still coming and squirting on my thighs and stomach, covering me with even more of his cum as he sits back on his heels, looking at me with surprise in his eyes.
“Damn, Maddie. That was . . .” He doesn’t finish the sentence, just smiles that dimpled smile that drives me wild before leaning over to take my mouth in a kiss. His thoughts and feelings about what we just did, what we just said are in every swipe of his tongue against mine. And I tell him the same thing right back with my swirling tongue.
We’re quiet as we shower, my shy, happy smile complementing his cocky swagger. And when we snuggle up on the couch, he covers us both over with a blanket, even though his warmth is all I need as he wraps me up in his arms.
Scott plays with my hair, twining it around his finger and then letting it twirl off. His voice is cautious as he says, “Maddie, that was intense, and it’s okay if you . . . if you said things you didn’t mean. I love you so fucking much. But it’s okay if you’re not there yet.”
This man. He thinks I’m just throwing out love words casually, thinks he doesn’t deserve them because he’s never had them given to him, not once in his life. Which is a fucking sin. I turn, looking him in the eye. “I meant every word. I love you. Actually, I wanted to talk about my moving in again.”
I can see the hope lighting his eyes, so I don’t prolong the moment. “I’d love to.”
I’d expected him to hoot and holler with joy, maybe do a little happy dance. But what he does is so much better. He pulls me even tighter against him, burying his face in my neck like he can’t get close enough to me and whispers, “Thank you.”
After a bit, Scott begins snoring softly behind me. Guess he’s worn out from all our fun running around this weekend too. But I’m full of energy.
My future is bright, and there’s nothing that can stop me.
My mind is swirling with thoughts about what could happen. Living with Scott . . . maybe one day transitioning from working for Stella? Not that I don’t love it, I really do, but anything seems possible.
Not wanting to disturb him, I carefully get up, going to grab my phone from the kitchen drawer where he’d tossed his a few days ago.
As soon as I turn it on, my phone starts vibrating like a windup toy. Texts out the wazoo.
I smile at first, seeing Tiff’s daily horoscope reports. But then . . .
Girl, you okay? I figure you’re with Scott but haven’t heard from you.
Stella’s hired two new bartenders.
I gasp and scroll down.
OMG, where are you? Stella is falling apart!
Typing frantically, I text her back. Spent the weekend with Scott and phone was off. What happened!?
Call me. Now.
I peek over at the couch, seeing Scott sleeping peacefully, and press the button to call Tiff. She answers immediately.
“What the fuck, Maddie?” she all but yells in my ear.
Trying to keep my voice hushed, I whisper back. “What’s going on?”
I can hear Tiff’s inhale. “Honey, you’d better sit down. You ready for this?” I must make some noise of readiness, but I do it mindlessly, my brain already bracing for the worst based on the way Tiffany is acting.
“So remember how Daryl no-showed with the delivery? It was because he . . . he was . . . he was in a trucking accident on the other side of town. He didn’t make it, Maddie. Daryl died.”
I gasp as I collapse to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest as the pain shoots through my heart at the loss of such a good man. “Oh my God, that’s awful. Stella must be beside herself,” I say, the understatement of the century.
“Well, yeah, but to add insult to injury,” she chokes out, not realizing the pain of the phrasing until the words pass her lips. With a gulp, she continues. “Yeah, and whatever happened with you and Carl the other night . . . he’s been missing ever since.”
“What? He was fine when we left. Well, unconscious and beat-up, but fine,” I say, trying to make some sense out of the crazy things Tiff is telling me.
“I don’t know. Stella called me in the middle of the night and asked me to pick her up early, said she wanted to give