Right before I nod off, I throw out the only lifeline I have left.  “We all have baggage, Maddox.  I wish that you could understand that I’m not asking for perfection.  What you fail to realize is that I have two arms just begging for you to let me help you carry that baggage.”

His arm tightens almost painfully and his body goes solid.  It takes him a minute of loud inhalations before his body relaxes again.

“Goodnight, Emmy.”

“Goodnight, Maddox.”

Chapter 11—Emmy

“I swear to Christ, Asher, if you lost her again, I’m going to kick your fucking ass.  Yeah, I get that you have things going on.  No.  I’ll be home in a few days and you better have my shit in order and her sitting like a queen on my couch.”

My eyes snap open and I zero my stare in on where he’s standing and looking out the window.  Who the hell is he talking about?

“Don’t give me that shit, Asher.  Yeah, what the fuck ever.”  He’s silent as he listens to whatever Asher is saying to him, and after a few more clipped responses, he ends the call and tosses his phone on the desk.  Turning his face gives nothing away when he realizes that I’ve been watching him.

I shake my head when I realize that this is how he’s going to play it.  We’re back to stupid Emmy and silent Maddox.

After throwing back the sheet, I move to stand in front of him.  His eyes flash for the briefest of moments before he schools his expression.  Well, at least we know he isn’t indifferent to my nude body.

“What am I supposed to wear?” I ask in a tone that oozes sarcasm.

He doesn’t speak.  Instead, he moves around my body and grabs a bag off the floor behind me.  Then he holds it out to me.  I keep looking into his eyes, watching the deep, dark brown remain expression and emotionless.

“Right.  When you’re ready to use your big-boy words, maybe we can continue this playdate.”

I reach up to take the bag, but before my fingertips can wrap around the strap, he lets it fall to the floor.  I watch it fall, taking my eyes off him, and before I can rip him a new one, I’m pressed against his clothed body and his lips are dueling with mine.  After kissing the wind out of my sails, he releases me, bends, grabs the bag, and once again holds it in my direction.

I snatch the bag from him and stomp into the bathroom, childishly slamming the door behind me—just because I can.

Once I throw my long hair into a messy bun, I open the bag to find my own clothes.  My brow creases as I try to come up with a logical reason to explain why he would have my own things—things I know I didn’t pack when I left town.  I quickly get dressed, throwing on a pair of yoga pants and T-shirt.  When I exit the room, he is still standing by the window, his hands pushed into his pockets and his posture almost relaxed—something that is rarely seen with him.

“How did you get my clothes?”

“Grabbed them when I got Cat.”  He doesn’t turn, so I have to quickly turn my shocked expression into some verbal response to that news.

“And why did you have Cat?”

“Because you ran.  Someone needed to take care of her.”

“Yeah?  That someone was Melissa.  Cohen was going to babysit for a while,” I snap back.  I’m primed for a fight now.

“Don’t make me kiss that sass right out of your mouth, Emersyn.  A lot happens when you’re gone for a little over a month.  Melissa had an accident.  Everyone is okay now, but for a while, there was a lot of unknown.  Part of the reason it took me so long to get to you was because I needed to go back home and help out while Greg was at the hospital with Melissa and the twins.”

His words take my fight and squash it.  Just like that, he knocks me down a few pegs.  Melissa, out of all the girls, I connected the most with.  Our friendship is one of the many things I’ve missed since I ran.  I called her after I left my letter with Axel to ask her to grab my cat, but I’ve been so busy living in my own head that I haven’t even called her since.

“She okay?  The girls?”  I beseech, desperate to know that they’re okay.

“They’re fine now.  You need to call her.  She’s worried about you—they all are.”

I can’t respond to him.  My mind is racing at just how much I have let the people who have come to be my family down.  Very briefly, the thought crosses my mind that, if Coop hadn’t run into me all those years ago, their lives would be so much better, but I quickly dismiss it.   There is a reason for everything, and as unjust as it is, he was meant to come into my life—even if it was the beginning of the end for him.