Too Hard to Resist (Wherever You Go)

by Bielman, Robin

  I’ve just managed to get my eyes fixed on the sway of Madison’s ponytail when out of nowhere she goes down.

  “Ow!” she cries out, but no one else hears her over the singing. She rolls onto her butt, holding her left leg at the knee.

  I immediately kneel down to help her. “What happened? You okay?”

  “I twisted my ankle and hit my knee on the way down.”

  The guide notices we’re not following and directs Drake to continue leading while she hurries to us. Of course that leads all eyes to Madison and the group stops, like any tight-knit team would.

  “I’m okay,” Madison says, sounding embarrassed. “Please keep going and we’ll catch up.”

  “You sure?” Drake calls.

  “Positive!”

  “Can I take a look?” the guide asks, lifting her backpack off and unzipping it.

  Madison nods and pulls up her legging to expose her ankle. “It’s just a twist.”

  The guide puts on protective gloves, then, with a gentle touch, examines Madison. “Does that hurt?”

  “A little.”

  “It could be a sprain. Walking down the mountain is harder than walking up, so I think you should definitely turn around here. Let me call for someone to come help you down.” She pulls out her radio.

  “No need. I’ve got her,” I say.

  “Elliot, you should—”

  “It’s not up for discussion,” I interrupt. Like hell I’m letting anyone else help her. Sure, if it was something serious, but I can manage this.

  “Are you sure?” the guide asks me.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, let’s get you up,” she says to Madison.

  I take one arm, the guide the other, and we help Madison to her feet.

  “Can you put any pressure on it?” The guide lets go of Madison to lift her backpack off the ground.

  Madison takes a tentative step. “A little, yes.”

  There’s no need for her to put any pressure on it. I scoop her into my arms. I’ve got a good seventy-five pounds on her, most of it muscle, and can carry her downhill no problem.

  “Elliot! What are you doing?”

  “We’re good,” I tell the guide. “Thank you.”

  She smiles, whether it’s because I said thanks or because I’ve swept Madison off her feet, I’m not sure. Maybe both. “Put some ice on it when you get back to the resort and try to stay off it for the rest of the day.”

  “She will.”

  “I can answer for myself,” Madison grumbles. “I will. Thanks.”

  The guide jogs back up the mountain while we walk down. Madison loops her arms around my neck. Her Wint O Green Life Savers breath fans the side of my neck. She loves the hard candy. I do, too, now. “You should be with everyone else, not me,” she says.

  “No. I shouldn’t. I take care of what’s mine.”

  “I’m not yours.”

  “You’re my assistant. Ergo, my responsibility.” It’s way more than my duty, but I can’t say that out loud. I can’t feel it. I can’t think about it. But I can act on it, at least in this scenario.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t see the pothole.”

  “There’s no reason to be sorry. If anything I should be thanking you for getting me out of more singing.”

  She giggles. “You do kind of suck.”

  “Oh yeah? Just for that I’m going to sing all the way down the mountain.”

  She vigorously shakes her head. “No, no. Please don’t.”

  I open my mouth to belt out something, but she presses her palm to my lips to stop me. I’m reminded of my lips on other parts of her and my dick twitches. I close my mouth. She withdraws her hand, looks away.

  Holding her like this, laying claim, and enjoying it, probably wasn’t my smartest move, but when it comes to Madison, I can’t stop myself.

  “If you’re getting tired of holding me, I can walk.”

  “I’m not tired.” And even if I get there, I’m not letting her put any weight on that ankle until we’re back at the hotel so she can ice it.

  “Okay.” She lays her head on my shoulder. For a moment, the gesture makes my legs weak. Having her relax in my arms and trust that I’ve got her feels like I’ve won something rare.

  A few hikers pass us on their way up the mountain, and a few more pass us on the downslide. Several people ask if we’re okay. I tell them yes. Then a large group, all wearing navy blue shirts and running, comes into view. There’s a medic symbol on the front top left corner of their clothing. As their heavy footfalls and deeper breaths get closer, Madison’s head pops up.

