Two Bar Mitzvahs (No Weddings #3)(8)

She blew out a slow breath. “Wow.”

I grinned, lips pressed into the crook of her neck, grateful she trusted me to take her there.





4


Like a Tetanus Shot


Wednesday morning, I went to my favorite coffeehouse. Madison knew the one. But it was my turf, a place I was comfortable. I spotted her in line.

She hadn’t changed a bit. Tall. Blonde. Fit. High-dollar clothes, not off the rack.

Not wanting to startle her, I swung wide and carefully stepped into her line of sight, as if she were an animal in the wild.

Her eyes brightened when she saw me.

I sighed, ready to get the damned meeting behind me. Nodding over to the empty tables by the window, I said, “Go grab us a seat. I’ll get this.”

She smiled. “Sure. I’ll have a skinny caramel macchiato.”

When she left and the line moved, I turned to the barista. “One skinny caramel macchiato. One quad espresso.” Fitting. Two drinks diametrically opposed. What the hell did I ever see in her?

I brought our drinks to the table and slid hers in front of her before taking a seat.

She pulled the top off hers, then swiped her tongue through the whipped cream, never taking her gaze off me.

I leaned back and crossed my arms, unimpressed. “Thought you were in Europe. How long have you been back?”

She shrugged. “I got bored over there. I’ve been back a little while. Saw a picture of you at Dwight Cavanaugh’s party in the paper.”

Invitation Only publicity. It had brought out Hannah’s ex a few months ago. Guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that Madison resurfaced. I gave her a nod, waiting.

“Look, Cade, I know things ended horribly for us. I get why you’re tense right now.”

“Tense isn’t even close to what I’m feeling.”

She sighed. “I know. I screwed up. I didn’t appreciate you like I should have.”

Another understatement. “No. Apparently you were too busy appreciating many others.”

“I’m here to apologize. I’m sorry.”

“For which part?”

“All of it. Not being faithful. Rejecting you. Hurting you.” Her gaze dropped down to the tabletop while she took a deep breath. “I know this is no excuse, and it’s coming very late, but I found out I have a problem. Well, had a problem.”

Unused to Madison being humble under any circumstances, I waited.

“I—” Her voice lowered, and she leaned forward as she met my gaze. “I am a recovering sex addict.”

Holy shit. I blinked. Not what I’d expected her to say. Then again, our relationship had been highly sexual. Speechless, I stared at her.

An awkward silence stretched between us. She glanced down at her coffee, then up at me again. “It got pretty bad in Europe. Until one of the men I was with insisted I needed help.” An unreadable expression flickered across her face.

“And you got help?”

She nodded. “Believe it or not, they have rehab for sex addiction, just like any other addiction. And afterward, there are support meetings, similar to Alcoholics Anonymous.”

Wow. I didn’t even know what to say to that. My mind spun. So she only cared about her next “fix” when she cheated on me? Couldn’t help herself?

I had to focus to get back on point. There was a reason I’d agreed to meet with her. Two of them, actually. “What do you want from me?”

“I just needed to apologize to you; it’s part of my recovery. You don’t have to accept it.” The corner of her mouth tugged up then fell, her expression sad. When she glanced up at me, she looked hopeful.

Fuck. I sighed. I wasn’t cruel. “I’ll accept your apology, Madison.” Didn’t mean I had to like her. Or suddenly become friends with her.

Or forget.

“Thank you.” Her tone was genuinely vulnerable, a first from her.

I took a swallow of my warm espresso while I carefully considered my next words, struggling with how to broach the other reason I’d agree to meet her. I didn’t want to shut her down after she’d been so open. Like I’d approached her in line earlier, I swung wide first. “What have you been doing since you’ve returned? Are you working?”

Her expression lightened. “Yes. I’ve recently been hired at a country club. Not ours. One across town.”

I took the small opening and leaned forward, staring at her. “Madison, I have to ask this: You called me out of the blue the same day someone messed with our company. Did you have anything to do with that?”

Her brows drew together. “Cade, I want to be friends with you again. I want things between us to be better—maybe even great. Why would I do that?”

Good question. (I had no idea.) The woman sitting in front of me only physically resembled the Madison I remembered. Everything out of her mouth surprised me.

“I don’t know.” I didn’t have another ready suspect. Hell, I hadn’t even let Madison off the hook, but I didn’t have proof. Only gut instinct and suspicion.

She nodded. “So will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Will you be friends with me again? We grew up together. We know so much about each other. It seems such a waste to let all that go.”