Page 46 of Cadence
“Of course not,” I mutter, bitterness rising like bile. Shoving off the desk, I start to pace, heat flushing up my back in an automatic response that only Maddox manages to stir up–part fury, part something I don’t want to name–every damn time. “Seriously? I thought we sorted all this shit out? You could at least pretend to act like a professional? For the tour, for the band?”
That breaks him. He shifts, a dark sneer, slow and cutting, forming at the corner of his mouth. “You think I’m the problem here?”
“Oh, I know you are.” Annoyance creeps into my voice, but I don’t care anymore. I’m fed up with having the same conversation with him, trying to reason with someone who just stands there—blank and furious and so goddamn hard to read—and I’m done pretending he hasn’t turned this into a game I never agreed to play.
“Let’s look at your track record,” I snap, whirling around to face him and counting off on my fingers. “You struggle to write and refuse help. You change lyrics mid-show. You act like you can’t stand me…then almost kiss me.”
His mouth curls into a smirk, igniting something low in my stomach. “I’m not the one still thinking about it, though, am I?”
My heart pounds harder, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m annoyed or because it’s Maddox, and the last time we started arguing, we…
He steps in and erases the space between us. His scent, sharp and clean, floods my lungs, and I can feel the heat pouring off his chest, can see the cold calculation behind his stare.
“Do you wish I’d done it, Paige?” he murmurs, almost cruel. “Do you lie in bed thinking about me? Wishing I’d taken you up against the wall? Made you scream my name—”
My hand flies up on instinct, fury driving the motion, but he catches my wrist, his grip firm, rough, unrelenting. My breath stutters out, heart thundering under my ribs as his eyes bore into mine.
“What’s wrong with you?” I whisper. “Why do you only see me when you want to hurt me? Do you really hate me that much?”
His grip softens, but he doesn’t release it.
“I don’t hate you,” he says, tone quiet and flat, but something flickers behind his brown eyes. Something he didn’t mean to show. “I nothing you, Paige.”
The breath catches in my lungs, the weight of his words packing a punch that’s quickly followed by a blaze of rage.
Nothing?
Bullshit.
People whonothingyou don’t look at you like one wrong move might end in wreckage, like kissing you could start wars. Like they’ve already imagined exactly how you’d sound with them between your legs, giving into the greatest temptation they’ve ever faced.
Maddox Knox can try to turn every word into a weapon, armor himself in sharp-edged lies, but he doesn’t get to act like this means nothing. Not when every look is like a loaded gun desperate to go off.
“Liar,” I say, my voice shaking despite me. “Keep telling yourself you feel nothing. But this”—I gesture between us—“isn’t nothing.”
He turns away, heading for the door, and I see the tight coil of his muscles bunch under his shirt as he pauses. Every part of him vibrates with something barely restrained before he twists the lock, the resounding click, making my heart lurch.
But then, he spins around, slowly, like whatever was holding him back has finally snapped. And his eyes? They are anything but empty.
“Do you think Iwantthis?” He sounds like his words are clawing their way out from a place he keeps locked shut. His voice, the way he’s looking at me, makes my core clench.
He steps in close until we’re a whisper apart, the air thinning in the small gap between us. I can feel every beat of my heart against my ribs, loud and demanding, as I stare up into his brown eyes, blazing with an intense hunger I’ve never seen in a man before.
“You think I enjoy this fucked-up, can’t-breathe, can’t-think, can’t-look-at-you-without-wanting-to-burn feeling you bring into every fucking room? I’m doing us both a favor before—”
“Don’t give me that,” I snap, wanting to scream, shake him, force him to stop pretending he’s doing this for me. “I was in the room too, remember? I wanted it just as much as you did, I–”
“And if we had, we wouldn’t have stopped,” he growls, stepping closer, daring me to call him on it, to test him, no remorse in his eyes, just truth, brutal and bone deep. “You think this is about one kiss? Paige, if I touch you the way I want to…I won’t be able to stop.”
“So what?” I shoot back, voice breaking with frustration. “It’s easier to treat me like a mistake than admit you feel something real?”
He flinches, shaking his head once, sharp, furious. “It’s easier than watching everything I built go up in flames because I couldn’t keep my fucking hands off you.”
“You don’t get to make that decision for both of us,” I yell, pressing into his space now until we’re chest to chest. “You’re not protecting the band, Maddox. You’re only protecting yourself. From me. From this.”
His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t say a thing.
I breathe out, words trembling now. “I know I didn’t read something that wasn’t there.”
