Page 125 of Mad Love

“And what’s yours?” I crossed my legs, glancing at the door.

“Technically the Marquess of Perring,” he replied, his tone formal and stiff. “The proper term would be, my lord.”

I couldn’t help but giggle. “Wow. That’s so crazy. You’re practically royalty.”

He shrugged, but a small blush stole across his freckled cheeks. “It’s a title, nothing more. The nobility doesn’t mean what it used to five hundred years ago.”

“It’s kinda cool,” I teased. “You’re a—what? A lord?”

He nodded.

“Lord Winthrope,” I said, pitching my voice with a false British accent.

Amused, he shook his head with silent laughter. “It’s Lord Perring, but Chase is fine, if you please.”

I huffed with fake annoyance. “It does not, in fact, please me, your lordship.”

“Bloody hell,” he groaned, but smiled.

My laughter dimmed as I looked at the door again. “I wonder how Bex is.” It had been over an hour since she’d gone back to be with her mom.

“The doctors said that they think Mrs. Whittier will make a full recovery,” Chase said gently.

I turned and smiled a little. “I know. I just worry about Bex.”

“I worry about you both,” Chase replied, his brow furrowed. “Honestly, Madison, I was hoping you’d get a little perspective here and see that this isn’t normal.”

“This?” I echoed, disdain dripping from the word.

“Needing permission to go somewhere? Armed guards watching your every move?” He shook his head. “It’s not healthy.”

“Maybe not,” I agreed. “But it’s what I’ve chosen, and I’m not going back.”

After a heavy sigh, he held up his hands. “All right. Whatever you wish.”

The door to the waiting room cracked open and Bex stepped inside, her eyes swollen and red from crying. My heart sank as I stood up, expecting the worst.

“She’s gonna be okay,” Bex told me, her voice cracking. “She broke a couple ribs and her ankle, and she has a pretty bad concussion, but they think she’ll make a full recovery.”

“Thank God,” I whispered, my shoulders sagging as I hugged her. “Did they say how it happened?”

“Drunk driver,” she replied. “He drove through a red light and slammed right into her. He didn’t have a freaking scratch on him. He’s in jail.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath and forced a smile. “That’s good news.”

Bex sniffled against me. “Yeah. Right now she needs her rest, but the doctors said I could come back in the morning.”

Malcolm Whittier appeared in the doorway, looking stressed in a rumpled gray suit and a wrinkled shirt with several buttons undone. His dark hair, the color of Bex’s, stuck up in various places where he’d likely been running his hands through it.

“Dad got us a hotel nearby,” Bex added, pulling away. “Maybe you should head back to PC? I mean, you don’t have to stay—”

“I’m staying.” I took her hands in mine. “No way would I leave you alone right now.”

She smiled, gratitude shining in her eyes. She glanced at her dad. “Maddie can stay with us, right?”

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Of course, sweetheart.”

“I’ll get my own room,” Chase added, his eyes meeting mine. “My… friends and I will stay nearby in case either of you need anything.” He looked at Malcolm and strode forward, hand outstretched. “Forgive me, I don’t believe we’ve met. Charles Winthrope, but my friends call me Chase.”

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