Page 86 of Enticing My Off Limits Billionaire

I have Madison.

I have the White Oak, Gavin and Kylie, Delia and her commune...and soon, I'll have the Threshold Theatre.

Everything is coming together.

And I'm determined to take Adam on this journey with me.

Chapter twenty-nine

Madison

Iwassoapprehensiveabout picking up Quinn and Adam when I left Andrea's office...but those nerves turn to pure excitement as I approach the airport.

The two of them are waiting outside with less luggage than I would have expected for international travel, and I pull over in my rental car and roll down the window to wave them over. Quinn's face breaks into a big smile when he sees me, Adam waving as well as they come over. I hop out of the car and come around to the trunk, opening it up for them and feeling slightly awkward, not sure what to do.

"You can just throw your stuff back here," I say. "Sorry...I don't drive much so I had to get a rental…"

But I'm interrupted when Quinn grabs me by the waist and pulls me into a fierce hug, his luggage completely forgotten.

"Fuck, I missed you, Mads," he breathes into my hair.

And it's like everything is slotting into place...reminding me exactly where I'm supposed to be. I hug him back, grazing my lips against his neck, not pulling away until Adam clears his throat.

"Thanks for coming to get us, Madison," Adam says with a hapless smile. "I know this has been an inconvenience for you…"

"It hasn't been an inconvenience at all," I say, shaking my head. "I'm glad you're both home where you belong."

Adam gives me a weird look, his hands shoved in his pockets. "I...thanks," he says. "I guess I'll get in the car."

He opens the door and climbs into the backseat, and I cock my head at Quinn. "Is he okay?"

"I think he's just getting used to being treated like a human being," Quinn murmurs. "I think we all are."

It's about an hour's drive from the airport to Adam's clinic, Lifeline. Adam is quiet most of the drive, and when I look in the rearview, I realize he's asleep.

"Jetlag?" I ask.

Quinn shrugs. "Emotional whiplash, more likely."

I glance over at him, chewing on my lip. "It sounds like your trip was pretty rough."

Quinn sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. "I keep thinking to myself that I should be...I don't know. That I should be over this, I guess. But even when you're a grown-ass man, getting fucked over by your parents still hurts."

"Tell me about it," I mutter. "It's interesting, though...this has given me some perspective. What my dad did isn't nearly this bad."

"It's still bad. You were justified in feeling how you did."

I laugh softly. "Somehow, we keep coming back to my problems," I say. "Tell me aboutyours. I'm listening."

So he does.

For the rest of the drive, stuck in traffic through the city, Quinn tells me how he felt about going to France, about his parents making it clear they just wanted Adam out of their hair...and how he finally chose to come home.

Not just to New York.

To me.

"His well-being depends solely on me now," Quinn says. "I don't know how the hell I'm going to handle all this… but I know it'll be worth it. I did my research, contacted every damn long-term rehab in the city. I found the right place for him."

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