Page 3 of Maddox

My eyes shot open and the cry that left my throat wasn’t just because there was a man standing over me in my friend’s bedroom or the endearment he used. It was that I recognized him and every embarrassing detail of last night came back. Bile hit the back of my throat, and I panicked, shoving the comforter back and scrambling to get out of bed.

But Maddox knew instantly what was wrong and he lifted me, getting me to an unfamiliar bathroom and setting me down in front of the toilet just in time.

And he held my hair.

And wiped the back of my neck with a damp washcloth.

If that wasn’t bad enough, he also helped me to rinse my mouth out and even produced a new toothbrush. Then he asked me if I needed some privacy.

I nodded and he left until he heard me flush the toilet, then he was back and standing behind me at the sink, pumping the soapand taking both my hands in his, even turning to the faucet to rinse our hands. Then he took the towel and instead of passing it to me, he carefully dried my hands.

By this time, I wondered if I was still passed out somewhere in a drunken stupor and imagining this. Maybe I was in the ER getting my stomach pumped. Because I knew this wasn’t real, especially when he stood and made me take two Tylenol and drink all the water before tucking me back in bed. He told me I was safe and to go back to sleep.

It definitely wasn’t real, because I felt him brush a kiss on my forehead after I’d closed my eyes.

The next time I opened them, my headache had at least gone even if my stomach still felt a little off. What I needed was coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. Because at least that might give me the courage to open my eyes and acknowledge I hadn’t been dreaming.

I knew Maddox was still in the room, wherever I was. Maybe I was still in the club? That would make sense, I guessed. I rolled onto my back but still didn’t open my eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

Ughh. Why did he have to sound like he cared? I opened my eyes and sat up without answering. He shot an arm out and I knew it was to help me, but the flinch was instinctual, and he immediately dropped his arm and stepped back.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” I mumbled and looked around for the first time in surprise. Because this wasn’t the club. The walls were painted a soft gray accented with crisp, white trim, and everything was wonderfully simple and clutter free butempty, if that was the right word. I’d stayed in plenty of hotels with more personality. The bed was a simple wooden frame with a white comforter and a few throw pillows.

Maybe I was in a hotel? But the wooden door opposite the bed didn’t have any fire evacuation notices on it, and then I caughtit. The room had a faint scent of musky cologne, reminding me of the man who called this room his own. I knew what Maddox smelled like.

Sanity. Rescue. Safety.

“Where am I?”

“My home,” he answered softly. “Your friends were in no condition to look after you, and I guessed you wouldn’t want me calling your brother.”

“I’m not your responsibility.”But I so wanted to be. Not that it could ever happen because I knew what he was. Once, in another life, I’d have given anything for someone like him, aDaddy. I inhaled sharply, sweat beading the back of my neck at just the thought of the word.

“I was hoping we could be friends.” I looked at him and nearly called him out on the lie. I was as capable of googling someone as the next idiot and I knew who and what he was.

Maddox Rourke, thirty-six, ex-Marine—though actually they never said that. Apparently, there was no such thing as anex-Marine and looking at him, I got that. He was one of four owners of probably the most successful group of nightclubs in Florida. Multi-millionaires. Not that money impressed me. I didn’t care what his bank balance was, and I supposed, coming from money, that made me a shallow bitch. There were plenty of people today that would go hungry.

I realized after going down my rabbit hole that he was standing silently and letting me work out in my head whatever he thought I needed to work out. Which wasn’t anything. What I needed to do was go. “If I could borrow a phone I’ll get an Uber.”

He stared down at me. “No need. I’ll take you. Back to your apartment or your friend’s?”

I didn’t have an answer. I knew I should go back to my apartment, but I didn’t want to be on my own, and I definitely wasn’t going anywhere near Tammy’s. I decided to stand and atleast look like I was decisive, so I swung my legs around and stood. Two things happened. I realized first that I was dressed in what looked like a man’s shirt, and second that my legs hadn’t gotten the memo about standing. He caught me before I crumpled, and I closed my eyes as humiliation stung.

“Steady there,” he soothed, and laid me back down, arranging my pillow and covering me up. Hell, he was tucking me in and my eyes stung harder. “I know you don’t know me well,” he said gently and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Your phone is fully charged and just there.” He nodded to the small nightstand. “But I think you need some food before you try that again.”

I swallowed down my humiliation, but I still didn’t know what to say. “Use the phone. Let anyone that will be worried know where you are while I heat some soup.” And then he patted my hand…like achild. Was that it? Did he still feel responsible for me? He was a Marine so they had to have that drilled into them.

That made sense. It wasn’t me. I was anobligation. I adored my brother and I knew he loved me, but even that relationship carried obligation. He’d stepped in for my parents after they‘d died, and while a tiny part of me still craved a Daddy, I didn’t need another father.

I picked up the phone and read my single text message from Tammy much earlier the previous day asking me where I was about an hour after we’d arrived at Salvation. I’d probably been in the bathroom. I had nothing from today and it was past two in the afternoon. So much for friends. Or were they? I’d paid for everything last night and apart from one token protest from Tammy, no one else had said a word.

Was this what my life had been reduced to?Buying friends?

“Bit of a boring staple, but I know you’re not a vegetarian, so I made chicken soup.” He flushed. “Sorry, it’s out of a can. If it’s something you like, I’ll learn how to make it.”

And just like that he charmed me. Learn how to make it? This man owned many successful businesses, apart from the whole rescuing people thing, and he was going to learn to make his own soup?

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