“Sore as shit. But I’ll be fine.” I adjust the peas and wince. “I’m assuming Scarlet called.”
Max nods. “How’s she doing? What the fuck happened?”
“She seems okay. I don’t know if it’s hit her yet. That guy was behind her. He wasn’t going for the money or for Cade’s office. He was behind her. I’ve never been so fucking glad to forget my phone in my life.”
“Have the police said anything about any leads yet?”
“Not yet. But I’m going to call them tomorrow.”
“Pretty sure Scarlet’s already given them hell,” Max huffs before he motions toward the TV. “Turn it up.”
They’re interviewing Spider Ramirez. This fuckhead has wanted my title for two goddamned years. He hasn’t earned the fight, but that hasn’t stopped him from talking shit about me and Crucible every chance he’s gotten.
Asshole.
Max leans against the back of the couch. “You gonna give in and fight this little shit after you win next week?”
“Fuck him. He’s gotta earn it.”
I put in my time. He’s gotta do the same.
Even with a bum knee, I’m not worried about winning next week’s fight.
You don’t train like I do year-fucking-round and have a doubt.
My thoughts stop on a dime when the sweet scent of honey and vanilla wafts into the room. Her skin always smells like honey and vanilla. Even after she’s finished sweating through a hot yoga class, Madison Dixon smells delicious.
And like a man searching for an oasis in the desert, she draws me in. I want to taste her skin. Her lips. Her fucking cunt to see if she’s as sweet as she smells.
It takes a few more minutes before she finally walks back into the room and takes my breath away. She drops down on the couch and lets Cinder curl around her. “Hey, baby,” she purrs at the damn cat, and that voice . . . fuck me.
When she stands up with the black and white furball in her arms, Daphne hugs her and whispers something that makes Maddie blush.
Max grips my shoulder. “I think that’s my cue. Call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks, man.”
Maddie walks my brother and sister-in-law to the door and locks it behind them, then joins me on the couch.
Close, but not touching.
Because Maddie never touches.
Not unless I initiate it.
There’s a story there.
One I’ve never asked about. But I will . . . eventually.
Her flawless skin has a warm pink glow from her shower, and her long hair is damp and hanging down her back. An old Philly Kings t-shirt is slipping off one bare shoulder and hangs down to her knees, covering the top half of her bare legs, and fuck me . . . she’s got a pair of socks that look like they’re made from a sweater pulled up to her knees. I’ve got no clue why that’s so sexy. But my new goal in life might be to fuck her with those socks on.
Goddamn, I’m an asshole.
She’s fucking perfect, and I’m fucking screwed.
I run my hand over my face and remind myself of Cade’s rules.
No drama.
No booze.
No women.
Two more weeks of camp before the fight.
“So,” she hesitates and tucks her legs up underneath herself. “Do you get the Hallmark channel here, King?”
Fuck me. It’s going to be a long night.
MADDIE
Hudson has four bedrooms upstairs, besides the master. I walked by each one on my way to the shower, so I knew they were there before I got comfortable on the couch last night. I also knew I should have excused myself and gone to bed in one of them when my eyes got heavy after the first half of Harry Potter and The Sorcerer’s Stone. Apparently, Hudson gets every channel except the Hallmark channel. But Harry Potter is my favorite movie franchise, so I ignored my body begging me for a bed and my brain telling me I should probably have sat on the opposite end of the sectional, far away from the ridiculously sexy man I was here to help. Luckily, even I knew that was ridiculous, and I convinced myself to stay right where I was. I could go to bed after Harry, Hermione, and Ron saved the day.
Only I never made it to that scene.
The last thing I remember was Hudson tugging a big cream blanket from the back of the couch and forcing me to share the softest blanket I’d ever snuggled under with him. I thought about saying no. I considered going to bed, like a coward with her tail between her legs. Then Cinder curled up between the two of us and surprised me when she rubbed up against the man who causes butterflies to take flight in my belly.
He ran his hand down her back, and to my complete surprise, she let him.
Traitor.
I was jealous of the cat.
Friend, Madison. He’s a friend. That mantra played over and over in my mind while I overanalyzed the space between us. It wasn’t like I was staying in the family room. He was planning on sleeping on the couch . . . I wasn’t.
What do they say about the best laid plans?
Stupid plans.
Those beautiful windows I loved yesterday really suck when the sun shines blindingly through them first thing in the morning. Definitely more effective than any alarm clock I’ve ever set. But once the light wakes me up, it only takes seconds to realize where I slept last night. Because right now, my head isn’t resting on a soft pillow. Nope. It’s resting on a hard body.
I scrunch my eyes closed tightly, not ready to face the humiliation of admitting that not only did I fall asleep, but I also managed to rest my freaking face against Hudson’s thigh.
I peak quickly through my lids, then slam them shut again.
Yup. Right next to his . . . Ohmygod . . .
Hudson is completely reclined, sleeping on his back with his arms tucked behind his head, and I’m practically molesting him with my face inches from his dick. Inches.
I never even sleep through the night. Daphne used to tease me about it in college. I’m a ridiculously light sleeper. Constantly moving while growing up did that to me. Always sharing a room with new people. Never trusting anyone. I hear everything.
How . . .? How . . .? How did I let this happen?
“You’re thinking really hard down there, Mads. Stop. It’s too early for that shit.” Humiliation burns my skin while Hudson’s raspy, sleepy voice puts a halt to my spiraling thoughts. He shifts beneath me, and I thank God I’m at least not lying on his hurt leg, as his big palm runs over my hair and down my back.
Amazingly, I resist the urge to jerk away and instead push up slowly, like I’m not a psychopath who hates to be touched. Because for some reason, I don’t hate it when he does it. His warm palm settles on my back, and I sit up. “Sorry. I meant to go to bed last night. I can’t believe . . .”
“Maddie, relax.” Hudson’s dark eyes soften as they search my face. “It’s not a big deal.” Yeah, to him I guess it wouldn’t be. This man has probably slept with more women than I’ll know in a lifetime.
“Of course.” I shake off that horrific thought and the stabby urges that come with it and stand, only to be stopped when Hudson grabs my hand. My eyes snap to his fingers against my skin, and he drops it immediately.
“I was just gonna say thank you for your help last night.”
“No problem.” At least none I’m going to tell him about. “Are you hungry? I can make you breakfast.” I know the words spilling from my lips are rushed and shaky, but there’s nothing I can do to control them.