He stripped off his shirt, shoved a pair of sneakers on his bare feet, and headed for the machine. He started with a slow jog to warm up, then changed the setting and picked up the pace, determined to run every thought right out of his head. He wasn’t sure how long he’d run, didn’t care. The burn in his leg muscles felt damn good, and he could have kept going if not for the dry voice that sounded from behind him.
“You’re going to break the machine if you keep at that pace.”
Break it, no, but he did almost stumble off the thing like a total loser. He steadied himself at the last second, quickly changed the setting, then slowed down and got off the treadmill. As he collected himself, he spotted Maddie standing in the doorway. For the first time in days, she was actually wearing jeans, but they were tighter than the ones she normally wore, and were accompanied by a snug, blue tank top that hugged her firm breasts. Her hair was loose, falling over one shoulder, and there was a flush on her cheeks and a sheen of sweat on her collarbone. She must have walked over here—Maddie was the only person he knew who didn’t own a car.
“I got your messages,” she spoke up, a smile lifting the corners of her lush mouth. “All seventeen of them.”
He felt a pang of embarrassment. “I was anxious to talk to you.”
“Yeah, I got that.” She walked over to the black leather couch and flopped down, resting her long legs on his glass coffee table. “So, let’s talk.”
Her matter-of-fact tone made him gulp, though it didn’t surprise him. Of course Maddie would get right to the point. After a few seconds of hesitation, he sat next to her, swiping his hand over his forehead to soak up some of the workout sweat.
He shifted so that he was facing her and waited for her to speak. When she didn’t, he bit the bullet and said, “I’m sorry about the other night.”
“I’m not.”
Owen’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“I’m not sorry,” she answered with a shrug. “Truth is, I’ve wanted that to happen for a long time.”
One thing you could say about Maddie—she never failed to surprise him. Gaping, he searched her face and saw nothing but sincerity. “You have?”
“For a long time,” she repeated. Catching his shock, she let out a sigh. “Come on, Owen, don’t tell me you didn’t notice. I’ve had a thing for you since the day you hired me.”
He reached up to rub his temples, trying to make sense of what she was saying. She’d had a thing for him? For three years?
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he blurted out.
“Because you were too busy going out with all those airheads.” She flashed him a grin. “You have terrible taste in women, you know that?”
Because those “airheads” were the only type of woman who didn’t expect a relationship from him, he wanted to explain, but he kept the callous-sounding thought to himself. Although he talked to Maddie about plenty of things, his love life wasn’t one of them. I can’t commit to one woman because I’m easily bored wasn’t something you wanted to share with another person. It made him sound like a total dick.
“But I’m not going to pretend anymore,” Maddie continued, fixing him with a determined stare. “I wanted you that night, Owen. I still want you.”
He swallowed. “Maddie—”
“I ran off because I was embarrassed,” she confessed in a quiet voice. “You were right—the whole thing was new for me. I was nervous.”
He managed to get out another “Maddie” before she cut him off again.
“Did you really mean what you said? That we can’t get involved because we’re friends?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
“Well, I say it’s bullshit. In fact, I think we should get involved because we’re friends.”
She scooted closer, so that one of her firm thighs was pressed against his. His cock instantly rose to attention.
“You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy the other night,” she murmured as she placed her hand on his knee. “You were attracted to me.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “But—”
“No buts.” Her hand traveled to his thigh, then glided up his body, brushing his chest, his collar, and finally stroking his chin. “Let’s see this through, Owen.”
“We can’t,” he choked out, yet at the same time, he found himself leaning into her touch.
She traced her fingers along the line of his jaw. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. I won’t let you.”
The confidence ringing in her voice did nothing to soothe the doubts running through his brain. “My relationships never work out,” he said gruffly. “The last thing I want is for us to get involved only for it to end in disaster.”
“Your relationships don’t work out because you don’t let them,” she said bluntly. “I can’t figure out why you sabotage yourself, why you won’t let yourself be happy, but that’s a conversation for another time.” She leaned closer, and he could smell the sweet flowery scent of her shampoo. Her breath was warm against his ear as she whispered, “Right now, I just want to finish what we started the other night.”