Page 1 of Finding Fate

One

Gabby

Ipull into Maddox’s parents’ driveway, nervous as all hell. A wave of familiarity assaults me as I park in front of the freestanding garage where they used to practice playing with the band. I never saw them play together, but Maddox talked about it all the time. He would light up the second their band was part of our conversation. It’s one of the things that made me fall so hard. He had so much passion.

I kill the engine to my old Beamer—a car I bought myself after I graduated high school from an old man in our subdivision with money I’d saved up for years. He thought I was crazy, knowing where I came from and what I already had, but he wasn’t allowed to drive anymore medically and I needed something that was mine. Something my father couldn’t take.

The day I walked across that stage in a cap and gown I left everything that was provided by my father behind, including my bright red Acura ILX that was given to me brand-new on my sixteenth birthday with a massive bow on the hood. Most kids would have been excited about it; even the kids at my private school. I didn’t give a shit about driving at all. I gave it all up. Credit cards, college, my car, unlimited cash flow, and a big-ass house with a nice pool—all of it. If I couldn’t have the one thing I cared about I sure as hell didn’t want the shit I didn’t. He ruined my life in more ways than one. Maddox’s too. He put money and power before humanity, so I want none of it.

I look toward the long lit up porch with matching white wicker furniture and Tiffany-blue cushions to match the front door. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here, and none of those times I had driven myself. I’ve been an emotional wreck since I left the multipurpose building today after we had sex. So many things were consuming my mind it was hard to think, and with certain thoughts Maddox brings forth it’s hard to live with myself. There are things that happened I feel I could have been stronger for to bring a different outcome, regardless of my age. But I wasn’t. I was weak.

I kill the engine when the front door opens. Maddox steps out shirtless, only wearing a pair of black, cotton pants hanging low on his hips, leaving more of his solid form on display. His sandy-blond hair separating into darker strands and flipping up at the front proves he hasn’t been out of the shower long.

My heart starts racing as I stare at him out the driver’s side window, ignoring the fact that he’s looking straight at me. Now that he’s older, he’s more than twice his eighteen-year-old size, and has tattoos, reminding me how much time has passed between us. Over six years I’ve wondered what it would be like to see him again, to kiss him, and to experience his love for me, and now that it’s here, all I want to do is fucking cry. I want him as much as I did the day he left.

He makes a move toward the porch steps like he’s afraid I’m going to change my mind. If only he knew. I haven’t given up everything in hopes he’d come back for me to walk away now. If he wants me, I’m his. Always have been. I shove the door open and step out, halting him at the edge of the top step.

As I shut the door behind me, I take a deep breath, trying to prepare, but then, despite everything I told myself, I take off running. His feet start to move down the steps until we meet at the halfway point on the walkway between the driveway and the porch steps, and suddenly I’m in his arms, all of the emotions from earlier coming to a head now that we’re completely alone.

He wraps me up tight and lifts me off the ground. The scent of his body wash hits me and I inhale, becoming dizzy from how good it smells. “I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

I start crying in his ear, unable to help it now that he’s here, right in front of me, and holding on like I’m his lifeline. My legs are already lifting to wrap around his waist. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

“Gab,” he whispers, his voice raw. “All you had to do was call.”

“I was afraid you had moved on by the time I turned eighteen. Or didn’t want me anymore. I’d ruined your life enough. I knew if you came back to me then you were still mine. You never did.”

“I’ve never been anyone else’s.” I squeeze my eyes tight and wrap my arms and legs around him until there’s no space, scared to look at his face with the way his voice sounds.

Memories flood in and those crippling thoughts of what could have been follow right behind. Our lives could have been so different. Happy. We would have been great together. I don’t want to lose him again. I’ll do anything to keep him. “I love you,” I whisper, somewhat afraid even though he admitted he never stopped. “Still, after all these years.”

His feet start to move toward the house at a fast pace. He carries me up the steps as if I’m part of him. He doesn’t say anything the entire way through the door. The smell takes me back. As my eyes open, the familiar cedar living room walls covered in animal mounts catch my attention as he heads up the stairs, the weight bearing down on each one making them creak. Relief washes over me as it occurs to me where he’s going.

