The groan I emitted was loud and positively indecent. Garrett’s hands had come to rest on my shoulders, and he was kneading them in a way that might have been more pleasurable than his touches from the night before. Okay, that wasn’t true, but holy magic fingers.
“You’re so tense, Maddie. It’ll be all right, it’s not like you live far. We can go over there as soon as you’re ready.”
He was right, I knew he was right, but the thought of Jamie finding out I’d stayed here prevented me from relaxing. Garrett’s thumbs slid down to massage my lower back, and that had me straightening to a rod. I was naked. I was butt ass naked.
Un-pretzel-ing myself from him, I leapt off the bed, crossing my arms over my chest as my head whipped left to right, searching for my clothes.
“Maddie.”
I ignored him. Ignored his cute nickname and sexy morning hair. If I looked at him, I’d melt like I always did, and I’d never get out the door. In the span of one night, I’d had unprotected sex and slept at a man’s house—regardless of how close it was—and didn’t think twice about setting an alarm, myself. Not only could I have been late to work, but I would’ve left Layla to handle getting Jamie to school.
Finding my shirt, I snatched it up, roughly shoving my head through. This was why I didn’t date. I needed structure, I needed boundaries and rules. I wasn’t sixteen anymore, I couldn’t be this irresponsible.
“Maddie, look at me.”
“I can’t, I need to go. I need to shower and get ready and get Jamie to school.”
“I’ll help you, just slow down.”
He lowered his long legs to the floor, and I twisted farther away, refusing to allow myself to indulge in his deliciously naked form. “I don’t need help; I just need to find my damn pants.”
A heavy sigh sounded behind me. “Maybe I’m wrong, but that sounds like you could use a little help then.”
“No, I don’t,” I snapped. I cringed, hating myself for taking out my anxiety on him. It wasn’t his fault I was here. I’d walked over on two very willing legs. But I had a tendency to get angry as a defense mechanism when I was emotional.
“You’re overreacting a little bit, don’t you think?”
I didn’t reply, finally spotting my underwear and pants near the door and charging for them. How did I explain that this scenario was exactly what I’d feared? That this was one of the reasons I’d tried to hold him at a distance?
I’d spent my entire life giving up things for other people, and the thought of depending on someone, of falling in so deep that I forgot about my responsibilities, scared me.
I yanked my pants up, already aiming for the door when a hand wrapped around my bicep.
“Goddammit, Maddie, wait a minute. Let me get dressed, and I’ll help you.”
I turned to him, blinking back my shame and the burning in my eyes. “I don’t need your help; I just need to go home.”
He’d only had a chance to slip on boxers, and he was standing there staring at me with a look of determination. But underneath, I sensed a sliver of disappointment, and my heart twisted.
“I know you don’t. You could take over the world without a lick of help, and I’d watch from the sidelines, rooting you on, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it. You’re making excuses so you can tuck yourself back into your shell. Don’t do that, don’t act like last night didn’t happen.”
A tear slipped free, and I dashed it away angrily. I hated that I cried when I was overwhelmed. “Last night did happen, and it was amazing, Garrett. But I can’t be the type of person to have an unplanned sleepover without even thinking about the child I have to get to school in the morning.”