The first place I can think to look is by his bike. Maddox is sitting on the curb, cigarette in hand. Even from behind, I can see how rigid and tense his body is. What he did back there was huge for him and honestly I’m surprised he did it.
“You know I’d have to kick your ass if you tried to leave without me, right?” Stepping next to him, I hope light is the best way to play this.
He doesn’t reply.
I walk past Maddox to his bike and throw my leg over it, grip the handles that feel welcome in my hands. “Did you decide I can drive it yet?”
He takes another drag of his cigarette but doesn’t reply.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had a good ride—I mean drive.”
At that he looks up at me through his dark lashes and half his mouth rises in a smile.
“Hasn’t been that long.”
“Of course you speak when I start in with the sexual innuendoes.”
Maddox puts his cigarette out on the concrete, reaches into his pocket, pulls out a mint, and pops it into his mouth. “What are you doing out here, Bee?”
Still sitting on the bike, I let go of the handles so I’m straight. “I would have thought that was pretty obvious.” I pause for a few seconds, then add, “The drawing was incredible, Scratch.”
He rubs a hand across the dark brown stubble on his face, then smiles cockily. “I know.”
An unwelcome warmth spreads through me. Damn he’s gorgeous. “Then why are we out here?”
“You know why.”
Yeah, yeah, I do. Because he’s like me. It’s hard to open yourself up for people. I wonder if he also fears that people who are important to him won’t like what they see. “You knew it would be hard going into it. Before you gave it to her—hell, when you drew it—but you did it anyway. That’s something.” Something I wouldn’t do. All Maddox has is Laney and he tries to be there for her. I have a whole family of people who love me and I run away from them. Guilt ignites a wildfire that scorches through me.
“Yeah?” he asks.
“Yeah.” He’s staring at me with those deep gray eyes of his. My skin savors the feel of them on me but my brain makes me turn away. It’s too much, especially knowing I like his gaze there.
“You looked like you were getting along well with them—Laney and Cheyenne.”
His change of subject is surprising and welcoming at the same time. “She’s cool. I like her. I didn’t go to school when I was younger, so I didn’t really hang out with a lot of girls in high school. I lived in a wealthy area and most of the girls weren’t too into hanging out with the chick who had her nose pierced and didn’t date guys but had sex.”
Two things spar for my attention at once. First, I told him something about myself. The words had come out without a thought. The second is that for the first time, I feel a little embarrassed about my past. It’s not that I’ve slept with a ton of guys. But I’ve never been an angel either. It’s not something that has ever bothered me but I don’t want Maddox to think I sleep around. Why does it matter? There’s nothing wrong with safely enjoying my sexuality.
It’s not like we didn’t meet trying to have a one-night stand anyway. Whatever he thinks about me is probably already engraved into his mind.
“Not that there were a lot of men—”
“Holy shit.” Maddox pushes to his feet.
“What?”
Within a couple strides, he’s reached me. His right hand comes toward me and cups my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek.
“You’re blushing. I thought you were too bad-ass to blush.”
I smile. “I know lots of good tricks.”
“Don’t do that.”
Maddox hasn’t lowered his hand, so I pull back. “Do what?”
“Feel like you have to make excuses. It’s like you said the first night, there’s nothing wrong with a woman knowing what she wants. And I can tell you’re not the type of person to sleep with everyone you meet.”
Person. I love that he said person and not woman.
“I worry about you, Leila, I mean, Bee. I don’t want you to get hurt or wake up one day and regret where you are. You’re such a beautiful, smart young woman. You could have anything. Your sister has someone she’d like to introduce you to. We could go shopping and get your hair done. I think you’d be so happy if you met a nice boy . . .”
If I could do anything, what was wrong with picking to be a tattoo artist? Did my happiness revolve around meeting a nice guy? Being like everyone else in my family? Not that there’s anything wrong with that, except that it’s not me.
But then Mom had hugged me. Hugged me and told me she loved me. And it only made me question love more. How can you love someone you want to change? I know she wishes I was that girl who wants nothing more than to meet a nice guy. The girl she probably thinks I would be if she’d raised me.
“Where’d you go?” Maddox’s voice breaks through my thoughts. He has his finger tilting my chin up so I’m looking at him.
He’s so close that I can see every little detail about him, like the small dimple below his lip that doesn’t show often. I want to rub my cheek against the stubble on his face and feel his lips as they possess mine. “Nowhere . . .,” whispers past my lips.
“My bike’s too big for you to handle but you look sexy as hell on it.” Maddox leans closer. “Mmm, I wish I could see your ink.”
He might not be a nice boy and I am definitely not the perfect, nice girl but I’ve never wanted him with the burning passion engulfing me right now. Before I have the chance to kiss him, Maddox’s lips come down on mine. Both his hands are cupping my face as I straddle his bike and he kisses the hell out of me. His tongue pushes past my lips, deep inside my mouth like he’s starving for me the same way I’m suddenly starving for him. I’ve never wanted—needed—anyone the way need surges through me right now but he feels too good and tastes too good for me to worry about it.
