I might have wanted to grab hold of this opportunity, but a part of me felt like I was disrespecting Oliver for even considering moving on. I bounced between feeling guilty and being angry, and all of it directed at the only person I couldn’t take it out on. It infected a part of my heart that had belonged to the boy who’d sworn to protect me—except he hadn’t protected me from himself.
Maddison grew frustrated because we hadn’t found a place that I had fallen in love with yet. I was pretty sure that he believed that if the house were perfect, it would tip my decision in his favour. I’d hoped that looking to the future might kill the tension that hung over us, but it only grew. Stolen glances and stilted conversations accompanied each house viewing, and it built the electricity between us.
There was one last place on our list to visit, and it had only just hit the market. The biggest benefit was that it was within our price range.
“Come on, Grace,” Maddison shouted from the window of the car. It was a scorching day. So hot that the air burnt my lungs as I breathed it in. My t-shirt dress had stuck to my skin the moment I stepped out into the sunshine, and the wave of heat pushed me back as I opened Maddison’s car door. The air conditioning only seemed to circulate the warm air, but at least it was only five minutes to the other side of the village.
This property was already the favourite of my mum’s. She’d been quizzing me about every place we saw, wanting to know where it was before any other details, and if it was close, all the better in her view.
We pulled up to the drive of the postage-stamp-sized house—a semi-detached, which couldn’t have been more than a two-up and two-down. The agent was at the front door, looking flustered and ready to call it a day. The scrap of grass at the front had a small path leading up to the front step.
“Hi, we’ll go right in. Cooler inside, right.” The agent opened up, and we followed as best we could. Maddison barely made it through the door—his shoulders were so wide. To the left was a small lounge-come-dining room, and to the right, little more than a galley kitchen.
Stairs opposite the front door twisted around to the upstairs where there were two bedrooms. Just. And a bathroom. I peered around all of the rooms and tried to imagine my own furniture and possessions in place, planning in my head. To my surprise, the images in my mind brought a smile to my face. The house was small; there was no getting around that fact, but it was quaint, in a way, and in much better condition than some of the others we’d visited. If we wanted to give this a go, this was the best we’d seen by far.
Having come from a modest home, I knew it wouldn’t be too hard to adjust to the limited space. But Maddison’s home was massive. He was going to have to have a serious clear out to squeeze all of his stuff into this space.
“Do you accept pets?” I called down from upstairs, looking out at the small back garden: a strip of grass, three fences and stepping-stones to a washing line. We might be able to fit a couple of friends round for a barbeque—if we took the washing line down.
Bob was usually a house cat—he hardly ventured out of my room and was more than content snuggling on a sunbathed cushion. He was coming with me, so if the agent said no, that would be our answer.
“Cats, yes, dogs, no.”
“That’s fine.”
“So, what do you think?” Maddison came out of the smaller of the two bedrooms.
“It’s small,” I stated, although, now we were here, it was the first place I’ve felt even mildly excited about, I didn’t want to lose out. This was the only house we’d seen that I could really see working out for us.
“I know. But, unless you can chip in more, this is our budget.”
“I’m a waitress picking up shifts between Uni. More would be pushing it. I don’t want to ask Mum for any handouts.”
“As soon as I’m earning more, we can find a bigger place. I promise, but we can make this work. At least for a year, then we can see where we are.” His brown eyes sparked with the excitement he was trying hard to contain. The genuineness reminded me of how much of a free spirit Mads could be, especially when we were growing up. He was trying not to make a big deal out of this decision, but it was a big deal—for both of us.
Watching him try to contain his excitement, with my own fizzing through my veins, I couldn’t keep the smile from my face any longer.
“Okay, then. Let’s do it.”
Maddison eyed me and tilted his head to the side. “Really? Don’t fool with me, Grace.”
“Really.” I grinned at him. “I don’t want to miss out on this.”