  “You good?” The guy leading the pack asks us.

  “Yes, thanks,” Madison says. “Hey, I wonder if…” She trails off because she can stop wondering the same thing I was the second I saw the troupe—Brooks is right there in the middle of the pack.

  He stops. “I’ll catch up,” he says to the person behind him. “Hey, fancy seeing you here. Are you okay?”

  Madison tells him what happened. I tell him I’ve got her. After a quick glance at her ankle, he says he hopes she feels better and takes off.

  “I had a feeling I’d run into him this weekend,” Madison says once we’ve resumed walking.

  I hate the tone of her voice, like she’s been thinking about him and willing a run-in to happen. There’s got to be at least a dozen trails around here and this is the one his team picks? It’s a beginner’s trail. Shouldn’t they be running up advanced routes?

  It sucked seeing her on a date with him last night. Contrary to what I said in my note, she looked hot as hell. She wears a skirt like nobody’s business, and all I can think about is sliding my hands underneath the form-fitting material. I hadn’t aimed to tag along with Mateo to the restaurant, but Teague—who happened to be on the phone with him when I got home—suggested it, thinking it was a good idea because it would be less obvious. I still had my doubts, given I’d planned to hang out with Socks. The four-legged furball has purred her way into my heart and at the end of the day I like petting her. Talking to her. She’s a great listener.

  Teague can be persuasive, though, so I loved on Socks for a minute, then left with my roommate. He made me promise to behave myself. Reminded me that I could not hook up with Madison. I agreed, since logically I know he’s right, and feel like I did a decent job in spite of the confusing emotions taking up space in my thoughts.

  “Can I ask you something?” Madison says now.

  “Sure.”

  “I got a weird vibe from you last night. Do you think Brooks isn’t as nice as he seems?”

  Fuck me. The last thing I want to discuss with Madison is her dating life. It’s none of my business. We’ve tried to keep our personal lives separate, only neither of us has had much luck. Me especially. I want to get to know her better. I want to know things nobody else knows.

  “It doesn’t matter what I think.” If we get into this, I’m going to say something I’ll regret.

  “It does to me. Please, I just need someone to confirm he’s not like all the other jerks I’ve gone out with.”

  “I haven’t met those guys, so I don’t know.” I’d like to bash all their faces in, however. What dickhead treats a girl like Madison poorly?

  “You’re no help.”

  No shit. The second to last thing I want is to help some guy catch the girl I can’t get out of my head. “Dating advice to my assistant isn’t on my list of job requirements.” I adjust my arms, situating her closer to my body to alleviate some of the strain on my forearms.

  She tries to wiggle out of my hold. “Just put me down.”

  “Nope.”

  “This is stupid. My ankle feels better.”

  “Does it really?” I ask sincerely.

  She stops fidgeting. “I don’t know for sure, but if you put me down I can see.”

  “I’ll do it once I get you back to your room. We’re almost there. How’s your knee feeling?” The hotel’s steeple rooftop is in view.

 
“It’s okay.” From her tentative tone, she’s full of crap, but I let it go. “I think I’ll go out with Brooks again if he asks.”

  Why is she telling me this? I thought I made myself clear that I didn’t want to discuss the paramedic, who for the record, is a nice guy and would probably treat her well. Which is why I act like a complete douche and say, “Just be sure he doesn’t find out you only met up with him because his mom paid you.” I’m not proud of myself for emphasizing paid. Mateo mentioned it, and I should have kept my mouth shut.

  Her body tenses, making me feel even worse. “That’s a really mean thing for you to say.”

  “How is it mean? It’s the truth.” Annnd I don’t know when to quit.

  “That you’re using to hurt me.”

  “Fuck, Madison. The very last thing I ever want to do is hurt you. Ever. I’m saying that because I’m jealous. I’m jealous, okay? I want you, and I don’t want anyone else to have you.”

