Kissing Madeline (Dearest #3) (31 page)

- Daren -

I swear to God, I can’t do one thing right this week.

Get it together, asshole. This is football. This is the one thing you can do. Put up or shut up.

Gritting my teeth, I reach back to release the pass, but my throw goes wide, and Quentin shoots me the finger.

Coach has had enough and stalks toward me. “Son, I don’t know what crawled up your ass and died, but I need you to dislodge it and play like this means something.” He shakes his head. “Where’s the guy who played for me in preseason? I want him back. You’re playing hard, and you’re playing tough—and at the end of the day we’re winning—but something ain’t quite right here.” He turns his back to the rest of the guys and lowers his voice. “Is there anything you need to tell me? Did you get arrested last weekend or get a girl knocked up or something?”

I choke on my own spit. “No, sir.”

He gives me a curt nod. “Okay, then. That’s a relief.” His head tilts. “Girl problems?”

My shoulders slump, and like a fucking Buddhist Zen master, he says, “Ask not what she can do for you, but what you need to do for her.” With a stiff pat on the arm, he adds, “And then, once you’ve got that shit straight, have a little fun out here, okay? You’re depressing me.”

Once practice is over and I’m stuck in gridlock traffic, I give in and decide I need some advice. Glancing at the date on my dash, I realize I can’t call Jax because he’s traveling to a game. I know I could call Clementine, but I don’t want to be the douchebag who calls his ex-girlfriend when he needs help with another woman.

So that only leaves one other person, and I haven’t spoken to him in months.

“Daren, my God, it’s good to hear your voice.”

The guilt from not calling him in so long forms a knot in my throat.

“Hi, Dad.”

He sighs. It’s the sound of relief, and I know it’s because I’ve been calling him Mason for the last several years. But I was too hurt to call him my father.

“To what do I owe this wonderful call?”

Fuck, and he has to be nice about it. “I need your advice.”

The last time I called him for help, Clementine was all over the news. Yeah, it takes a major crisis to go there these days. I saw him more in college because my mother nagged me until I gave in, but I’ve had a hard time letting go of the anger. I know he didn’t mean to crush me, but he did, and no apology or amount of money can ease that pain. My guess is that huge Heisman banquet he threw for me was part of his apology, but he should know by now I don’t care about those kind of gifts. But lately, even Maddie has been encouraging me to see him.

My father laughs. “Is this about a woman?”

I roll my eyes. I swear he can read my mind. “Of course.”

He chuckles again. “Well, lay it on me. Your mom and I were about to have dinner, but I’m sure she won’t mind if I take it in the study so we can talk.”

If I weren’t starting to feel like I was losing Maddie, I’d never do this. But one thing is for sure. I can’t lose her. And Mason has stayed married to my mom all these years, even when she was raising someone else’s kid. I figure he must have really loved my mother to marry her after her fiancée took off. She never even heard from the asshole again.

I know. That’s who I should be angry with. My real father. But he died when I was in high school—my senior year, in fact—so I never had a chance to tell him to go to hell. That’s one of the things that made this whole thing worse. Finding out that I had a real father—right after he passed away.

Maddie’s right, though. I need to get over this shit with Mason. He’s always treated me well. I’m not sure why I’m still angry about this. I guess part of it ties into how finding out he wasn’t my real father had a chain reaction in my life that I’m only now recovering from. But I gotta own that shit too.

Shaking my head, I man up and tell him the short version of what’s happening with Maddie, minus the coma-inducing marathon sex.

He hums over the phone. “You gave her a diamond bracelet, and she’s barely spoken to you for the last week? Son, something about that equation doesn’t work for me.” He’s silent for a moment. “What happened the last time you saw her?”

Shit. That feels like a lifetime ago. “Okay, part of that problem was I had just changed my number, and I thought I had given her the new one. And we had our weekly interview yesterday, but she was all business.”

“Well, tell me what happened a week ago. It seems the drama started there, right?”

I nod even though he can’t see me. “I was working with this woman, a financial advisor, on some investments, and Maddie came over. She said hi and that she was heading home to work. And since then, she’s barely returned my calls or texts, which is unusual for her.”

There’s that chuckle again. “Son, what does this financial advisor look like?”

What? “I don’t know. Medium height. Blonde. Wears too much lipstick and her perfume makes me gag. Why?”

“Is she attractive?”

I pause to think about Camille. “I guess. I haven’t really thought about it. I’m not into blondes.”

“What does Maddie think of this woman?”

“She barely knows her. I think she met her one other time. Hell, I barely know Camille.”

“Ahh, you’re still so young. I remember being this clueless.”

“Seriously, you’re not helping here.”

He laughs. “Sorry, son. Okay, tell me what happened the first time she met Camille.”

I roll my shoulders, trying to ease the tightness in those muscles. “We were all at a restaurant. Maddie was there with her roommate Sheri and several of Sheri’s friends for this book club they have. Maddie invited me over.” I scratch my head, wondering how the hell this means anything. “I sat opposite Maddie and next to Camille because that was the only seat available, and I signed autographs for the girls.”

“And?”

And what?

I blow out a breath. “I looked up, and suddenly Maddie was gone. My buddy Quentin told me she left. So I tracked her down, and I guess you could say we’ve been together ever since.”

I’m still waiting for the punchline, waiting for all of this to make sense.

And then I remember the conversation Maddie had in the back hallway by the bathroom. I had asked her if she was jealous, and even though she denied it, I knew she was lying.

“Oh, God. She hates Camille, doesn’t she?”

“My guess is yes, she’s not her biggest fan.”