He stepped into me, and for a split second, I thought he was going to kiss me again. He didn’t, but he swept me from my feet and spun me on the spot. Any farther and we’d have crashed through one of the plaster walls.
My giggles of joy took me by surprise, but bathed me in a true sense of happiness, the first I’d felt in a while.
“We’ll take it. It’s ready now, right?” He called down, and I realised how rude we were being. I nodded towards the stairs, and we both headed down and assembled at the bottom of the steps.
“Sure. Just cover the deposit and the forms, and you can be in at the weekend,” the agent explained to Mads.
“Taken care of. We’re all set.”
“Okay, then.” She motioned towards the front door. Our cue to leave.
We waited on the doorstep, the reality of what we’d just agreed to, sinking in.
“Better get planning. We’re moving at the weekend, Grace.” The smile on his face was enough to melt me into a puddle in the middle of winter, let alone on one of the hottest days of the year.
“Can you cook? Please say your mum taught you how to recreate her lasagne?”
“I have a week. I’m sure I can learn.” His smile turned sexy and dangerous, and I moved my gaze before I was pulled in too deep.
I looked back at the house and knew that this was the right call. Second-guessing wasn’t getting me anywhere, and I was overdue some happiness.
Mum was a mix of giddy excitement and anxious stalker for the week of our move. She constantly asked what she could do to help, checking on everything I could possibly need and making me up little care-packages, and I hadn’t even moved out. She acted as if I would be hundreds of miles away, not a five-minute journey to the other side of the village.
Mads sorted all the heavy lifting, which I was thankful for. All I had to do was pack up my belongings and get Bob ready to move. It was going to be a squeeze to fit everything into the shoebox I was moving into, but the room was more than just the space. It was the first steps to my independence—finally doing something for me.
Of course, it had to be hotter than hell the day we had to move everything in. As much as I wanted to help, I was pretty rubbish at lifting the big-ticket items. Mads told me to wait until after lunchtime to come up to the house. He’d collected the furniture from my room the night before with a friend I’d never met before.
I loaded Mum’s car with the rest of my things, leaving Bob behind until we were all in. As I arrived, I spotted Mads sitting on the back of the moving van, his shirt off and his sweat-drenched skin glistening in the afternoon sun, and a bottle of beer in his hand as he leaned forward on his knees. It was one hell of a welcome. It suddenly hit me that we were potentially going to see each other in a lot more situations like this.
Messed up hair from the night before.
Just showered.
Topless.
I shook away the images dancing in my mind. I didn’t need anything to add to my rising temperature.
“Hey.” I went over to greet him and checked on what he wanted me to help with.
“Hey, yourself. We’re about done with the big stuff. I sent Leo home, so we should be able to finish up. Your room’s all ready for your things.”
“Great. I’ll go and start.” I gestured to my mum behind at the car, but he snagged my hands before I moved away.
“It’s going to be great. I promise.”
I looked up into his eyes and saw both determination and fear.
“I know. Don’t worry.” I squeezed his hand. “I wouldn’t have agreed if I wasn’t sure of this. Relax.”
It took Bob exactly two days to go back to normal after moving in. He hid in my room for a day. Then ventured out, worked out where his food and temporary litter tray was, before heading back to my bedroom and staying put.
I wished I could have said the same for me. While I loved that this was now our home, I didn’t feel as settled as Bob. Or Mads.
Over the next few weeks, I saw first-hand how hard Mads worked. He was up and out of the house before I was awake, leaving the place to me unless I was at Uni. And he was often out in the evenings working as well. I chose to ignore that, hoping it wasn’t at the fight club. I’d find myself checking for bruising when we did see each other but saw no marks or damage.
Considering we shared a house, we hardly saw one another. I had hoped we’d be able to spend more time together, watch TV, trying cooking, or simply hanging out. But it wasn’t like that. I wondered why Maddison kept himself so busy and how he wasn’t dead on his feet all the time. He made me tired just thinking of all the work he did. It certainly deflated my expectations of what living together would be.
