“Yeah, I’m fine. There’s nothing to worry about and Bee was great too. She came down, picked me up, and helped me get home.”

Maddox turns and acknowledges me with the briefest glance before he gives her another nod.

“Thanks for that. I owe you one,” Adrian tells me. I shake my head, all my attention on Maddox.

“I’m gonna go. I’m supposed to go back to work. I’m glad you’re okay.” And then he looks at Adrian. In typical male fashion, they don’t speak, only nod at each other again.

Instinct makes me follow Maddox out. He doesn’t say a word to me as he takes the stairs quickly. It’s not until we get to the parking lot that I speak. “Hey. Good to see you too.”

“I gotta go,” is all he says. Then he gets onto his motorcycle and he’s gone, leaving me alone.

No. He’s not leaving me; he has no responsibility to stay. I don’t want him to either. I need to start remembering that.

I get into my car and head back to Masquerade. It’s more a home than my house is. It’s where I always go when I need to be reminded of who I am. Of Bee.

I don’t turn on the OPEN sign and I lock the door behind me. There are new blinds I just put on the glass door, so I close those too.

Hours later, I’m still sitting in Masquerade, thinking about what went down at Laney’s house today and wondering all sorts of things that I usually don’t let myself get close enough to anyone to think about. I jump when a clap of thunder sounds. It’s dark outside, nothing but the sound of the sudden rain slapping against Masquerade and the ground and me.

That’s when I hear it. That familiar rumble. And then I see the lights. Without looking through the blinds, I unlock and open the door. My breath catches in my throat when I see Maddox standing on the other side. His midnight hair flat against his head and rainwater pouring down him.

In this moment, he’s sexier than he’s ever been. He’s beautiful.

Chapter Fourteen ~Maddox~

I rode around for hours, trying not to let myself think about much of anything, except thinking ended up to be all I did.

Christ, Adrian is right. Who the fuck do I think I am? She’s my little sister and she has her shit together more than I do. She doesn’t need me. And him? If the fact that he’s with her at all doesn’t prove how much he loves her, nothing else will.

I swore when it started raining that I was going home, yet here I am, standing in front of Masquerade—in front of Bee, the girl who took care of my sister.

“Are you going to let me in?”

Without a word, she steps aside and I walk in. I hear the door close and the lock click into place behind me. I’m soaking wet, a pool of water beneath me on the floor.

“I think I have some towels in the back,” she tells me. When she walks by, I reach out and grab her wrist. It surprises me when she stops so easily.

“You took care of my sister twice. The first time it was your job. The second time, you didn’t have to but you did. You closed your shop and you picked her up when I was being an asshole and ignoring her calls.”

I wait for her to pull her hand away. She doesn’t. Instead, she stands there and looks straight at me.

“All I did was give her a ride. It’s not a big deal.”

“I wasn’t there. I told her I would always be, and I wasn’t. You were. That…” I close my eyes. Means something to me. When I open them again, I grab the bottom of my shirt and pull it over my head. Tossing it into the sink, I open the cabinet and pull out the piercing supplies and set them down. Then I walk over to the display of barbells and pull one out. Behind me, Bee hasn’t moved or spoken yet.

There’s a voice in my head that tells me how fucking ridiculous I am. How hard is it to say thank you? Words have never been easy for me. Actions speak louder and this is the only thing I can think of. I told her I wouldn’t let her pierce me because I didn’t trust her, but she was there for my sister. That’s the best kind of trust I can think of.

“A simple thank you would work.” Her voice cracks slightly. I’ve never heard it from her. She’s always calm and in control. Not now.

“What the fuck are words? People put too much stock in them when they don’t mean shit. Anyone can use them. People lie every day. I may not be good with words, but this I can do.”

“Okay.” She walks toward me. “I’m grabbing the towels. I’ll be right back.”

It means a lot to me that she doesn’t ask if I’m sure or doesn’t try to talk me out of it. Most people would. If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t be doing it, and I wonder if she knows that about me.

“Take off your pants,” she says when she walks back in the room. “You’re getting water everywhere.”

She tosses me a towel and then begins to lay the other one on the chair before reclining it. My jeans stick to my legs as I pull them off. They go into the sink with my shirt.

I can’t believe my hand actually fucking shakes as I dry myself off. I run the towel over my hair, too, but it doesn’t do much and I toss it and sit in the chair.

“I guess the rain helped one thing—they’re already hard.” She rasps her finger, with black-painted nails, over my nipples. I hiss, suddenly wanting her to touch me somewhere other than my chest.

If I were in the mood to laugh right now, I would. I’m sitting in a tattoo chair, wet, in nothing but a pair of boxer-briefs. When her eyes skate down my body with almost as much heat as a touch, I groan.

“We doing this?” It’s the same thing I asked the first night I met her.

Bee walks to the sink and washes her hands. Then she opens a new needle and the barbell package before grabbing a disinfecting wipe. I close my eyes when she cleans my left nipple.

“One or both?”

“One.”

Bee leans over me with a marker in her hand. She is so fucking sexy, all blond hair and tattoos, that small piercing in her nose, and I suddenly want my teeth tugging gently on the one in her belly button.

She puts a small dot on each side of my nipple, measuring it with her eyes to make sure it’s straight.

“What do you think?” she asks, still looking down. I don’t take my eyes off her.

“You’re the professional.” I trust you. At least in this I trust you.

“Maddox?”

“Don’t. Don’t ruin it with words. Please.”

“It’s going to hurt like a bitch,” she says.

“Most things do,” I reply. We both know I’m not talking about physically.

She nods before picking up the needle. Her hands are steady. Somehow it doesn’t surprise me. Not with her. The barbell fits on the end of the needle, and then she grabs the piercing forceps and clamps them down on my nipple. Bee lines the point up with the spot from the marker.

“Don’t move. It’ll be quick. You need to stay still. I’ll be careful.”

I nod, start to close my eyes, but then think, Fuck that, and watch her instead. I don’t take my eyes off her when a sharp, stinging pain shoots through me. Christ it fucking hurts. My whole body tenses up as the little needle stabs me. “Fuck!” I grit out, but then the barbell is in and she’s twisting the balls on each end.

“It takes a long time to heal. Like six months. You have to be really careful. You don’t want it to get infected. Shit, I can’t believe I did this without talking to you about it—Maddox.”

I grab her and pull her onto my lap so she’s straddling me. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” I say, and then I pull her mouth to mine. My chest throbs like a bitch. It has nothing on the desire I feel for her right now.

She doesn’t pull back as I take her lips. She shudders and there’s a little bit of pride in me that likes that. She’s rock-steady while working, but I made her shake.