Will he spoon me like he did the other night?

Last night he didn’t, and I’m not sure if it was because I scared him in the kitchen with how much I was touching him, caressing him. When I turned my back toward him, he didn’t reach for me, he didn’t pull me into his chest, and he didn’t hold me all night long. He didn’t even hold my hand.

I missed it. I miss everything about his simple touch when we share the same bed, and it kept me wondering if I’d crossed that line.

He slips under the covers and plugs his phone into his charger. When I feel him turn under the covers, I hold my breath, waiting for his large arm to slip around me, but when it doesn’t, my heart sinks once again.

I totally fucked things up. That must be why he’s not holding me. I pushed things too far in the kitchen, even though he was the one to initiate the touching. It was him just being him. I slid my hands up his arm, over his shoulders and practically massaged his neck and face while taking in every texture of his features.

This is why I need to keep my heart as far away from this man as possible. I’m breaking with every passing moment that he doesn’t return the love I carry for him. I’m certainly nothing like any of his harem, so it’s no surprise he can’t see me as anything other than his best friend. Maybe it’s time I start looking for a shared apartment somewhere. Maybe Marcy might know of someone I can ask. Maybe it’s time . . .

“What the hell are you doing up?” Maddox asks, coming into the kitchen his eyes barely open as he stumbles toward the coffee pot.

Once again, he’s in nothing but his boxer briefs, just like every other morning, but this time he looks even more sexy. I’m not sure if it’s from the attraction that’s growing deep within me, or if he just looks extra handsome this morning. But seeing him walk toward me causes my stomach to flip with nerves, especially when he passes by me, his hand sliding over my hip right before he grabs a mug and picks up the coffee pot and serves himself a cup.

Turning and leaning against the counter, he brings the mug up to his chest and smiles at me.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.” I shake my head and move away, but not before he catches my wrist and brings me against his chest. His bare, warm chest meets my cheek, and I’m pretty sure it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt. It takes everything in me not to rub my cheek back and forth over his thick chest. Because that would make me seem desperate.

“Good morning, babe. I missed you yesterday.”

“Good morning,” I say softly.

He pulls away and lifts my chin. “Everything okay?”

I give him a half-smile, as it’s all I can muster. “Everything is great.”

He studies me. “Not buying it. What’s going on?” He sets his coffee down, lifts me by the waist and sits me on the counter, only to straddle me with his arms, staring at me.

That was heavenly, being handled by him like that. I just want to make that known.

“Nothing’s going on,” I say, reaching out and pushing his hair to the side.

Hell, stop touching him, Kinsley. That’s what got you in trouble the first time. Hands to yourself at all times.

“Then why are your eyes sad and rimmed with red?”

Damn it, he really does know me way too well. Not wanting to tell him the truth, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “The shelter. I feel the pressure to find these amazing animals homes.”

He studies me, for a few long, torturous seconds, those brilliant eyes of his digging into my very soul, trying to figure me out. And when he replies, I know he doesn’t believe me once again, but he drops it. “You will find them homes. I know you will.” He slides his hand up my thigh and it sends a wave of tingles straight to my core, hollowing me out with need for more. “Give yourself some time to get situated first. I know you’re Wonder Woman, but even she needed to take a second.”

“Wonder Woman? Really? See, I always said you liked the brunettes with boobs.”

“Pretty sure I like blondes with next to nothing in the boob department, babe.” Then he lifts up, winks, and walks away.

What the . . .

I swallow hard, my heart hammering as I watch his chiseled back and perfect rear retreat down the hall, each and every muscle working back and forth with each step.

He did not just say that, did he?

And did he mean it? Because he winked, and winking always means joking, right?

I want to run up to him, pull on his arm, ask him what he meant by that, if he was joking or if he truly meant he liked me liked me.

I press my hand to my forehead and let out a long sigh. When did this become so difficult? This is Maddox, I know him better than anyone else. I should be able to read him. But for some reason, I’m having a challenging time when it comes to this side of things. The romantic side, the flirting, the beyond intimate touching.

Feeling resigned, I hop off the counter, set my mug down, and head down to the bedroom where Maddox is taking a shower. Heat invades my cheeks from the thought of him naked just one wall away—soaping his body, all the contours and divots. Does he . . . does he ever jack off in the shower?

Of course he does, he’s a man.

But how many times has he done it since I moved in? According to him, he hasn’t been seeing his “brothel” of women, but then again, I don’t know that for sure. He could be meeting up with them at some point.

I shake my head. No. Maddox wouldn’t lie about that. If he’s not having sex, then he’s not. Which means, he’s most likely jacking off in the shower.

I’m tempted to lean my ear against the door, listen carefully for any grunts, but that would be a total invasion of privacy and a detriment to my already wilting heart that’s crashing and tumbling for this man every second of the day.

What would be best is if I get the hell out of here. According to the schedule, Maddox leaves tonight after their game and they head to the West Coast for two series, which means seven days away from him. Maybe that’s what I need. Seven days with just me and Herman.

I can get my head on straight and maybe start thinking about possibly moving out, because that seems to be the problem. Living with him. I never lived with him before. And I never had thoughts about him like this either, so the sooner I move out, the sooner I can get things back to normal.

Feeling positive about my new plan, I quickly change into a pair of lightweight cargo pants—perfect for working at an animal shelter—strap a bra around me—sigh—and throw on one of my favorite shirts of a cat holding a leg bone. It says, “I found this humorous.” Just knowing I have it on makes me chuckle.

I don’t bother with makeup, because what’s the point? And I put on my shoes. I’m halfway through tying the second shoe when the bathroom door opens and Maddox steps out, wearing nothing but a low-slung towel around his waist. His hip divots stick out, and I see the faintest line of hair below his navel that disappears under his towel.

His hair is dark like the night and wet, not dripping, but just wet enough to up his sexy level tenfold. The hair on his pecs is freshly shaved, giving new meaning to their definition, and his abs seem to be even more distinct than before. I’m not sure if it’s because he did a thirty-minute ab workout in the shower, or if it’s the water that’s making them shiny and enticing.

When I catch his facial expression, his brow is pinched as he leans against the doorframe. “Leaving already?”

“Oh yeah, want to get a jump-start on things.”

“It’s barely six thirty.”

Yup, that’s a jump-start all right. “Picking up bagels for the girls and some volunteers that are coming in.” Wasn’t planning on it, but now I am.

“Okay.”

I stand from the bed and pat my legs for no apparent reason other than I’m feeling incredibly awkward, and like I don’t know how to act around him.

“So, uh, away trip. Arizona and California, huh? Ever been there?” I joke, but it comes off flat and not funny at all.

He pushes off the doorframe and walks toward me, swagger in his every step.

He takes my chin in his hand and says, “Are you going to miss me?”

Unfortunately, more than you know.

“Nah.” I wave my hand. “Herman and I will be celebrating, the whole house to ourselves without someone walking behind us, vacuuming and keeping the place spotless.”

He smirks and brings me closer to his mouth and for a brief second, he holds me in place, our lips inches apart right before he diverts to my cheek and places a soft kiss there. When he pulls away, I’m left breathless and so aware of his body that it physically feels like a gut punch that I didn’t get to feel his lips on mine.

“I’ll call you later. Have a good day, babe.”

He heads back to the bathroom and for the love of God, I scramble to grab my things, hook Herman to his leash, and get the hell out of there.

Air. I need air.