Page 71 of His Secret Obsession

“I’m not giving up,” he says stubbornly. “I love you.”

“Luke.” My eyes fall shut for a brief moment, my hand coming up to cover my mouth. My heart begins to slam against my ribcage. I have to put an end to this. It’s not even the crowd around us that has me panicking. I don’t want Jax to be subjected to this conversation. Instinctively, I know this will hurt him.

Protect, protect, protect.

I want to shield him from this.

“We have a lot of history. Don’t walk away because of one mistake. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness.” Luke’s hands begin to tremble at his sides as they reach into his pocket. The ground feels like it’s giving away beneath my feet when he pulls out a black, velvety box. I mutely shake my head, pleading with my eyes for him not to do this.

The gathering crowd around us grows larger, many of them now openly gawking and tapping the arm of the people nearest to them before pointing at us. Spectacle—Luke is making this into a damn spectacle. I want to strangle him, even as my heart breaks on his behalf. When Luke’s knee begins to bend, I reach forward to stop him. But before I even take two steps, he’s kneeling on one knee with the open ring box.

There’s a buzzing in the back of my mind, a sort of disbelief coursing through my blood as I numbly watch him.

“Let me show you how much you mean to me, Madds.” He looks up at me with a hopeful, nervous expression. I want to throw up. “Will you marry me?”

And that’s when I realize, in all the years we were together, not once did I picture us married. But I’m imagining it now: silent dinners where we don’t talk, him going out to see his friends while I watch TV alone, me pretending to be asleep when he stumbles in drunk. And when I compare it to the time I’ve spent with Jax, it makes me wonder why I was ever willing to settle for less.

Luke is my friend, but we’ll never love one another with the passionate, mind-consuming love that we both deserve.

His smile slips. “Madds?”

Shaking my head, I blink away tears and wrap my arms around myself. Taking a step back, I hope to feel the warmth of Jax’s chest, but it doesn’t come. I just want to get out of here and back into his arms, but the words on my tongue feel thick. Why did I let our relationship drag out so long, and why did he? When did it all become a habit?

I swallow back a lump as the hope winks out of his eyes. He stands up, his shoulders slumped as the wide-eyed crowd murmurs around us.

“You deserve someone who will love you the way I can’t,” I whisper.

Luke winces, pocketing his ring. He rubs at the back of his neck, watching me warily as I step backwards. Peering over my shoulder, I search for the man that I do love. I want to tell him…I’m going to tell him that I don’t want this to be a temporary fling where we fuck these feelings out of our system. The feelings I have for him, they aren’t so fickle as that.

But my heart stutters as I swing my gaze around.

He isn’t here.

“Jax?” I call out his name, spinning around, my voice frantic as I search for him. Behind me, Luke murmurs my name but I ignore him. A cold sliver of fear crawls down my spine. We came in separate vehicles, but….

He left me here.

“I have to go,” I say to Luke, pulling car keys out of my pocket with trembling fingers.

“Go where? Is everything okay?”

“I—I’m sorry!” I call the words over my shoulder as I jog away, weaving around the gathering crowd. When I get behind the wheel of my car, I dial Jax’s phone. No answer, not that Iparticularly expected one. I turn my keys over in the ignition, my wheels squealing as I peel out of the parking lot. It’s killing me not to know what’s going through his mind right now.

Did he think I would say yes? I don’t want him thinking that anybody else could ever hold a candle to him—not even for one second.

It’s time to figure out this thing between us, once and for all.

Maddison

“Are you an engaged woman now?”

Jax’s grin is mocking, and it sets my teeth on edge. I purse my lips, my arms crossed, fingers digging into my biceps, and my back pressing to the entryway behind me.

“Should I congratulate you?” he continues, sounding both angry and hurt. Then he looks down at his clasped hands from his spot on the bottom of the staircase, his expression transforming into something bleak and defeated that has a lump forming in my throat.

I speak quietly, but firmly. “The wrong brother asked me, so no. I am not engaged.”

His head snaps up, and I watch as a myriad of emotions cross his face: surprise, hope, relief, and regret. I don’t know what any of those mean for us, and it’s terrifying. It’s the kind of trepidation accompanied by a sweeping chill, reminding me of windows coated in frost on lonely winter mornings.

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