“And Camille was at my house when she came over the day after I gave her the bracelet. Maddie said she wanted to thank me for something, but she couldn’t say anything specific because no one is supposed to know we’re dating.”

“Sounds like you know what to do.”

I rub my forehead and try to finish driving home without getting in an accident. “What would that be, Dad? What would you do?”

“Grovel. It’s the only way to go. As long as you’re being honest with her, I’m sure everything will work out.”

My lips twist at the irony here. He’s telling me to be honest.

Long after we get off the phone, I’m still mulling over his words. It takes me a good hour to stop being pissed at him all over again. And then his advice to be honest sinks in.

I know I haven’t told Maddie everything, but the crazy shit is just getting crazier, and I don’t want to freak her out. But maybe she senses I’m not telling her the whole story.

I have nothing to hide. I haven’t done anything wrong, but I want to protect her, protect us. And I hope I haven’t done just the opposite.

But with the bachelor contest this weekend, I know I don’t have a lot of time to make this right. The last thing I want is to do this event with all of this awkwardness between us, so I head for her place resolved to tell her everything.

Except when I get to her door, no one is home.

And she doesn’t call me back.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

- Daren -

When I look around the hotel’s grand ballroom, a sea of tuxedos and shimmery dresses greets me. The bachelor contest might sound like a silly affair, but there are some big fundraisers in attendance. Having grown up coming to these kinds of galas trained me to spot the heavy hitters. If I weren't on a mission, I'd be slapping their backs, trying to get their donation dollars to go to St. Martin's.

It takes me a few minutes, but I finally spot Maddie. Stunning in a floor-length red ball gown, she damn near floats across the floor. Holy shit. This girl makes me lose my mind, and she doesn’t even know it.

Her hair is shorter, drifting just below her shoulders, and my stomach sinks. She’s making changes. Don’t girls always talk about cutting their hair? And I’m the asshole she didn’t tell, the idiot who didn’t know her birthday, the douchewad who protects a piece of his heart because he doesn't want to get hurt.

That realization stops me in my tracks. I’ve never told her I love her. I didn’t want to move too fast and freak her out or go out on a limb and get pummeled.

Christ, I
am
an idiot.

As I’m walking up to her, one of the other contestants, a guy who plays for the Red Sox, places his hand on her lower back and whispers in her ear. She smiles shyly and pulls back, shaking her head.

What the fuck is that about?

He’s looking at her like he wants her for breakfast. No fucking way, asshole. Not happening.

I stalk up to them. When her eyes meet mine, they cool. “Daren.” That’s it. She says my name, and the lack of emotion behind it kills me just a little bit.

The idiot next to her returns his hand to her back, and fury coils in my stomach and makes its way through my chest.

“Maddie,” I say. “Can I talk to you a second?”

Her lips twitch. After a moment, she starts to nod yes, but an announcer tells everyone to grab their seats.

“I have to go, Daren. Maybe we can talk afterward.” Then she turns on her heel and heads for the front of the room.

Idiot boy leans toward me. “Holy shit, she’s hot. I call dibs on fucking her.”

My jaw tightens so much it aches. “You ever talk about her like that, and I will launch that sorry-ass throwing arm through that wall over there.”

He rears back and holds up his hands. “Kidding, man. Kidding.”

Blowing out a long breath, I look for my table.

I need a break. I need the stars to align in my favor tonight, and I have to make this right. There is no way in hell I’m letting my pride fuck this up. I’m going to lock her in at my place and tell her all the crazy shit that’s been going on, and she might be pissed that I haven’t told her, but it’s better than this. Because I know for a fact that I’ll lose her if we don’t talk this through.

When I spot my table, I curse under my breath.
Fuck you, stars.
Because who am I sitting next to? Camille.

Goddamn it.

“Daren!” she squeals too loudly. Gone is the financial planner. Someone has replaced her with a fangirl, because she jumps up and all of her parts jiggle in her overly snug dress. A second later she hugs me and presses herself all over me.
No, no, no.

I give her a quick pat on the back, nearly gagging on her perfume, and step back. When I look up, Maddie is staring daggers at us from the podium.

Running my hand through my hair, I drag my seat farther away while I glance around, hoping to find a way to move somewhere else without offending Camille. Her firm is donating so much money that my whole table is filled with her coworkers.

I sit and wave down a waiter for a Scotch. I’ve never drunk hard liquor during the season, but these are special circumstances. And tonight I need a fucking drink.

After welcoming everyone, Maddie says, “I have to give a special shout out to my co-worker Nicole Stanton, who can’t be with us this evening. She came down with the flu and sounds terrible.” She holds up her phone. “But I’ve been receiving hate mail from her for the last hour for stealing her gig, so at least we know she’s alive.”

Everyone chuckles, and she smiles sweetly at the crowd. “I guess I have my hands full tonight. I mean, I just get the worst jobs. Interviewing Boston’s sexiest bachelors all night. Jeez. I need a raise.”

People laugh, and my heart is seizing up from an overdose of her charm.

She’s so effortless up there. Sweet and charismatic. Funny and flirtatious. I’ve seen her on the news, and I’ve gotten to know her easy-going style during our interviews, but to watch her up there, without a single notecard or teleprompter, she’s so fucking impressive. My chest swells with pride.

Maddie introduces every bachelor, and they banter back and forth up there. I know she has to hype the guys, but each time she smiles adoringly at them, my heart aches a little.

After each introduction, a special segment featuring the bachelor’s charity is shown on the screen behind them. At several points in the evening, people have tears in their eyes from her stories.