Moments later, his door opens, and he walks into his bedroom. The floor is neat and clean, as well as his bed, but the surfaces are cluttered chaos—something they’ve always been. There is nothing organized about Maddox. His dressers and desk were always a catch-all when we were together, and it’s comforting to know that hasn’t changed. It makes me feel like I’m home . . . finally.

I expected it to be barer than it is, though, since he doesn’t live here anymore. His bed is still here. Based on the open duffel bag with shirts spilling out, it’s like all he took was his clothes.

He leans forward until my back hits the mattress, his lips already kissing all over my neck and jawline while his hands work my short blue jean shorts open. I’d almost forgotten how tender he is in the bedroom, and I don’t mean that loosely. He’s literally a split personality when it comes to sex. Rough and rowdy on the outside, soft and caring on the inside, like a bed is a sacred place for him. Over the years I’ve reflected on it. I guess it has something to do with his folks and their religious ways.

At least I showered after earlier. When I left, I could still feel his touch all over my body like a current of electricity buzzing just beneath my skin, and his cum running out of me. The last person I expected to see when I went to see Konnor’s band was Maddox. I’d ask why the hell Konnor never put two and two together since I mentioned his name that night we were talking over pizza when he was staying with us, but Maddox isn’t anuncommon name.

And to think, he’s been around for God knows how long and we’ve never ‘bumped into each other’. It hurt, to be quite honest. I was mentally freefalling. I had to get some space to think. I knew I was seconds from breaking down. A hot shower is something that’s always been soothing for me. “Your bed is still here,” I say, curiosity winning out even though my zipper is lowering, the anticipation building. I’ve been without sex for too long.

He stands upright, his hands tucked over the waistband of my denim shorts. “Mom told me to take the guest bed since it’s practically brand-new, so I’d still have a place to sleep in my own room when I came home. Let me in, Gab. Please. We can talk after. Just . . . let me in, skin to skin, with nothing in the way. It’s been forever.”

And there is the drastic change. He can go off the charts in hotness factor by telling me to shut the fuck up in that ticket box, then turn around and ask me nicely for the same damn thing. I push my bottom off the mattress to let him remove my shorts, knowing he’s referring to letting him in emotionally more than physically. He doesn’t have to ask me for sex, really. He knows I’ll give it to him any time and any day. Sex with Maddox in a bed is a spiritual experience; like your souls connecting as much as your bodies. You want it like religion. He works my Chucks off my feet. “You’ve been inside me in ways you don’t understand.”

His cheeks flush. I knew it was only a matter of time. Something they do when he’s emotional—mad, sad, happy, glad, the result is the same. He shoves his pants down his legs and steps out, already coming toward me, and the second his knees hit the bed, he’s pushing my tee shirt up my body with purpose, working to remove it. My bra is last to go. My chest starts heaving as his eyes slowly rake down my body. Regardless of how many times we’ve done this in the past, I’m so nervous I feel sick, but then he smothers it with a kiss.

He takes his time, his soft lips exploring my mouth and not in a rush. Every time his tongue touches mine tasty tingles explode in my mouth like Pop Rocks. My heart feels like it’s weeping and rejoicing at the same time. I’m not sure how to feel, or how to deal with this overwhelming weight bearing pressure on my chest. Wanting him closer, I spread my legs to let him through. He places his hand on my hip and digs in when his shaft grazes between my legs, as if he’s trying to hold back. “Maddox,” I whisper between his tugs of my lips with his.

Without me having to say more, he pushes through my wet heat until his pelvis is flush with the underside of my ass, and we’re torso to torso. Using his bent legs as weight support, and only moving his hips, he rocks back and forth as he grabs my hands in his and laces them together, before raising them above my head on the bed. We’re so close that in some places air can’t even come through. “I’ve loved you since the night I met you, Gabby. Time doesn’t extinguish it in the least.”

He peppers my pouty mouth with kisses when tears run down my face. “I’m sorry for what he did to us.”

He thrusts in and out of me at a pace that’s addictive. Not too fast or slow. “Do you want this? Me and you?”

My eyes try to close as my body absorbs every pleasure-filled invasion, but I force them open. I don’t want to miss a single second of looking at him. “More than I want anything.”

---