“Does he know?”
“No,” I can hear the shame painting that one heavy word. I’m not proud of myself for keeping this from Asher, and knowing that another person knows my secret and he still doesn’t drives home that pain.
“Are you okay?”
This side of Maddox, this caring, emotional side, is such a shock that I don’t speak at first. I’ve never, not once, seen this side. It’s no secret to anyone, even me though I’m new to this group, that Maddox holds his cards close and his pain even closer. There’s always been a cloud over him. Like his own personal hell just simmers too close to the surface for him to be anything but closed off. And knowing that he can see right through me is slightly terrifying and reassuring at the same time.
I’m not alone.
“Chelcie, how are you doing with this?” His eyes look . . . scared. Whether it’s for me, Asher, or whatever personal hell is chasing him, I’m not sure.
“I’m getting there, Mad. I’m worried, but not for me. I’m ready for this, excited even. It isn’t the way I imagined it happening, but I really am happy. I just . . . Well, you know, I don’t know how he will handle this. I’m not a slut.”
I’m not sure why I felt the need to throw that in there, but to me, it’s important that he doesn’t think I’m easy. I don’t just sleep around, and even though what happened between Coop and me could arguably make me a slut in a lot of people’s eyes, I don’t regret a second of it.
“I didn’t think you were, girl,” he says, his eyes losing that lost look, and he reaches out to pull me into a hug.
I let my arms curl around his back and hold on tight to his shoulders, soaking up every ounce of strength he’s offering.
The muscles in his back ripple and roll under my fingertips when he brings his head down and rests his lips against my temple. We stand like that for a few minutes before he dips his head lower and whispers against my ear.
“You’re never alone. Don’t for one second think that. You shouldn’t be worried, scared, or afraid right now. This is a time in your life that you should be smiling that beautiful smile every second of every day. It’s not going to be easy, but you’re not alone. This baby will be loved, I promise you that. Asher needs to know, Chelcie. He needs that. And if you need someone there when that happens, you just say the words.” He pulls up, places another kiss on the top of my head, and with a small squeeze, walks away.
I stand there with tears in my eyes just begging to spill over, and I smile—a genuine smile—for the first time in weeks. I think I’ve always known that I wasn’t exactly alone, but to have someone I hardly know strip me bare emotionally and address every worry I’ve had since my baby’s father was murdered brings a kind of peace that I didn’t know I needed. A safety that I didn’t know I was lacking until this moment.
Deciding that I need a moment to collect myself before returning to the group, I quickly make my way into the bathroom to clean my face up—completely oblivious to the furious eyes that just watched that whole scene unravel.
CHAPTER 8
Asher
I can’t even explain the fury that is racing through my veins right now. After dealing with Pammy, my mood was already deteriorating. But after seeing Maddox with his arms wrapped tightly around Chelcie’s luscious body and his lips against her creamy skin, what little control I had left snapped.
She’s mine.
She doesn’t know that yet, but I’m not going to sit back and let Maddox have her.
The small, rational part of my mind that isn’t clouded in a red-hot rage right now is trying to remind me that I have no claim over Chelcie. Not only that, but everyone knows that Maddox only has eyes for Emmy. I should recognize that there is not one thread of a reason for me to be this jealous, but I’m already too far gone to listen to that nonsense.
The only thing that matters is what I just witnessed. MY woman in the arms of Maddox Locke. MY woman holding him back just as tight. And MY woman with a smile on her beautiful face that could light up even the darkest caves in Hell.
Hell. No.
With a single-minded determination, I set off towards the women’s bathroom I just saw her duck into. It’s time to let her know exactly where my head is at, and I’m sick of this avoiding game she’s been playing lately.
“You.” I point to the waitress who just came out of the bathroom that holds my woman inside. “Is there anyone else other than the blonde woman wearing jeans and a white shirt in there?”
She shakes her head slowly, her jaw slack and her eyes wide.
“Does that door lock?”
She again just nods her head.