Page 104 of Cadence
And even though that’s the truth, it still doesn’t touch the gnawing guilt chewing at my insides. I might’ve watched her like a goddamn hawk, like I always do. But still, it wasn’t enough.
I exhale hard, dragging the heel of my hand down my face.
“I need to see her,” I say as he lets me go.
“Okay. We’ll be out here. Take your time.”
The room is dim when I step inside, lit only by a floor lamp in the corner. An IV bag hangs beside the bed, a slow drip feeding into the cannula taped to the inside of her elbow. She’s lying on her side, curled slightly, breath soft and steady, a damp cloth resting on her forehead.
I lower into the armchair beside her, elbows on my knees, fingers laced tight, pressed against my mouth to keep from shattering. She’s still, too still, the duvet pulled to her chest, skin ashen. Her hair clings to her temple in sweat-matted strands, and I reach out, gently brushing it back with shaking hands.
“Maddox?”
Her voice is a breath, barely audible, as her eyes flutter open for a second before slipping shut again. But it’s enough.
It’s everything.
I’m on the bed in a heartbeat, pressing my mouth to her temple, cupping her face like it might keep her tethered here with me.
“I’m here,” I whisper. “Baby, I’m right here.”
Her breaths even out again, and my throat closes, my heart cracking wide open. Because this—this—is the moment. Not the number of shows we sell out. Not the deal we’re inches away from. Not the years I spent building walls no one could climb.
This. Her heartbeat under my palm, her skin beneath my fingers, this fierce, beautiful woman who plays like her soul’s on fire and who I’m hopelessly and stupidly falling in love with.
And the thought of tonight ending differently…
I ease down beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist and tucking her close. Her body curls into mine instinctively, and I hold her, one hand cupping the back of her head, lips to her forehead, and murmur, “I’m here.”
And I would burn everything to the ground to keep her safe.
And that’s the problem.
Because there are things I’ve kept from her. Things that will be the reason she walks away for good. While Beau said us being together was bad for the band, he doesn’t know the extent of what I did.
And I don’t think I’ll survive Paige’s reaction if she ever finds out.
Chapter Forty-Five
Paige
Ineedwater.
My mouth feels like sandpaper, and there’s a dull, throbbing pain behind my eyes that only gets worse when I try to open them. The soft morning light filtering through the curtains is blinding, and I squint at the ornate plastering overhead, at the artwork on the walls I don’t remember seeing in my room before, the décor I know I don’t recognize.
I focus on breathing, trying not to freak out when something shifts behind me and I realize I’m not alone. There’s an arm around my waist, a chest pressed to my back, a steady breath warming the hair behind my ear.
My stomach flips, nausea and confusion clawing up my throat, wrapping around fear. My body aches, my legs feel like they’remade of wet sand, and my skin feels…wrong. Like it doesn’t belong to me.
I close my eyes, trying to piece last night together, but the memories are disjointed. The bar, my drink, Eli laughing. That guy… I squeeze my eyes tighter, trying to recall his face, his name, but it’s all gone. Nothing but a blur.
So is everything after.
I tense, swallowing a sob I can’t let escape, and the body behind me stirs. Their arm tightens slightly, the hand resting lightly on my stomach flexing.
“Paige?”
My heart kicks hard, and I could almost cry. Maddox’s sleepy voice is the best sound I’ve ever heard. Relief crashes through me, dissolving the terror about waking up with a stranger.
