Kissing Madeline (Dearest #3) (7 page)

Maddie’s brow furrows. “I don’t understand.” She turns her back to me and lowers her voice. “Spencer made such a big deal about this when I tried to talk him into letting me back on the parking lot story.”

“Well, maybe I made him a better offer. One he couldn’t refuse.” Nicole bats her eyelashes and plasters a fake smile on her face.

Maddie sucks in a breath, and her coworker’s smile widens. A silence stretches between them a moment before Maddie pushes her shoulders back. “Right.” She turns to me, her lips a tight line. “Sorry for the confusion, Daren. You’re in good hands, though. Nicole is a great sports reporter.” Despite what just went down between these two girls, Maddie sounds sincere in her praise of Nicole.

Maddie starts to walk away but stops when I call out her name. I take a step toward her. “It’s Quentin’s birthday, so I’m throwing a party tomorrow night. Why don’t you come?”

Her brow tightens again. “I probably have to work late, so I don’t know if—”

“We’d love to come,” Nicole chirps as she hooks her arm through Maddie’s. “Thanks for the invite.” She turns to Maddie, who looks down at their linked arms. “Don’t you usually get off at seven? That’s not so late.” She doesn’t wait for Maddie to respond. “We should get Daren’s phone number and address.”

Nicole pulls out her cell and the look of exasperation on Maddie’s face is priceless, so I chime in. “Maddie knows where I live, and I’m pretty sure she knows how to get in touch with me.” Because no way am I giving out my number to this other girl.

Maddie nods slowly, a resigned expression in her eyes. “Sure. See you this weekend.” Then she turns and walks away.

CHAPTER NINE

- Maddie -

It’s been a long day. I can’t believe I agreed to go to Daren’s party tonight.

Stretching, I glance over to Nicole, who is reviewing footage a few feet away in one of the editing booths. The face that stares back on her screen immediately sets my teeth on edge. Jacob. In all of his glory.

Beaming in the ring after his victory last weekend against another local contender, he’s surrounded by his coach and several girls. After he wraps up his interview, the camera keeps rolling as he steps back and tongues up two buxom blondes, one right after the other.

Something akin to rage shoots through my veins. That jerkoff calls me every week and leaves messages asking me to give our relationship another chance while he’s obviously banging two girls at a time.

I stare long and hard, wondering why I’ve been an unholy wreck this summer when my ex is obviously having the time of his life. My jaw clenches. I’ve sworn off men, hoping this approach would help me piece my life back together.

But right now, I feel stupid. Because those girls might just be one-night stands, but I swear there’s more passion in those kisses than he and I ever had. And maybe that was the problem all along.

“He’s so hot.” Nicole purrs to herself as she splices out the full-on makeout session. I guess tongue is too hot for mid-day news.

“If you like the all brawn, no brains type.”

She whirls around, a smirk on her lips. Shrugging, she motions toward my ex, whom she obviously doesn’t know I dated. “I like the pretty face, big dick types.”

I don’t have the heart to tell her he’d disappoint her.

“We still on for tonight?” she asks as though I have a choice in the matter.

Jacob smiles on the screen behind her, taunting me. “Can’t wait.”

* * *

Exhaustion sinks me deeper into my bed as I listen to the sound of the bass through the walls. The party next door has been in full swing since I got home half an hour ago.

A sudden slap to my ass jerks me out of my near-comatose state. “What the hell, Sheri?”

“I’m heading out to my dirty book club, and I don’t want to see you when I get back.” Her eyebrow pops up.

I shake my head. “I think I’ll send Nicole over there by herself. I don’t think she’ll mind flying solo.” Now that my Jacob-rage has subsided, I’m too tired to function. “Besides, I need to do some laundry and get to bed by eleven. I’m not sure how much fun I can pack in between now and then.”

I let out a sigh that’s been building in my chest. It’s Friday night, and the old chicks on
The Golden Girls
sound more exciting than I do right now.

God, am I always this boring?

Sheri must agree with my internal assessment because she makes a little grunt of displeasure. “Seriously, get your ass up. I don’t want you obsessing over seeing Jacob tonight. Go out, have a few drinks, make out with someone hot. I’m sure there are a ton of sexy men next door who would love nothing more than to service you.”

“Sheri, I’m not going to have anyone
service
me, you little hussy.”

She laughs and bends over to apply lipstick in my mirror. “What is wrong with getting it on tonight?” She turns back to me, hands on her hips. “How long did you wait to have sex with Jacob?”

Not long enough. “Three months. Why?”

“You waited a very respectable amount of time to sleep with someone who turned out to be a giant dick. If you were holding out because you were hoping doing so would help you see if he was serious or not, it obviously didn’t work.”

I stare back, feeling more depressed by her little pep talk. “Okay. Your point?”

“My point is that the amount of time some guy waits to have sex with you is not an indicator of doucheyness. Jacob waited, and yet he’s the poster boy of douchebaggery.” She waves her lipstick container at me. “So stop waiting around for some boring guy in a sweater vest to make you feel like it’s safe to come out of your hidey hole. Be adventurous and get out there.”

I’d laugh at her “hidey hole” comment except it hits too close to home.

Her eyes pass over me, and she gets a little crinkle between her eyes. “Maddie, I’ve watched you work non-stop for weeks now. You’re gonna crash and burn at this rate. Take a break. Be social. Act your age, for Christ’s sakes. You don’t have to sleep with anyone, but at least go flirt with a sexy man. Flirting is like chicken soup. Good for the soul.”

Laughter spills out of me. “For a second there, I was afraid you were going to tell me that flirting is like chicken. Finger-lickin’ good.”

