed to cover her pussy?

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