I’m wishing he was on this bike with me. That we were somewhere else so we could do so much more and he could cure the ache inside me.
Suddenly, he’s pulling away and I’m fighting not to pull him back to me. He doesn’t go far, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear, his mouth only inches from mine.
“We keep ending up this way.” His hand slides away and I wish he’d put it on me again.
“I know.”
“I’ve never . . .” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what the fuck to think about it.”
At that I laugh. Me either. “Your sister’s probably wondering where we are.”
Maddox closes his eyes for a second as though he’s trying to gather himself before he steps back. “Let’s go. I don’t trust you alone with my bike.” When he smiles, I see the dimple again. Then he holds out his hand to help me off the motorcycle, and I let him.
When we go back inside, Laney gives Maddox a hug and then we all move into the kitchen where I assume we’re about to do the cake. I’m surprised when Adrian pulls out one cupcake with a candle in it. After lighting it, we all sing “Happy Birthday” and then Adrian opens the fridge and pulls out caramel apples for everyone.
Laney looks at him like he had just handed her the world, and then he leans forward and whispers to her, “Such a sweet, Little Ghost.”
Maddox and I stand back from the rest of the group as they talk and laugh with each other. He should be there with them, laughing and talking, but I know he never would be. If I wasn’t here right now, he’d stand back from the group alone.
The urge to reach for him teases me. I don’t let myself follow through. “What’s with the apples?”
Maddox shrugs. “Hell if I know. It’s not the first time he’s given her one.”
My eyes are drawn to them as they stand close. Laney right next to Adrian and Cheyenne the same way with Colt. It’s like they complete each other. They give each other something that no one else in the world can. I’ve seen that in Mom and Dad, even in Rex and Melody, but with them . . . it almost feels
like seeing it with someone like me.
A strange sort of longing comes out of hiding inside me and I wish it would go away. That’s not me. I don’t want things like this. Hell, Maddox and I can hardly talk to each other about anything important. He doesn’t know much about me at all.
But he knows me . . . somehow he knows me.
And I like that he does.
“Are you ready to go?” Maddox has leaned over, his mouth next to my ear.
After looking at the group one more time, I tell him, “Yeah . . . I think so.”
“Laney, we’re going to head out.” Maddox nods toward the door.
“Good seein’ ya again, man.” Colt nods at Maddox as Cheyenne comes toward me.
My body tenses when she pulls me into a hug. “I think I want another tattoo!”
At that I laugh and then pull back. “Name the time.”
I’m not sure if Adrian and Maddox say anything to each other because when I look, Laney is hugging Scratch. Her face is angled toward the other side of him and I can tell she’s saying something in his ear. She’s so relaxed but he looks slightly uncomfortable. Laney pulls back and he ruffles her hair and says, “I know.”
It’s so not my business; still, I want to know what she said. Or maybe it’s that I want to know what he heard. Everything about Maddox makes me curious.
“I’m so glad you could come.” Laney turns to me next and pulls me into a hug as well. It’s so crazy being around these girls. I’m not used to being around women I feel comfortable with—women I feel like I can be myself around—and it gives me this strange sort of happiness I didn’t know I missed.
The whole way home I can’t stop thinking about it. I hardly register my arms and legs around Maddox as he drives his motorcycle through town. Today was a good day. I had fun and felt okay being me . . . like I had when I lived with Melody and Rex? They loved me for me. Mom and Dad love me even though they wish I were someone else. I can’t keep putting my parents down and not Rex and Melody, though. It’s not like they are perfect either. They stole me.
Little flashes of fear flicker through me again. The feeling of being grabbed . . . of being confused. They stole me and told me my parents were dead. And it hurt. I never let myself remember that I’d been sad at first. How could they hurt me if they loved me? Or did that mean they loved me more? Because they risked it all for me and wanted me so badly.
The world would be easier without so many questions of what love is and how to do it properly. I see it when Laney and Maddox look at each other or between Adrian and Laney and Colt and Cheyenne. I’ve seen it with my parents looking at me or Rex and Melody looking at me and I’ve felt it too. And still I don’t understand it. Don’t get how people can love someone and want them to be someone different or love them and hurt them.
Before I know it, we’re pulling into my driveway and Maddox is turning off his motorcycle. With a kick, I pull my leg over the bike and pull the helmet from my head. “Tell me about your sister and Adrian.” I don’t know why I need to know but there’s suddenly this thirst that I can’t quench. There has to be a story there. Maybe if I know it, it’ll help me understand.
One, two, three, four, five. Maddox sits on the bike, not looking at me. Then he pulls the helmet from his head and I know I struck a chord—that the way his sister and Adrian got together somehow ties to him too. I see the ache in him that he tries so hard to bury. “Shit. I’m sorry. It’s not my business. You don’t have to tell me anything.”
Slowly, he turns his head, looks at me. He does that thing again where he closes his eyes for a second before taking a deep breath and opening them.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” I say, trying to make up for inadvertently pushing him.
“My dad killed Adrian’s son.” He turns, his jaw tight, eyes trained in front of him instead of on me.