She snorts. “Girl, if anything is getting licked, you’re doing more than flirting. But that’s not a bad thing.” She winks and sashays out of my room.

Ugh. Maybe she’s right. I guess I can go have one drink.

Her words are still on my mind when I step into my closet and eye all of my business suits. My job doesn’t pay that much, but most of my salary goes toward my clothes, which I hate. Kids are starving in Third World countries, and I have to spend every penny on designer outfits so I can look like a responsible, respectable reporter. Ironic.

I blow out a breath.
Act my age.
I guess that rules out most of my clothes.

When Nicole saunters into our condo twenty minutes later all primped and primed for a Friday night out, the look of disgust on her face makes me wonder if I took Sheri’s advice too seriously.

“You are
not
going to Daren’s house dressed in a Guns ’n Roses t-shirt and jeans,” she snarks.

“Well, judging by your apparel, you thought the theme of the night was street-walker chic, so I guess we both got our wires crossed.”

Nicole stares at me for a moment and then breaks out into a laugh. “Hmm. The uptight bitch isn’t so uptight after all. Good to know.” Her hands smooth down her short dress. “I do look hot, don’t I?” She doesn’t give me a chance to respond. “Come on, Mad Dog. Let’s get you an outfit. Where’s your closet?”

And now I’d say the theme of the evening is freaky Friday. Because my snarky coworker is dragging me into my room to play dress-up. Maybe I could use that drink after all. Or four.

* * *

Nicole wastes no time making herself at home once we get to Daren’s. Of course, first she socks me in the arm for not telling her he’s my neighbor.

His condo is the reverse of ours, and his decor is surprisingly minimalist. A few leather couches, a flatscreen TV, stainless-steel fixtures and a few lamps. Simple. For a guy who’s not only one of the most in-demand athlete-celebrities but also the heir to a multi-million dollar fortune, I’d say he’s practically slumming it. But seeing that he’s not into obnoxious displays of wealth makes me like him a teeny bit more.

Nicole flirts with at least three linebackers before she makes it back to me in the living room where I chat with a girl who’s dating the kicker.

Daren works the crowd, shaking hands and doing the bro hug thing when he talks to friends. That effortless smile plays on his lips, and it’s easy to see why he’s known for his leadership. Girls make goo-goo eyes at him when he talks to them, and when they put their hands on his arm and pull him close, I have a sudden urge to strangle them with their product-enhanced shiny, long hair. Which is idiotic since I barely know the man.

But he does look sexy tonight. Who am I kidding? He always looks sexy.

He’s wearing dark jeans and a snug white polo that shows off all of his muscles. Although he’s dressed casually, he has a regal vibe about him.
It’s probably because his parents own half of New England.

“Are you two fucking?” Nicole asks in my ear.

My mouth drops open. “What?”

She makes a face like I’m a dumbass and motions toward Daren.

“No. God, no. Why would you think that?”

She studies me, her lips twisted. “Because you’ve been standing in this corner watching him like a sad little puppy.”

“I have
not
been watching him.” She hands me another beer, and I toss it back so I don’t have to talk.

“Uh-huh.”

Seeing Jacob tonight made me realize I need to live a little, and if that means appreciating Daren’s obvious good looks, so be it. But that doesn’t mean I want anyone to know it. Besides, as any girl can tell you, looking and touching are two totally different things. And I have no intention of touching. Ever.

Because one thing is certain—I’ll never date another cheater again.

Fine. I don’t know
for sure
that Daren cheated on his ex, Clementine, but when I interviewed her last fall about her book, most of her novel seemed to be autobiographical despite her denials. And that book very clearly detailed how her quarterback boyfriend broke her heart by sleeping with her best friend.
So you can take your charm and your cute little chin dimple, Daren Sloan, and kiss my ass.

Realizing Nicole is waiting for me to respond, I clear my throat. “We’re neighbors, but we hardly talk. I spoke to him more on the day I interviewed him than the month I’ve been living next door. I never see him. I mean, not that I’m looking.”
Shut it, Maddie.

Nicole’s blank expression tells me she’s not convinced. “I figured you two had to be fucking because you were so flirty when you interviewed him. It’s one of the reasons your segment was so good, and it’s why I think Spencer doesn’t like my interview as much despite the fact that I promised him a blow job if he gave me the story.”

“You promised Spencer a blow job?” At least a handful of people hear me shout. My cheeks start to burn.

She laughs. “No, but you should see your face.”

God, this girl makes me insane.

Her manicured finger grabs a long strand of blonde hair as she sighs. “I might have mentioned that my father’s best friend is the vice president of CBS. It took Spencer all of two seconds to reconsider and give me the segment. He’ll be disappointed when he finds out my dad works for the Los Angeles Department of Social Services.”

I laugh. “You’re playing with fire.” I shake my head. Even though I’d rather lose a limb than manipulate someone into giving me an assignment, a part of me admires her tenacity. “Good for you. You should go after what you want. It’s a sports segment.” I point my beer at her. “You do sports.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“Anytime.” I nod, downing my second beer.

“But you should know that Daren never looks at me the way he looks at you.”

“What do you mean?”

She rolls her eyes. “Like he’d like to eat you for breakfast.”

My stupid heart pitter-patters faster. “He’s just playing it up for the camera.”

Nicole smirks. “Yeah, okay. If that’s what you want to tell yourself.”

CHAPTER TEN

- Daren -

Quentin shakes his ass at me, and I laugh. “You have moves.”

“Tell me about it,” he says, thrusting his hips in rhythm to the music.

I haven’t known Quentin long, but practicing together day in and day out has a way of bonding people. He and I clicked from the beginning, which could bode well for our season. While the game takes place on the field, those men watch my ass and make sure I don’t get killed. So to me, they’re family.