“How’d you get in here?” I say suspiciously. I know Clara’s class schedule and she has been gone for hours.
“Spare key,” says Maddox sheepishly, pulling it out of his pants pocket and placing it on the coffee table. “The Millers always hid one in a flowerpot by the door, and I figured Clara would do the same.”
I vaguely remember Clara saying something about a spare key in case either of us ever misplaced ours. I never lose my keys, or anything, really, so I must have disregarded it and forgotten.
Maddox moves closer to me and I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. I take a deep breath to steady myself; the sight of him is intoxicating. This feels a little surreal, like a dream. How many times have I fantasized about this exact scenario? In my daydreams, Maddox shows up, professes his undying love for me, and whisks me away for passionate, torrid sex.
But dreams aren’t reality, and surely that’s not what he’s here for. So, what does he want?
The gears in my brain turn, and I figure he must be here to persuade me not to tell Clara about what happened between us at the sex club. Of course, I haven’t told her and never would, so he’s wasting his time. Even though I’ve had a crush on Maddox for as long as I can remember, I’ve never told Clara. I suspect she probably has some idea. She’s very perceptive and knows me so well, it’s hard to believe she hasn’t picked up on my feelings. She’s never brought it up, though, and I’d be mortified to discuss it with her, so it just remains unspoken between us. It could also be that I’m just paranoid and she really has no idea how I really feel.
“Well, what if Clara walked through the door instead of me?” I ask.
“I had a backup plan for that,” Maddox assures me, grinning mischievously. My knees weaken at his smile.
I look away and try to collect myself.
“I suppose you’re here to ask me if I told Clara about what happened at the club. Don’t worry, I haven’t said anything and I’m not planning to. It was obviously a mistake and I want to forget about it as much as you do.”
Maddox’s smile vanishes and is quickly replaced with a frown.
“Oh, I don’t think I could forget about it, even if I wanted to,” he says softly, staring into my eyes and moving even closer.
What is he saying? Is this really happening? Am I dreaming?
I try to think of how to reply but I’m completely speechless.
Maddox sees my confusion and starts talking quickly.
“I’m so sorry for how I acted at the club. I didn’t know it was you until I turned the lights on, and then I was just so surprised and didn’t know how to handle it. Then at Thanksgiving, I didn’t expect to see you; I didn’t know how you felt about what happened or if you’d told anyone.”
“And what if I had?” I say defiantly, putting my hands on my hips and jutting my chin forward. “I can tell anybody I want, Maddox. Just because you feel regretful or ashamed doesn’t mean I have to feel that way too!”
“That’s just the thing,” Maddox says quietly, his voice so velvety and smooth it’s hypnotic. “I don’t regret it at all.”
My eyes search his for a moment, trying to understand what he’s saying. He doesn’t regret it? Then why has he been acting so weird?
Before I know what’s happening, Maddox closes what little space between us is left, cups my chin with one hand, and moves his lips to meet mine.
I feel his other hand wrap around my waist, pressing me against him like he did at the club. His scent, his mouth, these feelings are almost too much to bear. I feel drunk even though I haven’t had a sip of alcohol.
We kiss and kiss, and it’s just like it was at the club. Actually, it’s better, because this time I know it’s Maddox and he is choosing to kiss me. We aren’t just random strangers in a club to each other. Maddox is finally seeing me, just like I’ve always wanted.
He gently strokes my hair, moaning as our kiss intensifies. I feel a lurch in my stomach and a heat between my legs. I haven’t felt pure desire like this in, well, maybe ever.
Without thinking, I push Maddox backward toward the sofa. He falls into the seat, then looks up at me, standing before him. His pupils are dilated with lust, making his dark eyes appear even darker.
I want this man so badly.
I place one knee on each side of him, straddling his lap. We’re fully clothed but I can feel his erection straining against his jeans. I grind my denim-clad crotch against it, making both of us gasp with excitement. Maddox tenderly lifts my shirt off and tosses it aside, revealing my plain cotton bra. He cups my breasts reverently, then trails kisses down my stomach.
I can’t believe this is happening. I keep my eyes closed, forcing myself to be present and let my body enjoy this instead of overthinking everything like I normally do.
After a few moments, Maddox lifts me off his lap with his large, strong hands and lays me down on the couch. Panting, he positions himself on top of me, kissing me deeply again while moving his hands down to my waistband.
Just as he unbuttons my pants, an electronic jingle pulls me out of my lustful trance.
Dammit.
It’s my phone, shoved in one of the pockets of my backpack.
The moment is broken, and I shove Maddox off me, scrambling for my phone. It’s the alarm I set to remind myself to get to work on time.
And that’s when I’m hit with the realization of just how wrong this scenario is.
This is Maddox, my best friend’s older brother and a totally inappropriate choice. What would Clara think? Would she feel betrayed or deceived? How could I do this to her?
It’s also weird as hell since I’ve known Maddox for so long, yet he has never, ever shown any interest in me. So, what is he doing, showing up like this, barging into the apartment like he owns the place? Did he just assume I would be thrilled to see him? Did he expect us to hook up?
Suddenly, I feel angry with him. How dare he turn up uninvited, disrupting my life and looking for a make-out session, or more? Who does he think he is?
Most importantly, this is wrong because I have to leave for work. Now, since I’ve missed my carefully scheduled window of opportunity to grab a snack and some much-needed caffeine, I’m either going to be late for work or I’ll just have to go without and be cranky and tired during my shift.
This is exactly why I swore off boys and partying after my freshman year. I knew that if I wanted to make something of my life and really help people, I had to buckle down and work hard. I’ve been so good for the past three years, just focusing on work and school without allowing any distractions.
And as much as I’m attracted to Maddox, and although I’ve longed for him to touch me like this for years, the fact is that he’s exactly the type of distraction I can’t afford.
I think about the case I’m working on, the woman with the crooked spine who can’t work to feed her children now because of a drunk driver. I’m supposed to be getting ready to go do whatever I can to help her, not making out with a boy.
I turn to Maddox with my phone in my hand, the alarm still sounding as all these thoughts race through my head. He looks disheveled and breathless.
“I have to go,” I say flatly, grabbing my shirt off the floor and quickly pulling it back over my head. Now that the heat of the moment has passed, I feel embarrassed to be standing here before him half-dressed.