Leo Maddox (20 page)

Things had been slow, easy, and nice last night, but now I needed rough. So I held her close and flipped us both so that I could be on top. Too many emotions were running crazily through my head. Once I was on top, I began slamming in and out of her. No longer able to hold a proper conversation, I spoke between ragged breaths. “Tell. Me. Please.”

“Because...” she gasped.

My movements continued as she struggled to answer. I don’t know why, but everything seemed a little better this morning. Like having sex in broad daylight made it more real somehow. And I liked that. My body climbed higher and higher even though I was still waiting on her answer. “Shit, Clara. Just answer me.”

“Because...” she rasped. “Because…I love you.”

What.

The.

Fuck?

Of anything she could have said I never would have expected that. A moment after those wonderful words left her lips, Clara screamed out as an orgasm rocked through her. Her fingers dug into my skin as she bit down against my shoulder, while I continued to fuck her hard. The way she came undone under me was nothing short of amazing.

The moment was so unexpected and so perfect, that I couldn’t help the way I followed. I felt my balls in my throat just before the first wave of pleasure raged through me too. Then another and another and another hit me, until I had nothing left to give. I stilled, my weight resting on top of her.

Wow.

Pulling out, I fell onto the bed beside her, exhausted and exhilarated all at once.

But Clara wasn’t quite so content. She scrambled out of my bed and started to dress as fast as possible. She hadn’t meant to tell me she loved me—that much was obvious. What I didn’t understand was why it was such a big deal that she did.

Because suddenly it was.

The way she trudged around my room, collecting her clothes from yesterday, yanking everything on at hyper speed…it was very clear that she’d become incredibly uncomfortable very fast.

“I have my lessons,” she mumbled as if it was some sort of an apology. She avoided my eyes like the plague. I was out of bed, watching her with my stomach in my throat. She’d calm down in a minute and realized she had nothing to fear. Right? I wasn’t sure. It was always hard to tell with Clara.

She had on everything else, but couldn’t seem to find her shirt. One arm covered her tits like a Band-Aid as she searched the floor. “Dad's going to kill me if I'm late again,” she groaned.

I took a calming breath. “You still have thirty minutes.”

“Have you seen my tank top? Or do you have some kind of shirt I can borrow? Like a white t-shirt or something?” Her voice was as ridged as her posture as she glared at me from across the room.

Shit. That wall of indifference of hers…it was back up.

My stomach turning to acid, I moved for my dresser. Opening a drawer I found her one of my white t-shirts. Taking it in my hand, I walked across the room to give it to her. She reached out, but as she grabbed for that damn shirt, my fingers wouldn’t let go.

God, now we were playing tug-o-war over a shirt.

Her eyes were fierce. “Give me the shirt, Leo.”

She won. I let go in an instant, adding, “It's not going to fit you.” My voice came out all gritty. I was never one to let emotions overcome me, but tears were threatening to swell in my eyes. I didn’t have the first fucking clue as to what I’d done wrong. Because this couldn’t be about her three little words. Whatever had set her off was more than that.

She yanked the shirt over her head and then dared a glance up at me. The look she gave me screamed
why you
? Like she was suddenly shocked to find herself in
my
bedroom of all places.

I reached up to touch her face, wanting to do something to ease all her fears. But my hand dropped away and something ferocious shot through my veins. Anger. It was a son of bitch and it hit me hard.

Clenching my jaw, trying not to say anything I would regret, I turned away from her to get dressed. I realized how naked I was standing in front of her and a small shiver of embarrassment ran through me. I didn’t bother with fresh clothes and instead put on my day-old clothes I found on the floor. “This is the part where I lose my temper,” I told her, my voice much more even and controlled than I felt on the inside. “We just spent a great night together—the best of my life—and now you're being ridiculous. Fucking ridiculous.”

“Don't call me ridiculous,” she spat back at me.

My eyes narrowed. “I call it like I see it, sweetheart. Is it really so terrifying to love me? If so, then go on—run off if that's what you have to do. But don't expect me to always chase after you when you pull this kind of bullshit.”

We stared at each other for several long heartbeats. Both of us falling right back into our usual roles.

“Whatever,” she shrugged, as if she didn’t give a shit. And honest to God, I couldn’t tell anymore if she was just protecting herself or if this unaffected hatred toward me was how she truly felt. “Bye, Leo.”

Without so much as a flinch or a tear or any indication that she felt as broken as I did, she turned and left my room.

And the second I heard the front door slam, I dropped to my knees.

CHAPTER 17:

I
t took me about ten minutes to realize that I shouldn’t have let Clara leave my house. Ten minutes I couldn’t get back. Ten minutes that would probably haunt me for the rest of my life. I decided that this wasn’t over between us—that it couldn’t be. That I wasn’t going to let it end so randomly and ridiculously. Yes, ridiculously. I hopped in my car and raced for the Pro Shop.

Clara wasn’t there. And worse, according to Mary Ann, she’d called about five minutes earlier and cancelled all her golf lessons over the next two weeks.

“This is so typical of Clara,” Mary Ann chirped, spinning around in her desk chair to wag her finger at me. “Maggie would never act so ungrateful. But Clara…I expected this from her.”

“Well, I didn’t,” I told her firmly. “And you should watch what you say about
either
of Reed’s daughters. It’s not smart to talk shit about the boss’s family. Unless you’re purposely trying to lose your job.”

Before she could respond, I turned and left the Pro Shop.

Now I was in a bad place. I struggled with all my addictions on a normal day—add a little turmoil to the mix and I became the person I hated most. My father had nothing on me.

And right now I craved something strong to take the edge off, something to make me forget. Having had Clara, however briefly, and then losing her…well, it was much worse than never having her at all. I knew that now. I wanted to hit or break something. My head was in a horrible place. And it was killing me inside knowing that Clara was probably hurting too—hurting because in her moment of weakness I’d been an asshole to her when that was the last thing she deserved.

Not trusting myself to be alone, I went straight to the Ryder house.

Maybe Clara would be there. I hoped like hell she would be there. But if she wasn’t than I needed to be around my family while I waited for her to come home. Because these people were my family. It occurred to me now, something I’d always known but never fully accepted, that they were more my family than my own blood. And I needed to just
be
around them right now, before I did something stupid.

“Morning,” I said to whoever was listening as I let myself into the Ryder house. I cut straight through the kitchen. There were people present, but my eyes didn’t even register who because I couldn’t function right now. “I'm going to go lie on your couch for a while. So, yeah, just ignore me.”

Disappearing as quickly as I’d appeared, I headed into the living room, automatically clicking on the TV. Not one second later, Maggie entered the room, standing at the foot of the couch I’d stretched out on.

“That had to have been your most dramatic entrance ever.” Her voice shook a little. “What are you doing on my couch?”

“Wallowing,” I mumbled, trying to focus on the TV. My whole idea about needing to be around other people suddenly seemed like a horrible idea. I was terrible company.

“What happened?”

I tried to swallow down the giant lump that had been stuck in my throat since Clara ran away from me. It didn’t go anywhere, so I gritted my teeth and talked through it. “Nothing I want to talk about,” I assured her.

“You're scaring me a little.”

“I'm peaches.”

Peaches was a code-word I used with Maggie. It meant “I’ll-pretend-I’m-fine-because-that’s-what-I’m-supposed-to-do-but-really-I’m-not-fine.” Clara had referenced this very word before she’d dumped beer on my head in the Alligator Lounge. And now that was the memory that clouded everything else. I deserved that beer dumping. I deserved all this too.

Maggie came around the couch and sat on the coffee table, blocking my view of the TV. I had no choice but to look at her. I gave her a look and she seemed to read my mind.

“Okay, fine,” she groaned. “If you don’t want to talk then I’ll talk first. There's something I need to tell you anyway. The last couple days, I thought I was in love with—”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Reed huffed, marching into the room before Maggie could confess she was probably still in love with Robby. I might have been glad for his interruption too if Reed didn’t look so terrified. He clutched his phone tightly in his hand. A woman—I can’t recall her name but she’d been working for Reed for years—came into the room behind him, her face as pale as Reed’s.

“I just got off the phone with Mary Ann at the Pro Shop,” Reed said, shaking his head.
Oh God, here it comes.
“Clara never showed up for her lessons. She did call, however, telling Mary Ann she was sorry she had to cancel
all of them
.”

Reed’s words permeated the air. “I'm trying to decide if I should be angry or worried.” His attention shifted to me. “Which is it, son?”

Shit. The distinct impression that Clara’s sudden disappearance this morning was more than temporary washed over me. She had issues with Maggie, issues with Reed, and issues with me. Maybe the way I forced her into admitting her feelings during sex was only a fraction of what sent her running.

I sat up, running one shaky hand through my hair, while the tension in the room grew so thick I could barely breathe. “Worried,” I muttered. Then I stood and walked away as fast as I could manage without running.

Fuck staying sober.

Halfway down her driveway, nearly to my car, I heard Maggie yelling after me. “Leo! Wait!”

I didn’t wait. “Not now, Mags!” I snapped, yanking open my car door.

“Yes, now!” she screamed, wrapping both of her small hands around one of my arms, pulling against my strength. Wow. I never knew polite Maggie could be so fierce. “You are NOT going to run off to get drunk or high or whatever it is you do when you
think
you can't handle your problems! I won't let you this time! I just won't!”

“I'm fine.”

“No, you aren't! Don't think I never notice all of your attempts to self-medicate because I do
—
constantly!
And do any of them ever work for you? No! So, please...don't go.”

Taking a deep breath, I stopped fighting her and closed my car door.

Someone else had noticed my
habits
. Clara had noticed and it seemed Maggie had too. That killed me. I hadn’t meant to drag other people into my problems.

I let out a sigh and wrapped my arms around Maggie. How many times had she used me as a shoulder to cry on when all her relationships went up in flames? And now our roles were suddenly reversed.

Several minutes passed before we broke apart. She glanced up at me tentatively.

“What happened?” she whispered.

I guess I needed to tell her everything now. “When we were in New York, Clara asked me to prove to her I wasn't an ass. She wanted to let me in and I think maybe she did. And the first chance she gave me to prove myself, I ruined everything—story of my fucking life. Why is it that I can't control my temper around her?”

Mags gave me a small smile. “Because you love her. We all do stupid things when we're in love.”

“Then I must be the biggest moron there ever was.”

She suddenly burst out laughing. “You and me both. Dean shows back up, confusing the heck out of me, and the last couple days I somehow convinced myself I was in love with
you!
Omigosh!”

“Me?” I demanded. “What?”

“Yes, you.” Still laughing, she rested her hands on her knees as if to catch her breath. “I was even going to kiss you to try to figure out who I liked more, you or him. If that's not moronic, then I don't know what is.” Her laughter died as she finished her sentence.

Um? Okay. Wasn’t expecting that. And now I was seriously confused and dazed, bewildered and shocked.

“So, you don't love me then?” I asked, terrified out of my ever-loving mind.

“No. Sorry, not like that.”

I let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank the fucking Lord.”