  Shit. I can’t believe that all came tumbling out of my mouth.

  “Elliot,” she whispers. My name hangs between us. Her big blue eyes are heavy-lidded. Her mouth is inches away from mine, and I want to kiss her. No matter the consequences, I want to fit my lips with hers until my kiss is the only one she remembers.

  The trail opens up, the manicured grounds of the resort only a few hundred feet away. I’m two seconds from kissing her.

  “Hey,” Hazel says, jogging up to us. “We got word Madison was hurt.”

  Madison blinks away our connection as I jerk my head back. Our office manager knows everything back at the office, so I should have assumed the same would apply here, or that protocol dictated the guide radio the situation to the front desk.

  “I twisted my ankle and hit my knee is all.”

  “Let’s get you inside so you can elevate and ice it. James has a local doctor on his way to check you out.”

  Madison’s cheeks turn bright pink. “That’s really not necessary. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”

  I carry Madison into the lobby. James is waiting near the fireplace and high-back chairs. There’s a towel and two bags of ice on one of the ottomans.

  “This is so not necessary,” Madison mutters for my ears only.

  “Hang in there,” I whisper. I sit her down on a chair, then step back so Hazel can tend to her. James asks what happened, and once again she tells the story. The doctor arrives and establishes it’s a slight sprain and should feel better tomorrow but to take it easy for the next few days. Madison admits her knee hurts worse than her ankle and when she pulls up her legging she almost passes out at the sight of the blood.

  She turns her head and looks up at me. A deep line bisects her eyebrows; worry clouds her usually crystal clear eyes. She reaches her hand to mine, and I don’t hesitate to take it. If James doesn’t like it, we can hash it out later. The fact is he wants his employees to have one another’s backs and that’s what I’m doing.

  “You must have landed on a pretty sharp rock,” the doctor says. “You need a few stitches.”

  She visibly shakes. I squeeze her hand. I’m not going anywhere.

  “Okay,” she says, her eyes glued to mine. “As long as I don’t have to look.”

  “Not at all,” the doctor says. “I’ll tell you what I’m doing so there’s no surprises, though. Sound good?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes skirt over to James. “Thank you for the special treatment.”

  James nods. “You’re welcome.” He looks between the two of us, but I can’t make out what he’s thinking. At the moment it doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving Madison’s side.

  True to his word, the doctor gives a step-by-step rundown. James steps away but Hazel stays. She tells Madison about the many times she’s been to the ER because her rambunctious twin boys have needed to be stitched up. The stories seem to keep Madison’s mind off her own stitches.

  When the doctor is through, Hazel and I get Madison back to her room. She’s sharing a two-bedroom villa with Hazel and Auggie, so there’s no reason for me to stay. I tell her I’ll see her later.

  Then I land in my one-bedroom villa and take a shower. One guess who I think about while I jack off.

  …

  “To sum up, I hope spending a couple of days away with coworkers, talking, eating, and sharing a couch brings you closer and creates a special feeling similar to gathering with extended family,” James says. “It’s been proven that teams who act like a family tend to have better communication, trust and appreciation for one another, and increased productivity. I value each and every one of your personal contributions and the energy you bring to ZipMeds. Thank you.” He smiles at everyone in the small conference room. “Now I’m going to turn things over to Hazel, who has an exercise planned for us.”

  “Thanks, James. And I think I speak for all of us when I say we’re honored and proud to be part of your company.”

  I applaud my agreement along with other clapping and verbal praises. When I quit my corporate job before having other employment lined up, I was worried I’d made a mistake, but it turns out it was the best decision I’ve ever made.

  “For this exercise, I want you to separate into your department groups. Go ahead and do that now,” Hazel instructs.

  Madison is at the next table over and I motion for her to stay put. Drake, Drake’s assistant, Peter, and I can come to her. She’s moving a little slower than usual today but insists she’s perfectly fine.