“Hey.” I stopped on the stairs watching Mads shove his feet into his shoes, ready to go out by the looks of it. “Will you be back later?”
“Yeah, maybe late.”
I nodded. “If you’re in tomorrow, I was thinking about giving a lasagne a try. I’m missing your mum’s.”
“Sure. That’d be good. See you later.” The door shut behind him and left me with the hollow silence of the four walls around me.
I wanted to kick myself. I was putting all my happiness on someone else—the habit of a lifetime. Surely, I’d learned my lesson by now?
The kitchen looked like a bomb had exploded. Pans covered the limited surface areas, and the sink was piled with yet more dirty dishes. But there was that familiar aroma of garlic and rich goodness that made me feel so happy.
“Oh, boy, that smells good.” Maddison leaned on the door jam, having just walked in.
“Well, fingers crossed. Your mum makes this look easy.”
“I’ll just go and wash up.”
“Sure.” I felt like I needed a lie down before dinner. Making all the components of the dish from scratch was a personal accomplishment, and didn’t that say something about my life?
Ten minutes later, with the timer on the oven buzzing frantically, Mads re-appeared at the door, his hair damp from a shower, and yet another t-shirt protesting at the strain over his muscles.
“Go and sit. I’ll bring it through. There’s plenty to keep even your appetite in check.”
“Is that a challenge,” he called.
“We’ll see.”
I placed the dish in the middle of the small table that served as our study-come dining table and scooped the biggest portion onto Maddison’s plate.
“This smells just like Mum’s.”
“That’s the plan. Although, I think it was you that was meant to be cooking,” I jested, remembering our conversation before we moved in.
“Fair point. Okay, I’ll be the one to destroy the kitchen next time.” He shot a sideways grin at me.
“Oi, it was my first time.”
He turned the grin into a full, beaming smile, and it turned my stomach upside down. I’d missed Maddison since we’d move in, and right now, sitting across from me, he looked so damn sexy.
We both dug in, and for my first attempt, I was impressed. It wasn’t quite the same as we’d been enjoying at the Ray’s forever, but it was a good impression. Maddison devoured his plateful and looked at the dish longingly.
“Go on,” I offered, warmth spreading through me at the simple satisfaction of cooking something he liked.
“Thanks. I’m starving. And I need to bulk up some more.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. And I need to ask you something again.”
I already knew what it was going to be before the words were out of his mouth. There was an edge to his words that gave away the fact that I wouldn’t like what was coming.
“I have another fight in a couple of weeks, and I need you there again.” He spoke between mouthfuls as if this was just a simple request that I’d happily acquiesce to. As far as I was concerned, I hated that Maddison was still involved in fighting at all and wanted nothing to do with it. Especially as last time, it ended with Oliver leaving.
For good.
No matter which way I looked at it, the fight that night had pushed Oliver away, and I’d pushed my feelings for Oliver away, rejecting them as he’d rejected me by leaving.
The warmth of a moment ago chilled in my blood and a tickle of resentment flickered through me, but I pushed that away, too. We were where we were, and nothing now would change that.
“You know how I feel about all that. Please don’t make me go back. Alone.”
He finished up and dropped his cutlery on the plate. “I need you there. You know this.”
“You say you do, but then you don’t even consider my feelings.” I started clearing the plates, shoving them on top of the mountain clogging the sink already. I tilted my head to the ceiling and closed my eyes, searching for some inner strength to have this conversation again.
“All you have to do is be there for me. You’re not in any danger. No one will touch you, I promise,” he shouted from the other room.
“I don’t understand why you feel you still need to do this?” I stood at the edge of the door, struggling to go through this again.
“And I don’t understand why we have to argue over this. Come to the club, let me see you, like always, and then I’ll take you home.” He stood as if this was the end of the conversation.
