“Want more of me already?” He quirks a half-grin, which shocks me, as does the joke.
“Ha-ha. Take off your shirt and let me look at your piercing.”
Maddox stops at the end of my desk and I stand up. He doesn’t take his shirt all the way off, but lifts it so I can see his chest. “Does it hurt?” I ask, letting my finger trace the slightly reddened skin around it.
“Hell yeah it does. I have tats, and I broke my ankle playing football when I was younger and none of them touch this.”
“You played football?” sort of tumbles out of my mouth.
He shrugs. “It was another lifetime ago.”
We both had another life, floats through my head, but I try to wash it away, with his piercing. “I’m going to put some cream on it.” I run to grab what I’m looking for before going back out to Maddox. After squeezing a little on the tip of my finger, I gently rub it on his nipple.
It’s crazy stupid, but I can’t help myself from watching my finger as it moves against him in a really sexy place.
“It’s not too swollen.”
“Then that’s about the only thing on me that isn’t.”
I think for the first time in my life someone makes me gasp. Looking down, I see a very obvious erection beneath the fly of his jeans.
“I don’t see anything,” I tease, and then Maddox does something I never expected. He lets out the first real laugh I’ve ever heard from him—all throaty and sexy and scary because I enjoy the sound.
Then I laugh, too, because he’s right and the bulge is huge and he made a joke, which he doesn’t do very often. Suddenly we’re both laughing together and it’s strange and cool at the same time. It’s then I realize my finger is still on his nipple and then he lets out this sexy moan and I do, too, before we both separate.
Distance. We definitely need distance.
“It looks good. Make sure you keep taking care of it, okay? They’re not the easiest piercings to have. I’d hate it if it got infected or you regretted it… What?” I ask. He’s cocking his head at me, studying me in this way I don’t understand.
“You.” He turns his back to me, walks to the supply cabinet, and looks inside, moving stuff around.
“Me, what?”
He doesn’t answer right away and I can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to figure out what to say. He’s mentioned he’s not a fan of words, and I can see that. He doesn’t talk a lot, but the words he does say usually really mean something. They’re not emotional or in depth, yet when he says them, you know they’re important.
“The caretaker bit. It shocked me.” He still has his back to me. His voice is tight, though not like anger… confusion maybe.
“I don’t try to take care of people. I’m doing my job.”
“Are you?” he asks, and I suddenly want to tell him to shut up. He’s always so quiet—words never coming easy for him. It’s strange that suddenly he wants to use them.
“What about you? You’re cracking jokes. Like that’s not different for you?”
“I know.” There’s the anger. It’s found its way to his voice, only it doesn’t feel like it’s directed at me.
Turn around. At least look at me if we’re doing this.
I wait for him to say more. He doesn’t. Nothing comes out of my mouth either, so I sit back at my desk and look at some of the tattoo blogs I visit. I get two more people who come in for piercings, which Maddox watches. It’s obvious he’s not nearly as into those as he is tattooing.
We’re still not talking. Honestly I’m not sure what’s going on or why it’s on my mind. Unfortunately it is. We had this easy conversation this morning, and now it’s as though we took ten steps backward. The space between us isn’t anger, but there’s definitely space.
I like space. He likes space. What’s the big deal?
The longer it goes on, the more it upsets me. The more I upset me. “If you’re going to pout all day, you might as well go home.”
Maddox crosses his arms and stares at me. “I didn’t know I was pouting. I’m taking care of shit, Bee.”
The way my name rolls off his tongue unexpectedly makes me shiver.
“You’re pouting.”
“Why do you care?”
I shake my head, knowing I’m being a bitch. He’s not innocent either, though. Maybe that’s what makes things different between us than they are with other people. Neither of us gets close or uses words to show who we are, but we use actions. We both use strength as our defense. I’ve never known someone who was like me before. Who got me.
“I’ll be right back.” I’m the one pouting now as I head to the back office. I hear Maddox sigh and then the creak of the chair at my computer desk. I can’t help but glance over my shoulder. He’s leaned back enough that I can see him down the hall. Quickly I turn away.
The sound of the glass door opening drifts through the shop.
“Can I help you?” Maddox asks. The chair moves and I watch him as he pushes to his feet.
“Hello.”
Everything inside me freezes at the voice. Yep, that’s right. I’m a bitch.
“I’m looking for L—Bee. I’m looking for Bee.”
I close my eyes, feeling myself shrink until I’m about two inches high. Before I open them, I know Maddox is looking down the hall at me. I give a small shake of my head, open my eyes, and plead with them.
“Um… no. She’s not in today. I’m Maddox. I help her out.”
“Oh,” my mother says. “It’s very nice to meet you. I didn’t know Bee had anyone working with her. I have to admit, I’m glad to hear it.”
Smaller. I’m getting smaller and smaller as I stand hidden.
“I’ve always worried about her being alone all day and night in the shop. It’s a scary world out there.” There’s nothing but sincerity in her voice.
“She’s strong. I think people know not to mess with her. I’m here a lot, though. I mean, not that I think it’s my job to protect her or anything,” Maddox backpedals.
“Yes. She is strong, isn’t she?” I can practically see my mom through the walls. Her perfectly styled blond hair. She’s probably wearing some sort of diamond earrings that most likely came from my father. Flowers I bet and a dress. The opposite of me.
Instead of replying to her question, Maddox asks, “Can I tell her who came by?”
He knows. With one look it’s obvious.
“I’m her mom, Katherine. It’s nice to… what did you say your name is again?”
“Maddox.”
I watch him lean forward and know they’re shaking hands.
“I’m passing through on business. I wanted to stop by and see her. I’ve been trying to call, but I can’t get a hold of her. I know it sounds silly to worry…”
Don’t tell him why. Don’t say anything that will make him question my past.
“I know her phone has been acting up. I think she’s planning on getting a new one.” Silently I thank him for the lie while I continue to get smaller and smaller. I’m a coward for hiding back here. Worse than that because she’s here out of concern for me—she’s always cared about me—but I’m still trying to figure out how to love anyone. Or if I want to.
And like when I was taken, she’s still not giving up on me.
Mom laughs. “See? Perfectly logical explanation. It’s like a mother to worry. I’m sure yours is the same way.”
There’s no reply from Maddox at that.
“Okay. I guess I better head out, then. Can you tell her I stopped by?” she asks.
Go out there. Go out there and say hi.
“Yeah, I’ll tell her.”
Footsteps. Then the door opens. I exhale, thinking I’m in the clear, when she speaks again. “She’s okay? She’s happy?”
I can see Maddox tense from down the hall. The thoughts that must be going through his head right now scare me.