Rival(90)

She glanced between us and then walked toward the doorway as Madoc stepped in. His arms were crossed, and the muscles in his naked chest were flexed. Madoc wouldn’t hit a woman, but right now he looked like he wanted to.

My mother stopped in the doorway and looked back at us.

“Madoc, you’re going to be shipped back to Notre Dame. And, Fallon? You’ll be coming with me today. Back to Chicago. I have the Triumph Charity Event to plan, and you’re going back to school.”

I couldn’t help the laughter that sprang up. I pinched my eyebrows together in disbelief. “Are you from the planet Delusion? What makes you think you can tell me anything?”

“I’m taking you back to Chicago, and you’re not seeing Madoc again.” Her words were sharp, each syllable a threat. “There’s no way I’m going to be associated with him or his father after the divorce. And they don’t want you, anyway.”

“Get out!” Madoc growled.

She shut her mouth and swallowed, momentarily stunned.

Arching an eyebrow, she continued, addressing Madoc. “Once your father arrives, he’ll make you see sense. You won’t see my daughter again, Madoc.”

Madoc charged my mother, taking long, deep steps into her space until she was forced back into the hallway. I followed them, and he came to a slow stop, glowering down at her.

“Make that threat again,” he challenged. “I will put you through a wall to get to her.”

My eyes burned, and I smiled to myself.

He was at least six inches taller than my mother, and I didn’t know if he’d really do it, but my blood rushed hot seeing him like this.

She pursed her lips in defiance before finally deciding to shut her f*cking mouth and walk away.

God, I loved him.

“Madoc . . .” I ran up to him, and he turned just in time to catch me in a hug. I whispered in his ear. “You’re so hot.”

His body shook with laughter, and he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me up off the ground. I circled my arms around his neck and slammed the bedroom door after he’d walked us in.

“We’ve got problems,” said matter-of-factly.

“We’re eighteen. And my father is bluffing.”

“But—”

“Trust me,” he interrupted. “Do you love me?”

I nodded like a kid that wanted ice cream. “Yes.”

“Like love me so much that you wouldn’t even be able to kill me if I turned into a zombie?” he pressed with mischief on his face.

“Yes.” I laughed.

He set me down and dug in his pants, pulling out a circular, black leather box. As he opened it up, I nearly slumped at the sight of what I saw.

A ring, beautifully detailed around the platinum band with a large round diamond in the center and several smaller round diamonds down each side, shimmered in the room’s glow.

When my wide eyes looked up, Madoc was on one knee.

He smirked. “I have an idea.”

? ? ?

“Man, are you sure you’re ready to do this?” Jared leaned on the counter on Madoc’s other side as we signed the papers for our marriage license.

“Don’t be jealous,” Madoc joked. “We can still be friends. Just not friends with benefits.”

Jared rolled his eyes and walked back to the wall of chairs, sitting down with his elbows on his knees.

He didn’t look worried. Definitely concerned, though. Maybe a little frantic, too.

I knew I certainly was. I was nauseous, nervous, petrified, worried, and tense.

And completely in love.

It had taken me all of two seconds to find my voice and whisper “yes” when Madoc asked me to marry him. And even though I had a hurricane of concerns and questions spinning in my stomach, I was completely sure and calm about one thing.

Madoc.

I didn’t doubt him for a single moment, and I never hesitated when I asked myself if I was his.

I was, am, and will always be. This was it.

We’d left our house before Madoc’s dad got home and drove straight into Chicago. I’d barely had any clothes with me, so we headed to my dorm first so I could clean up and grab Tate, and then we’d texted Jared to ditch class and meet us at the City Clerk’s Office.

We needed witnesses and, of course, we wanted our friends there.

I definitely didn’t look like a bride, though. Tate and I had the same style in clothes, which meant I was out of luck for dresses. It was probably for the best, though. I would’ve been uncomfortable.