Page 39 of Madden

Chapter Twelve

Brielle

“Brielle? Brielle?”

It takes a second to separate my dream from reality. I shoot upright when I realize my father’s voice originates from somewhere within my apartment. My body tenses.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” I mumble under my breath, looking down as the sheet falls from my chest.

A low grumble next to me brings me crashing to reality when I find Madden asleep.

He’s on his stomach, his arm stretched out above his head, leaving his broad shoulders on display. He pries one eye open and stares up at me.

“Who’s here?”

“My father,” I grit through clenched teeth. “Please do me a favor and stay up here. I need to see what he wants and get him to leave.”

He turns onto his side, dragging his hand through his messy hair. It’s short on the sides and a little longer on the top, and the strands stick up from where I spent all night raking my fingers through it.

I fumble and nearly trip as I search for my clothes before it dawns on me that we left them downstairs in the kitchen last night.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter, padding to my closet. “Give me a second, Dad. I’ll be right down.”

“What are you doing still asleep? It’s after nine in the morning.” His deep voice grumbles, echoing into the high vaulted ceilings to my loft. “What’s with this mess you left down here too? Crap is everywhere.”

That’s my father for you. I don’t know how my mother put up with him for all these years.

The only thing higher than his bank account is his unmeasurable expectations for everyone, his family included. I came to terms with it a long time ago. No matter what I do, I’ll never live up to his impossible standards or make him proud.

I quickly pull on a pair of jeans and shrug on a sweater. I glance in the mirror and find my hair is all over the place.

I don’t even remember what time I fell asleep. Madden and I went a few more rounds, once on my couch, before we eventually stumbled our way upstairs.

He couldn’t get over the view from my apartment and insisted we turn the lights off so only the sight of downtown New York surrounded us.

He’s right, though. It’s what sold me on this place. The floor-to-ceiling windows surround all three sides. You can’t find a better view. While I didn’t love how my bedroom was a loft overlooking the living area downstairs, this view made up for its lack of privacy.

Although I haven’t found it to be a problem until this moment when I realize how likely it would be for my father to see Madden if he even tried to climb out of bed.

“I don’t have my clothes,” Madden whispers, sitting up when I turn around. His gaze drags down my body before finally meeting mine.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t want you to go downstairs until he leaves.”

I smirk, and he rolls his eyes.

I need to get this over with and convince him to go. I jog down the stairs to where my father stands in the kitchen with his phone in his hand. He’s dressed in a black suit and signature gray tie. For being nearly sixty years old, he could pass for being in his forties.

Tones of silver highlight his dark-brown hair at his temples and pepper the facial hair lining his jaw.

“Hi, Daddy,” I murmur, circling the island to hug him.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he greets me, wrapping his arm around me and pecking a kiss on my cheek.

“Why have you been blowing off my calls this week? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you, but they keep going straight to voicemail.”

I drag my lip through my teeth and cross my arms over my chest. I should’ve known if I kept this up, he’d come searching for me. He picked a bad day to do it too.

“It’s been a busy week. A lot going on at work. You know how it is.”

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