Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
For anyone else, I would have sent off a series of angry messages and blown them off. I needed to go home and get ready for my date. I was meeting Isaiah in a matter of hours, and I still needed to shave and blow out my hair. But Maddox was different.
Maddox didn’t miss meetings. He didn’t ignore text messages. He never played games or was anything but eternally professional.
I chewed on my lip in worry. Something must have happened. I shot out another text, asking if he was okay, but he didn’t respond to that. With a huff, I tossed his cold coffee and hustled back to my car. I was across town and at his apartment fifteen minutes later, stalking up the front steps and banging on the front door.
“Maddox Nelson, are you alive in there?”
There was no answer. His truck was in the parking lot. So, he had to be here. If he and Amanda went somewhere, they always took his truck. She never drove anywhere if she didn’t have to. I still found her insufferable to be around, but I’d managed to grin and bear it all summer.
I knocked again. “Maddox?”
When there was still no answer, I tried the knob. And to my surprise, it turned. I slowly crept the door open and peeked my head inside. “Hello?”
“Go away,” Maddox grumbled.
He was seated on the floor in front of the coffee table with an assortment of alcohol scattered on the table. My eyes widened in alarm. I’d known Maddox my whole life, and I’d never seen him drink more than one beer in a single night. He always said that he didn’t like how out of control he felt when he drank too much. Like it dimmed his genius. Well, he hadn’t said that last part, but that was what I thought.
“What are you doing?” I gasped, striding into the apartment.
He lifted a half-empty bottle of tequila in my direction. “What are you doing here?”
“You missed our meeting, Maddox. Remember? Coffee and planning at four o’clock.” I tapped my watch. “It’s four forty-five now. I have a date at seven. What the hell is going on?”
“Go on your date, Jos,” he said, slurring his words. “I’m fine.”
I slammed the door shut hard enough to rattle the walls. “You are not fine. You’re drinking tequila straight.”
“Tastes like Kool-Aid.”
I grimaced. “How much of that have you had?”
He held up the bottle. “It was full when I started. I think.”
“Jesus Christ.”
He staggered to his feet, stumbling into the table and barely catching himself. The bottle slipped out of his hand and landed on the ground. Tequila puddled on the carpet.
“Fuck, Maddox.” I scurried forward on my heels and grabbed the bottle off the ground.
He took it out of my hand and did another shot. “Thanks.”
I yanked it back from him. “Stop. Just stop for a minute.”
He chuckled. “All those times you wanted me to get wasted, and now, you’re mad that I am.”
“This isn’t you.” He reached for the bottle again, but I held it away from him. “Sit. Let me get you some water. You’re going to be sick.”
His hands came around my waist, pulling me toward him. I was so startled that I didn’t even stop him. “That’s not what I want to do with you here.”
I opened and closed my mouth in shock. “Maddox … you’re drunk.”
“So?”
I carefully extracted myself. “And you have a girlfriend.”
“Nope,” he said as he staggered backward and collapsed on the couch. He reached for one of the empty beer cans. “Not anymore.”
My face softened. “What happened?”
He shrugged. “We got into a fight. I broke it off.”
“I’m sorry.”
He snorted. “Are you?”
“Of course, Maddox. My feelings about Amanda aside, you seemed happy.”
“She was paranoid.”
I headed to the kitchen, deposited the bottle, and poured him a large glass of water. “Paranoid how?”
Maddox followed me into the kitchen and grabbed the tequila bottle. I sighed heavily.
“She thought we were hooking up.”
I nearly choked. “What? Why?”
“Because we’d dated before.”
“I didn’t even flirt with you in her presence,” I said as I passed him the water.
He shot me a disbelieving look. “Do you even know what flirting is, Josie? All you do is flirt with everyone.”
“Then, she shouldn’t take it personal,” I argued. But guilt crept into my stomach. I’d thought I was doing a good job of staying away from him, except for work.
“It’s you,” he said, guzzling half the water before setting it back down. “She wasn’t being logical about it.”
“So, she broke up with you because of me?” I asked softly.
He shook his head. “Nope. I broke up with her because I was tired of fucking fighting with her about it. I did nothing wrong. I didn’t deserve to be treated that way when we were only working together. She has trust issues because her last boyfriend cheated on her.”