Page 12 of Trouble
“I managed to convince him to go see it with me.” It wasn’t the only thing I’d managed to convince him of. A delicate wave of lust licked at my groin. I wished I could tell Ianthe I’d had sex with Maddox, and we were going to look at the car which was five hours away, and we were going to do an overnight.
Those were…unnecessary details, as far as I was concerned.
I wanted a weekend of being wild and crazy with Maddox before my brother came home and ruined everything.
The following day, I could barely contain my enthusiasm. I’d taken the afternoon off work to prepare and buzzed around my house, preparing for the weekend and trying to avoid my mother’s questions.
“Where are you going again?” she demanded, sitting on the edge of my bed as I emptied the contents of the closet onto the floor, searching once again for the right thing to wear.
“You remember Kayla Thomas from school?”
She frowned. “Yes, I think so.”
“I’m going to visit her.” I named the closest city to where Maddox and I were actually going to put her off the scent. “She’s invited a bunch of us for a birthday party.”
“Is Ianthe going?”
Shit. I hadn’t told Ianthe of my cover up plan yet. My mother would probably check in with her.
“No.” I avoided looking at her directly, pretending to be engrossed in the contents of my sock drawer. “She has to work.”
“That’s a shame. It’s been a long time since you two have done anything like that together.” Mum stood up and patted me absently on the shoulder. “Make sure you take proper rest breaks on the drive up, won’t you, love? And call me when you get there?”
Sometimes I think my mother believed I was still in high school rather than being twenty-three and a college graduate. Okay, it was only community college, but still.
I heaved a relieved sigh as she left the room. Flinging myself across the bed, I found my phone and called Ianthe. When it went to voicemail, I offered up a silent prayer of thanks. At least I could tell her some of the details and she wouldn’t press me to elaborate. And when she called me back, I could plead I was driving and couldn’t answer the phone.
“Hey, Ianthe, it’s me. If my mum asks, you couldn’t go to Kayla Thomas’ birthday bash because you were working. I’m going to see the car with Maddox; I don’t want her finding out and telling Andre. Thanks, babe, you’re a star! We’ll catch up when I get back.” I hoped I sounded sufficiently informative, yet still vague. The promise of a gossip session so she could get all the juicy details ought to be enough to keep her from spilling the true details. For good measure, I turned the phone to silent and continued packing.
Who knew one night away was going to cause so much stress?
We were literally driving up there tonight, sleeping, seeing the car, haggling over the price, then driving back.
We’d be spending less than twenty-four hours together.
And yet I’d changed my outfit three times. Packed sexy nightwear, unpacked sexy nightwear and replaced it with a tank top and shorts combo. Pulled my hair up into a bouncy ponytail, let it hang loose and sexy over my shoulders, then pulled it back up again.
There was an ache in the pit of my stomach.
I wasn’t sure how Maddox felt after last night.
While I thought I’d done the right thing by walking away, I hadn’t had any contact with him since. The nerves gnawed away at me as I drove over to the garage. I pulled up on the opposite side of the street, watching as Maddox closed the place up for the night. As he pulled the doors shut, I was transported back to the previous evening. The clanging of the lock signaled the anticipation as he’d left me hanging in the office before finally doing what I’d wanted him to do for so many years. A shiver shot down my spine.
Oh God, how I wanted a repeat performance.
After a couple of minutes, I sent him a text letting him know I’d arrived, but he was already walking out of the building, an overnight bag in one hand.
That’s when it got real for me.
We were really doing this.
Maddox tossed his bag into the back of the Jeep, then opened the passenger door and sank down into the seat. Without turning his head to look at me, he blew out a breath. “I need you to understand that I’m looking at this as a business deal. If I check out the car and think it’s a money pit, we’re not getting it. No amount of begging or fluttering your eyelashes is going to take that.”
He sneaked a sidelong look at me, appraising my outfit. I’d gone for low key: blue denim jeans, Converse and a checked shirt, the top button of which was straining to contain my breasts. The perky ponytail cemented the cute, preppy, innocent look—well, except for that pesky button—a total one eighty from my appearance last night.
“Same for us. There can be no us, Lyla. You know this. Yesterday was a fluke.” He dragged a hand through his dark hair, and I thought I detected a note of sadness in his voice.
“I can make you want me,” I reminded him. I reached across to take his hand, but he snatched it away.
