Page 64 of Never Dance with the Devils
I breathe a sigh of relief that it’s not anything too bad. “Yeah, celebration meeting gone wrong. Riggs showed me a TikTok last night. He made sure the people in the comments knew who Brent is and what company he works for so that he’s the one that looks like the asshole he is.” Knowing Cole, he’s already put together a dossier on everyone in the video, so I don’t bother explaining the backstory. “I’ll get with Legal today, make sure Blue Lake is clear of any blowback from the contract dissolution and my verbal altercation with Brent. And Maddox invited Brent to come after him for assault if he wanted to. I’ll make sure he has non-team legal advice if he needs it.”
“That’s all well and good, Kayla, but that’s not what I’m talking about,” he says, the words measured anddeliberate. “There’s footage of you, Riggs, and Maddox outside the restaurant. Looks like it was taken by a valet or maybe another guest? It shows the three of you standing together on the sidewalk, looking very cozy and intimate.” He pauses, letting that sink in, but I’m still not ready when he says, “They’re calling you ‘The Latest and Greatest Mad-Trick’.”
And with that, the floor drops out from underneath me.
I’ve been reduced to a cheap anacronym, our relationship diluted down to some kinky threesome fuckery.
“Kayla? Are you there?” Cole is asking in my ear, but I don’t have words.
“I have to go,” I manage to stammer out.
RIGGS
“Good morning, Sleeping Ugly.”
The unwelcome voice breaks into my unconsciousness, dragging me from delicious dreams. I crack open one eye, unfortunately not seeing Kayla beside me, but Maddox a solid two feet away on the other side of the bed. It’s still too close, especially since my dream has me at full mast. “I really hate waking up alone in bed with you.”
“Same. But we have a problem.”
I’m instantly awake, lifting my head to search the room for Kayla. “Where is she?”
“Work… apparently.”
I let my head fall back to the fluffy soft pillow, unbothered. “She said she’d have shit to do after last night’s meeting imploded.”
Maddox hums thoughtfully. “Maybe, but look.”
He holds a piece of paper in front of my face, nearly touching my nose with it. Irritated, I snatch it out of his hand so I can hold it at a more reasonable distance for reading.
Went to the office. Call me as soon as you wake up.—K
It’s scribbled, obviously written in a hurry, and doesn’t have Kayla’s lipstick kiss print on the bottom like that first note she left. That disappointments me more than it probably should.
“You getting a sense of déjà vu? Because I am.” Maddox’s declaration comes as he steals the note back, reading it for himself again.
He’s leaned back against the headboard with the sheet puddled in his lap, and I stare at him, noting every micro-expression that crosses his face as he scans the piece of paper. He’s worried, and he’s not a person who worries… about anything. I clamber out of the bed, pulling my underwear on like the world’s most useless armor and glad that stress has got me down to barely chubbed. “You think she’s panicking? Because of the asshole at the restaurant or… what we did?”
Last night was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Literally. I never once considered taking a woman with Maddox like that, but as soon as Kayla said she wanted it, I did too. And, to me at least, it’d felt like a final puzzle piece clicking into place. It felt… right. Not that it needs to be like that every time, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s on my mental list of awesome shit to do again.
“All of the above, yes.”
“Fuck.” Just like that, cold dread builds in my gut, spreading through my arms and legs to the point of numbness but sending my heart rate through the roof.
Kayla gave us a bit more information about her work deal last night, mostly saying that she’d have to go in early today to handle it. But she’d seemed confident it was manageable, so there’s no professional reason forher to panic, which leaves the video of Maddox punching the guy as a possible freak-out point of origin. But the scarier possibility is that she’s running because of us. Out of fear that what we did last night—not the double penetration, but the gritted words with even deeper meaning laced through them—came too soon, too fast, too strong for her.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” I admit, not regretting the feelings, but the honesty.
“You weren’t exactly quoting Shakespeare, but it was pretty damn obvious what you were saying,” he says. He arches one brow. “You mean it? You love her?”
“Don’t you?” I’m deflecting and we both know it, but I also want to know where Maddox’s head is at. I have no doubt about mine, but I want to see his cards before showing my hand.
He’s quiet for a long moment before he carefully says, “Kayla isn’t the type to jump in the deep end with both feet and her eyes closed, but in a lot of ways, she’s done just that with us. I think she’s going to backslide before she commits.”
His non-answer pisses me off, despite having done the same thing myself for a relatively similar reason—fear. “Sounds a lot like someone else I know. Someone who is perfectly content to let things stay surface-level, or even shallower, but as soon as things get the slightest bit deep, or real, he laughs it off like a joke,” I growl. “It’s a valid defense mechanism, but at some point, you’re going to have to risk it for the biscuit.”
It's the most I’ve ever called him on his bullshit because I’m not sure Kayla is the one panicking. I think The Panicker is still in the room with me, fighting to uphold his image as a carefree, easy-going guy who canbounce back from anything in record time. But underneath that image, there’s a man with a good heart, one he hides from almost everyone. That he’s shown it to Kayla demonstrates that she is as different for him as she is for me.
She'd better fucking be, I think, glaring at Maddox and suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to punch him.