Words escape me. Fighting, I try to find them in the maze of my mind but I can’t. His father killed Adrian’s son. And he’s with her. He loves her. And Maddox told me.
“Maddox . . . shit. I’m sorry.”
“Why?” He looks at me. “You didn’t do it. You didn’t get fucked up and get your girlfriend to go down on you while you were taking a corner too fast.” His hands tighten into fists. “He was two years old and my father ran him down in front of Adrian. That’s what started the shit with my mom.”
“How?” I’m shaking my head. We shouldn’t be doing this in the middle of my driveway. We maybe shouldn’t be doing it at all. Holy crap. His father killed Adrian’s little boy.
“Laney thought she could make it better. She wanted to find Adrian, tell him and apologize, like that would somehow fix all our lives. She thought Ash was Adrian’s nephew. But instead of telling him the truth, she fell for him. When she told him, she found out it was his son.”
Finally . . . finally he looks at me. “As you can imagine, he lost it. He found his way back to her, though. He loves her enough that he would do anything for her regardless of what we took from him.”
How do you love like that?
“What do you mean, ‘we’? You didn’t take anything from him. Just like you said I wasn’t in that car, you weren’t either.”
“I should go.” Maddox’s hand comes up to put the helmet back on his head, but I grab it. I don’t know what’s come over me but I need him here. Can’t let him leave.
Not after the truth he gave me.
“Don’t.”
I look at him. Really look at him. Yes, I’ve always thought he was gorgeous but that’s not all that’s there. I know that only now I’m seeing it. Seeing the pain inside him as though he’s wearing it for me. I don’t know where it all comes from or why he feels any responsibility for his father, but it’s there.
And my heart breaks for him.
“Why? Why should I stay, Bee? So we can keep fucking around? So we can draw pictures again or sleep in the same bed? Why do we keep playing these games?”
He’s right. We are playing games but I don’t know how to stop them. I also don’t know how to let him go and I don’t think I want to. I want to give him something. Want him close to me in a way I’ve never wanted anyone close to me before. If I could, I’d cure that ache inside him. I don’t know how to tell him that. Don’t know how to show him or even what the hell it all means.
“I don’t know,” I admit, at a loss for words.
His eyes bore into me. “Tell me about your parents, Bee. You wanna talk all of a sudden, tell me that. Is that why you want me to come inside?” His words are angry lashes across my skin.
I think about his sister and her friends. How much they care about each other and how they made me feel like I fit. How I feel like that with him, too, and Maddox has given me both those things.
How he came to me and let me pierce him because he knew that was all he had to offer. It was his way to say he kind of trusted me and I want him to know the same thing about me. That I trust him. I’m falling for him . . . Or maybe I’m already there.
When I open my mouth, those aren’t the words that come out. “No, those aren’t the reasons I want you to come in. I want you to mark me.”
His eyes fill with fire and I know he understands exactly what I mean.
Chapter Twenty-Two
~Maddox~
I want you to mark me.
I’m cemented in place. My feet nailed to the ground and my eyes glued to her. There is no doubt in my mind what she’s saying. She wants me to give her ink—to put something into her skin and it’s the biggest fucking honor to even have her say it but also scares the hell out of me. This is huge. This is Bee and the last thing I want is to screw something up that’s this big.
She straight up told me she hasn’t let anyone except the Professor give her ink but she’s asking for it from me—someone who’s never put needle to flesh before.
There’s no fucking way I will walk away from this either. I want my mark on her. Want her to have a piece of me with her for the rest of her life.
r /> “Here?” Cocking my head, I nod toward her house.
“I have everything we need.”
As if my body has a mind of its own, I reach for her. Wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her close. I like having her near, like the way she feels and how she makes me feel. My body molds to hers as though we’re supposed to fit together.
We walk to her house and she unlocks the door. Bee steps in first and hits a light. Words are trapped in my throat as I look around her house. It’s . . . perfect. Her furniture is white and there are dried flowers on the entertainment center and paintings on the walls that you can tell cost more than all the secondhand shit in my house put together. It’s not her.
“Mom did it for me as a surprise.” She looks at me. “Surprise! It’s a very grown-up house, I’m told. My sister helped.”
There’s so much history behind her words that I hear it coating them—dripping off but still leaving residue behind.
Bee doesn’t give me time to ask, though. Honestly I’m not sure if I would. My hands itch too much to tattoo her to think of anything else.
“Drink?” she asks.
“Water. Where can I leave my jacket? I don’t want to fuck anything up.”
Her back is to me as she walks into the kitchen. “Put it anywhere, Maddox.”
A couple seconds later she comes out with two bottles of water. Instead of moving toward the living room, she heads to a hallway and I go right behind her. Four closed doors line the hall, two on each side. Bee picks the last one on the right. When she turns on the light, I see the room is full of tattoo supplies but it looks like an art room too. There’s a desk with a lamp and a light board for drawing. Pencils are in a cup.
In the corner there’s a chair. Not a tattoo chair but one that will definitely serve the purpose. A cabinet is in the other corner, with no doors on the front and stocked full of brand-new supplies.