Kissing Madeline (Dearest #3) (30 page)

During my mid-morning break the next day, I put on a happy face and call him. We chat for a while, and he tells me about his evening out with the guys and mentions everyone who was there. It matches what I saw, and I feel like shit that my feelings could still be so fucked up despite his willingness to tell me everything.

I don’t mention my birthday. It seems a little pathetic, so I decide it’s not important.

Really, it isn’t his fault he didn’t know. I hadn’t thought about it until my friends broke out the cake. But for some reason, this doesn’t make me feel any better. Between the distance created by our schedules and my stupid birthday fiasco, my heart feels like it’s in tatters.

Deep down, I know the answer, why I’m such a train wreck right now. My birthday has always been rough since I lost my dad. My uncle Patrick always tried to make it special, but it never took the emptiness away. He left me a message last night, too, telling me we needed to hang out soon so he could give me my presents.

I wipe away a few stray tears. I need to get a grip. Be strong. Or get out of this relationship because this can’t be healthy. I feel like a crazy person.

But the idea of calling it quits when Daren has done nothing wrong makes me want to slap myself. He’s a good man. A great friend. A fantastic lover. I would be certifiable to end this.

By the following Friday, I’m starting to finally feel a little less insane. I’m curled up on the couch with a cozy sweater, a glass of wine, and Clementine’s new book, hoping to finally get a little time to unwind when the doorbell rings.

I open it to find Daren with two dozen long-stemmed roses in one hand and a rectangular box wrapped in silver paper in the other.

“Hey. What’s the occasion?”

“Maddie, I’m so sorry I missed your birthday. Why didn’t you tell me? I feel like such a jackass. Sheri texted me this morning, asking me to check on you since she's been gone so long, and she mentioned feeling bad about missing your birthday.”

He sets the flowers and gift down and hugs me, and I throw my arms around his neck and close my eyes. His large hands run up and down my back, and before I realize what’s happening, tears are streaming down my cheeks.

I try to sniffle quietly, and he stills. “Aww, babe. I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?”

I shake my head. “No.” God, why can’t I stop crying?

“I am. I know I am. Fuck.” He squeezes me tighter. “Can you stay over tonight? I feel like I haven’t seen you in months, and it’s tripping me out.”

Nodding, I start to wipe the tears when he moves my hands. He holds my face gently and wipes my cheeks with his thumbs. “Maddie, I’m good at football, but let me tell you right now that I suck at relationships. I never say the right thing. I can’t even get your birthday right.”

“It’s okay. I just feel so much distance from you. It has me wondering if I did something wrong.”

“God, no. You’re perfect. I’m the fuckup.”

He leans down to brush his lips against mine, and all the anxiousness I’ve been feeling for the last several weeks starts to melt away as he presses my body into his.

What starts as a gentle kiss turns frenzied a minute later. I’m gripping his shoulders, and he’s pulling on my hair to kiss me deeper. I reach for his belt buckle, and he tugs at my shirt, and we’re a tangle of clothes and limbs, desperate to get closer.

By the time we’re in my bed, I’m so exhausted, I can barely form a sentence. But literally the second we’re done, Daren falls asleep, still nestled inside me.

And wow, the boy is a deep sleeper. I somehow manage to roll him off so I can clean up in the bathroom. When I curl up next to him a few minutes later, he murmurs my name and says he’s sorry.

The next day, he’s out the door by eight a.m. I have to go into the studio later, so I try to enjoy the rare morning to sleep in. But something keeps nagging at me.

As much as I loved sleeping with Daren, a part of me is still unnerved. He never told me what’s bothering him. Because something obviously is.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

- Maddie -

The diamond tennis bracelet glimmers in the mid-morning sun. It’s beautiful. Delicate and sophisticated.

I can’t believe he bought this for me and didn’t even ask me to open it last night. We got so carried away, I hadn’t thought about it until I got up to get some coffee this morning.

Grabbing my cell to call him, I wait for his line to ring, only to hear that the line has been disconnected.

Ugh. Did he have to change his number again? I thought the prank porn had stopped, but maybe I’m wrong. How the hell is someone getting his number time and time again?

Maybe I can duck out of work early today and pop in to see him.

All day, I sit in the editing booth and finish up a follow-up to the porn segment I’ve been working on. My stories have been running for the last two months, but with the vote coming up next week, this is my last shot to make a difference. It’s been a challenge to track down people who are willing to talk, but I think what I have is compelling.

I’m fine-tuning some last-minute video of a porn star named Ella. She can’t be older than eighteen, and she already has several chart-topping videos.

Her small voice wavers when she talks. “This isn’t the life I wanted for myself, but at least I make enough to pay my way through college. I’m not doing drugs. I don’t drink.” She toys with a frayed edge of her faded tank top. “I don’t plan to do this forever, but I didn’t have many options when I was kicked out of my house last year.”

Ella’s gotten a GED, and she attends community college classes part-time.

“If this law gets passed, I’m afraid it’ll give the filmmakers a reason to not require everyone to get tested for STDs. It’ll push everything underground where it goes unregulated.” She shifts in her seat and her brown hair tumbles over her shoulder.

I ask her if she’ll stop participating in these films if the law is passed and the shoots get riskier.

“I don’t think I have a choice. I have bills to pay.” She blows out a frustrated breath. “This is all so ironic. Men hate wearing condoms, except the men on the city council want the guys in these films to wear condoms, which in turn means people won’t watch because they’re not turned on when they see the plastic.”

People can say what they want to about her, but I think she’s brave to be standing up for this cause. I hope when viewers watch the segment, they hear her story and don’t simply objectify her. Because this girl is so much more than a pretty face and a young body.