  “On the center of each table,” Hazel says, “are index cards. This exercise is called Worst Nightmare, and I want each of you to write down your worst department or industry-related nightmare. Once everyone has done that, you’ll each take a turn sharing what you’ve written. The goal is to openly discuss your fears and stressors with your team’s support and then talk out steps that can be taken to solve the issues or at the very least help prepare you for worst-case scenarios. Any questions?”

  I have a question. Can I sit this one out? My worst nightmare is someone discovering I want to have slow, blow-her-mind sex with my assistant. And there’s no fucking way I’m sharing that. I know how it ends. With my ass kicked out the door.

  “What if my nightmare is sharing my nightmare?” someone jokingly calls out.

  “Then you get to go first,” Hazel says with a smile.

  Drake gives me a funny look from across the table. After he met Madison, he asked me how in the world I was going to keep it in my pants. I told him I had plenty of other options, which was a lie, but he seemed satisfied. This entire morning I’ve been trying my damnedest not to look at her like the sun rises and the moon sets with her. Maybe I’m not doing a very good job and he’s noticed my infatuation.

  I ignore Drake’s attention and pick up an index card. My fingers brush Madison’s when she reaches for one at the same time. Her eyes flash to mine before racing away and I’d bet money sparks shot up her arm, too. Is her worst nightmare on par with mine? I’ve been with enough women to know she has dirty thoughts about me, too. The signs are all there: the hitches in her breath when we accidentally touch, the peeks in my direction when she thinks I’m not looking. I’ve seen her check out my ass more than once.

  I also know this job means everything to her.

  “What do you say we break the rules a little bit?” Drake asks.

  Now he’s got my attention. And Madison’s and Peter’s. Speaking of Peter, if he keeps sneaking glances at my assistant like he’s picturing her naked, my fist is going to accidentally meet his jaw.

  “We know we’ve got the best jobs in the company and the only thing we worry about is keeping our focus metrics-driven, so unless I’m off base, let’s exercise our minds and get to know one another in a different way.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I say. That I’ve already broken the rules with Madison weighs heavily on the back of my mind, but it’s like I forget every goddamn thing but her when we’re alone together.

  “Me, too,” Madison says, seemingly as relieved as I am. I imagine t
his thing between us also plagues her, and I’m mad at myself for making her worry. I’m the senior employee here and I should have listened to my doubts and let her go on her first day. But at the time, I had no idea I’d grow this undeniably attracted to her.

  “I’m in,” Peter agrees.

  “All right. Instead of nightmare, we’ll answer a few out-of-the-box questions about one another. First one: look at the person to your left and write down what animal they remind you of.”

  Drake is to my left, Madison to my right, and Peter across from me. I jot down falcon for Drake. The bird is fast, super chill, and doesn’t sweat the small stuff. At least that’s what my falcon brain is saying.

  “Next look to your right and write down what type of fruit comes to mind.”

  Madison better not be thinking “banana” about anyone else at this table but me. She quickly looks at Peter before writing down her answer. I can think of a few fruits when it comes to my sexy assistant. Apple—they are synonymous with carnal sin after all. Cherry, obviously. Coconut—not that her pert, round tits define her, but they are hard to ignore. Strawberry. Melon. Passion fruit. I settle on writing down peach. It seems the most innocent—Madison, you’re a peach of an assistant.

  “Third and final question, look across from you and write down what genre of music they are.”

  Peter is clearly country.

  I know this is a team building exercise, even given Drake’s impromptu change, but the only answers I care about are the ones that concern Madison and me, so I pretty much tune out everything else.

  She turns the prettiest shade of pink when I tell her she’s a peach. I puff out my chest when she tells me I’m a panther—fierce, strong, and unafraid.

  I can’t let anyone see the truth about her last description. I am afraid. I’m terrified of her and the things she makes me feel. I imagine what my days would be like if Madison wasn’t in them and a shudder runs through me. Then I imagine what my nights would be like if she starred in every one of them and fuck, it’s a pretty stellar picture.