Fuck. I couldn't possibly hold my grudge against him much longer. He was beating down my defenses just as surely as Kody had the day before.
"Tell me..." I paused to think—something that was harder to do than it should have been, but what could I say? I wasn't dick drunk. I was just... Max Steele drunk. "Tell me something real. Something true." Tell me I'm not imagining this intense connection between us. Tell me you didn't lie to me for sex and nothing more. Tell me you care...
He didn't immediately respond. His fingers threaded into my hair, tangling around the strands at the roots as he tipped my face back and locked eyes with me once more.
"The truth, Madison Kate," he murmured, "is that Riot Night wasn't the first time we met."
18
Steele's words made my heart pound painfully hard, and my mouth went dry with dread.
"What did you just say?" I breathed.
The way his fingers were tangled in my hair, I couldn't run away. I couldn't even break eye contact with him. So I couldn't pretend not to see the raw emotion in his eyes as he spoke.
"Riot Night wasn't the first time we met, and it sure as hell wasn't the first time I started falling for you." His voice was rough, and it made my breath hitch as I tried to inhale deeply.
I shook my head—as much as I could in his grip—and frowned in confusion. "I don't understand. When have we met? Why wouldn't I remember that?"
His lopsided smile was gentle but pained. "It was about six months before your mom died. We think the trauma messed with your memory, or maybe something happened afterward when your dad kept sending you to therapy. Whatever it was, it seems like you've just erased these patches of time from your memory. But... I remember."
A hollow ache filled my chest, sorrow for those lost moments. I'd met Steele before? Why couldn't I remember that? I wanted to. So damn badly.
"Tell me everything," I whispered, desperate. "I want to know."
He studied me a moment longer, then released his grip on my hair like he'd reassured himself I wasn't going to flip my lid and kick him out in the street for withholding this information so long. But it wasn't his fault I couldn't remember, and I wasn’t entitled to his memories.
"There's not a whole lot to tell," he admitted, trailing his fingers through my hair, then bringing his arms around my waist once more. We were facing one another on my couch, but we could have been on the freaking moon for how focused I was on his face. "Your dad had gone away on some business trip, and your mom decided she wanted to spend those three weeks with Zane. She didn't want your dad to find out, though, so instead of leaving you in the care of your housekeeper, she brought you with her."
I frowned. "Brought me with her where?"
Steele grimaced. "Reaper headquarters."
My brows shot up. That seemed like a really bad place to bring an eleven-year-old.
"Anyway, when Damien found you—this mouthy, fearless, little blonde girl—hustling one of his guys at pool, he flipped out. He had some huge argument with Zane, and then next thing we knew, you were ours." I made a sound of surprise, and Steele quickly shook his head. "Not like that. We were your babysitters for three weeks."
"We?" I repeated, giving him a suspicious look.
He wrinkled his nose. "Yeah. Me and Arch. Kody was looking after his grandma at the time, down in Texas."
I blinked at him like an owl. He and Archer had babysat me for three weeks, and I had zero recollection.
Licking my lips, I searched for some kind of cohesive thought pattern within the scattered mess of info in my brain. "So... what happened?"
Steele shrugged. "Not much. Your mom told everyone she'd taken you on vacation to see her parents, then she and Zane shacked up for three weeks. You, me, and Arch just hung out and played a shitload of video games. We had fun." His expression was nostalgic but tainted with sadness.
I frowned. "But something happened, didn't it? Something that Archer has been hating me over for eight fucking years."
Steele parted his lips to answer, but my phone started ringing on the kitchen counter. I glanced over at it, scowling and mentally willing it to shut the fuck up.
"Whoever it is, they can call back," I grumbled. The ringing stopped, then immediately started up again.
I wanted to ignore it and hear the rest of Steele's story—our story—but a small thread of worry wove through me. What if it was important? Archer had said Bree was in danger.
"Fuck it," I hissed when my phone started ringing for the third time. I stood up and hurried over to answer it before the call could cut out again. I hesitated a second with my thumb over the green "answer call" button, noticing it was Scott. But why call three times in a row if it wasn't important?
"Scott, what's wrong?" I demanded, bringing the phone to my ear. Steele stood from the couch, flashing me a whole lot of leg from the split in my bathrobe as he crossed the room. I could barely even concentrate on Scott's reply as Steele leaned against the counter beside me.
"...on my way over," Scott was saying when I tuned back in.
I startled. "Wait, what? On your way here?"
"Yes, Maddie. That's what I just said. Are you even listening?" Scott made it sound like he was joking, but there was an edge of irritation to his voice.
I rolled my eyes and bit back a sigh. "Sorry, I was just… busy. Now isn't really a good time, Scott. I'll see you Monday, okay?" I made my way over to my closet-sized laundry while I spoke. Steele's clothes were dry, so I pulled them out.
"It's no trouble, I'm almost there. I grabbed your favorite ice cream too!" Scott sounded so enthusiastic, but I just wanted to tell him to fuck right off. Except... I'd made a promise to myself the day I arrived in Aspen that I'd make more of an effort with friends. I couldn't stay so damn isolated all the time, so involved with Archer and his boys. I needed my own support network, and Scott was a part of that.
Or, he would be if he could get it through his thick skull that we would never be more than friends.
I stifled a sigh as I handed Steele his clothes, and he gave me a curious brow raise. As badly as I wanted to finish that conversation with him, it was probably for the best that we’d been interrupted. Every minute I spent with him, my resolve weakened, my anger faded, and my cursed forgiveness crept in. Besides, every time the secrets involved Archer I really did want to hear it from him firsthand.
"Okay, sure," I found myself mumbling to Scott on the phone. "I'll see you soon then." I ended the call and gave Steele a shrug. "You should probably go, anyway, make sure Kody and Archer haven't been arrested with a dead body in the trunk of their car."
Steele quirked a grin, taking his clothes through to my bedroom to get dressed. "If they have, they can get themselves out of that mess faster than it'd take to call me for help. Shadow Grove cops aren't stupid; they know who really runs this town."
He dressed and came back out in seconds.
"Oh yeah?" I commented, regarding him with a shrewd look. "And I guess that's you three, then?"