“Like last time? You were swallowed up by all the events, and I didn’t see you for days.”
“It will be different. I promise.”
“Why don’t I believe that?” My voice broke, mirroring the defeat that I felt rising within me.
“Have I ever let you down before?” He lifted my head and forced me to look at him. “I’m always here. For you. I’d never leave you, Grace. Never.”
I knew he wasn’t talking about the fight. His words brought pinpricks to my eyes, and I blinked them away before he could see my tears.
“You think he’s the only one who loves you? He’s not. And what he did was a shitty move.” He growled the last part out, but it didn’t hide what he’d said. His declaration made this so much harder.
“I don’t want to fight with you.” I sounded defeated. How was I supposed to be mad at him when he told me things like this?
He pulled me into his hold, and I went willingly, happy to hide against his chest and feel the contact between us.
“And you don’t want me to fight either. I’ve made it clear how I feel. Come or not, it won’t stop me.” He kissed the top of my head and released me. “Leave the dishes. I’ll sort them when I’m back.”
With that, he went, slamming the door behind him, and leaving me a crumpled mess on the living room floor.
Chapter 17
Maddison 19 Years Old
Great.
Just, fucking great.
It had only taken a month for us to have our first fight, and I’d stormed off and left, after telling her I fucking loved her. Could I have screwed this up any more? I slammed my hands down on the steering wheel and tried to calm down. How could the girl I’d loved for fucking ever, bring me to the point of madness so easily? It was like her superpower over me.
Drive me to distraction—check—and then some.
And living together, which I thought was going to magically solve all of my problems, only made them worse. Because now I’d got to witness the sadness that Oliver had put there. I thought I’d be the one to make her happy, to make her forget, but that plan wasn’t working.
“Argh!” I hit the wheel again and knew that noth
ing would get rid of the pent-up fury. Hell, nothing did. But at least in the ring, I could channel it. Bring all the rage and hate that had been festering over the days and weeks, and direct it at someone that wasn’t me.
I turned the ignition and headed off, knowing that the gym was probably the only option at the moment, besides fucking someone I had no desire to. Sex was complicated, and my head didn’t need that shit right now.
All the drive had done was wind me up even more. I grabbed my spare kit from the backseat and hit the gym. It was under new management and now operated twenty-four-seven. That suited me because I could show up whenever I needed to, and since being in the same house as Grace, that was a fucking lot.
Zuri, as ever, was already in the weights room.
“Hey, my man,” he greeted me, although he didn’t look too pleased to see me. “Don’t over-train. Important fight. You need to be fit. Not tired, you know this.”
“I won’t go hard,” I lied. I had to get the row with Grace out of my system.
“You are bad liar.”
I shrugged and walked over to start my warm-up. Although I felt like I needed to attack something to release this… this… storm inside of me, it calmed once I began to hit my stride. With every rep, every muscle ache, I pictured her face, saw her tears, and it only made me push harder. She had the unique ability to make me the strongest I’d ever felt yet bring me to my knees. And I could do nothing but love her.
“You ready for next fight?” Zuri came and asked me. He should fucking know.
“Sure. I’ll be there.”
“Good. This one will be a test. Make sure you bring your lucky charm.”
I was up off the bench with my fist gripping his t-shirt before I’d realised I’d moved. “What did you say?”
“Relax. Save it for the ring. But don’t think we don’t see her. You bring her, but she only stays if you keep winning.”
“Whatever, man. See you at the fight.”
I hung out at the bar for a while, killing time before heading home. I wasn’t ready to face Grace yet, so I gave her a little longer to fall asleep. As midnight rolled around, I pulled up outside and killed the engine. Unlocking the door, I crept in, noticing all but the hall light was off. The smell of Italian food hung in the air, and I felt like an arse for ruining the evening. The dishes were still waiting for me at least, so I set my idle hands to good work.
The Two Halves of my Heart: A Friends-to-Lovers Romance Page 14