What you won’t hear in my piece is the fact she’s raising her little sister, a detail she doesn’t want made public in case social services take her away. But since their mother is a drug addict, Ella doesn’t know what else to do to keep her safe.

“She’s hot,” someone whispers in my ear.

I nearly fall out of my chair to find Brad behind me.

“Jesus.” My heart is racing. “You scared the crap out of me.”

He snickers. “Sorry, Maddie. I brought you something.” He hands me my favorite iced coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts.

“Tha… Thanks.” I give him a weak smile, too freaked out to put any effort into it.

He launches into his plans for the weekend even though I didn’t ask. He’s grinning and talking away.

“I’m glad to see you in such a good mood. You’ve looked kind of bummed out lately.”

He shrugs and leans against the cubicle wall, ignoring my need for personal space. I push back in my chair to create some room between us.

“Listen, I’d love to talk some more, Brad, but I’m on a really big deadline. If this goes well, I might have a shot at doing more primetime coverage, which is where all the serious news gets done. It sure as hell would beat doing bachelor contests.”

He shakes his head. “That has to be insulting to a woman like you. Between that and the football bullshit, it’s a wonder you have any time on your hands to do this.” He motions toward my screen. “But it’s probably also why your laptop has been crashing so hard lately.” He tsks, a strangely snide expression on his face. “Gotta lay off the hardcore porn sites, Maddie. They’re full of viruses. It took me an hour to fix your operating system this morning.”

“What?” My head rears back. “What are you talking about? What do you mean hardcore porn sites?”

“Sweetheart, your search history doesn’t lie.”

I feel my cheeks burn. But I will myself to stay calm. I’m a grown woman, and I’m just doing my job. “Then maybe you should check my history a little more carefully because everything I searched is relevant to my assignment. Ask Roger.”

“Maddie, hey, I’m sorry. Listen, I was just kidding.”

Ignoring him, I turn back to the editing booth and wait for him to leave. When the sound of his footsteps fade away, I take the drink he just brought me and toss it in the trash. Asshole.

My day gets worse when I walk into my tiny office to find my ex-boyfriend talking to Nicole.

“Hey, hot stuff. How are you?” Jacob asks, looking delighted to see me.

What the hell is going on this afternoon?

Nicole looks back and forth between the two of us. “
That’s
who you’ve been boning the last few months?”

“What?” Am I trapped in the Twilight Zone right now? “No, I am not
boning
Jacob.”

I take a closer look at my ex. He seems bigger, brawnier, but he’s starting to look like a caricature of himself with a big body and a little head. Well, two little heads.

“You’re seeing someone?” he asks, appearing hurt.

“Like you care. Seriously, who I see is none of your business.” I start to pack my bag. “What are you doing here?”

“Nicole had a few questions for me, so I thought I’d drop by and answer them in person.”

I turn back to them and roll my eyes. “Okay, Nicole, I know we’ve never been the best of friends, but off the record, I dated Jacob for about a year. We broke up in May when I found him in bed with another woman. Feel free to sleep with him. I am being a hundred percent honest when I say I really don’t give a shit if you do or not. However, you should know that if the asshole says you’re exclusive, he’s lying.”

He gets a pained look in his eyes, like he might actually be hurt by what I said, which pisses me off more. He has no right to be hurt.

Nicole starts laughing, and I grab my bag and stalk out of my office.

I’m so looking forward to seeing Daren, to washing off this horrible day, but when I get to his place, he’s not alone.

He’s sitting at the kitchen table with financial documents spread across from one side to the other. And Camille, Sheri’s friend, is sitting next to him, laughing. As I walk in, she grabs his arm and smiles up at him but addresses me.

“Hey, Maddie.” Her forehead wrinkles. “That’s your name, right?”

Ahh. The girl gloves come off early.
Bring it, bitch.

She leans toward Daren to grab a piece of paper, which is really just an excuse to press her boobs into his arm. He doesn’t even notice. Typical. Men can be so clueless sometimes.

“Hey, Maddie.” His eyes finally swing up to mine. “Camille is offering to do the investments for the homeless shelter pro bono. She’s also helping me out with some financial issues I need to clear up.”

I bet she is.

Camille looks between us like she’s confused why he’s explaining that to me. Inside, I'm screaming,
Because I'm his girlfriend!

Just then, Sheri walks down the hall from the bathroom. “Holy shit, Maddie! I haven’t seen you in ten years!” She rushes toward me and leaps up for a hug, nearly knocking me over.

She’s been in New York for the last several weeks to work on a new film with her dad.

“You’ll be happy to know your condo is still in one piece,” I joke. “What are you guys up to?” I look toward Camille, who has returned to basking in Daren’s attention.

Sheri shakes my arm like we’re twelve. “We’re about to head out for our book club, but she needed to pop by to see Daren first. You should join us out tonight.”

Not happening.

“I’d love to, but I have so much work to do. I just wanted to swing by and thank Daren for something, but I can see he’s busy. I’ll catch you guys later.”

I know Camille doesn't mean anything to Daren. Just because I don't trust her doesn't mean I don't trust him. But I'm so fucking tired of having to hide my relationship with Daren. I'm so fucking tired of denying that there's anything between us. Of women like Camille thinking it's okay to make the moves on Daren when I can't even enjoy an evening out with him.

Before anyone can respond, I’m gone, eager to take a hot bath, blast Nirvana, and drown my sorrows in something alcoholic.

When I get to my room, I turn off my ringer, strip out of my clothes and head for the tub where I ignore the world. Because right now, the world can kiss my ass.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE