“What do you mean, not himself?”
I felt guilty talking to Nash about this. J wasn’t a huge fan of Nash’s so I didn’t feel it was right to talk about our problems with him. In the past, I hadn’t shared specific problems with Nash; I’d just talked in general terms about men.
Nash was a perceptive man and picked up on my hesitation. “He’s not giving you the cock you need?”
“God, Nash.” I shook my head at his phrasing.
“What? I’m wrong?”
Again, I hesitated. J would be livid if he knew I was having this conversation.
“So, I’m right. What’s his problem? If you were my woman, you’d never go without my cock, and you’d be fucking assured that it’d be the best damn sex you’d ever had.”
I had to smile at his words this time; so confident and self assured. I liked that in a man. “Tell me, if you did have a woman, what would cause you to stop putting out?”
He chuckled. “I’ll answer that but let’s be clear, that would never fucking happen. The only thing that would stop me would be if the connection was broken.”
I sat there stunned. Nash, flirty Nash who had sworn off relationships, had probably just hit the nail on the head and I would never have expected that from him. I leaned closer to him and half whispered, “What else do you have tucked away in your heart that you’re hiding from the world?”
He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he leaned even closer to me so that our faces were now inches apart, and whispered back, “Everything. There’s no need to spread that shit around.” He pulled back away and continued, his voice louder now, “But you, sweet thing, have a fucking way of getting in there, so take what I tell you and use it to fix your shit. One of us should benefit from my demons.”
Warmth spread through me. This was a rare glimpse into Nash. He kept himself hidden and locked away; I’d always known that, but slowly he was revealing himself to me. I wondered how long it would take to drag the demons from his soul. I touched his arm lightly and smiled at him. “I wish you’d show your real self to more people. There’s a beautiful soul in there, I can tell. Thank you for that.”
He stood up abruptly, his face darkening. “This is the real me, babe. Don’t fucking mistake me; I’m the bastard you’ve always known.”
I looked up at him and shook my head. “No, I don’t believe that.”
“Believe what you want, Madison, but don’t delude yourself. I am who I am,” he muttered before turning to leave. He took a couple of steps and then turned back to me to add, “Like your new hair by the way; suits you.”
I gave him a huge smile. I’d added some highlights to my hair and had it layered two days ago and J hadn’t noticed. That had hurt. “Thanks, Nash,” I said.
He nodded and then he left me to sit and mull over everything he’d said. I must have sat there for ten minutes or so thinking about it before coming to the conclusion that Nash was right; my connection with J was off. Now I just had to work out if it was because of life getting in the way or if there was something deeper that needed fixing.
Chapter 3
Madison
“We’re going out next Friday, right? Girls night.” I was at Harlow’s cafe and said this to her as she passed me my morning coffee.
She grinned at me. “Hell, yeah”
I drank some of my coffee before confiding, “Thank God. You have no idea how much I need a girl’s night.”
“What’s wrong, honey?”
I didn’t hold back; I’d been keeping this bottled up for too long and needed to talk to her about it. “It’s J. He’s pulling away from me and our sex life has gone to shit.”
“Wow, really? You and J having problems in the bedroom; never thought that day would come.”
“I know!” I blurted out. “But we are, and I hate it. I need to fix it so you have to tell me how.”
She laughed. “Why me? I’m far from a sex therapist. Trust me, I’ve had a lot of dud lays in my life.”
I shook my head. “No, our problems aren’t that the sex is bad, because it’s not. We have great sex, awesome fucking sex, and that’s why I need more. I need to know how to fix our connection and you’re good at working out people, so you need to work out what J’s problem is.”
“I still hardly know J. He’s distant and I can’t get a handle on him.” She had that thoughtful Harlow look in her eye so I knew she was thinking about it now. That was good; I had faith that she could help me crack this.
“Yeah, he’s slowly becoming more and more distant,” I agreed.
“You know, whenever your Dad is around or the conversation involves him, J retreats into his moody, pissed off self. It’s like he doesn’t want a bar of Marcus.”
“He doesn’t. He’s told me that.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Why? I mean, apart from the obvious, is there something else going on with those two?”