/ Zane's POV /
Maybe seeing Maddy stand in the middle of my damn room wearing that skimpy-ass dress I never even knew she had gave me a rush of adrenaline I didn't know I was capable of. Heat crawled up the back of my neck, the room suddenly feeling smaller—thicker—as if her presence alone shifted the air.
Her smell—just as intoxicating as the taste of her—was close to what Allison smelled like, but at the same time unique in its own way. Warm vanilla, faint citrus, and something sharper… something that hit low and hard like a drug I shouldn't have tasted twice.
I found myself being brutally honest with her despite constantly avoiding the topic. The aching need I had for her thrummed in my nerves, messing up my reasoning, like a pulse under my skin—steady, insistent, almost painful.
And I told myself, maybe this isn't as complicated as we made it look. We want each other—but not like we both want to start dating or anything.
I still love Allison, that's for sure, so I knew better than anyone that what I felt for Maddy was nothing more than my fucking dick wanting relief.
Since it's the same for Maddy, there was no need to hold back. She didn't seem like she wanted any attachment as well, which works out.
Although I do have a policy against sleeping with someone you work with since things tend to get messy when business is mixed with pleasure.
But if it's Maddy… something tells me we could make it work. Or maybe it's just me thinking with the thing between my legs. But this is a whole lot better than Maddy putting distance between us just because she's trying to keep her hands to herself.
I'd prefer she had them all over me instead.
The guilt eats away at me though, especially anytime my eyes catch my engagement ring, still strapped around my ring finger, the metal burned cold against my skin, grounding me in a way I hated, and for some reason it was getting heavier by the second—maybe because I knew… this definitely wasn't like me. But even if the question of why I actually wanted Maddy still hangs in the air, I'd decided to ignore it.
For the first time since Allison's incident, I'd decided to let things play out the way they want to without forcing it.
I had just gotten out of the shower and slipped into my sleepwear when Aya poked her head through my door without knocking.
Hastily buttoning up the shirt of my silk night pyjamas, I demanded, "What are you doing?" My fingers fumbled slightly against the smooth fabric, the tension prickling along my spine.
"I couldn't find her. I've checked all downstairs but she wasn't there," she informed me, slipping into my room.
Of course she wasn't there. Maddy was never downstairs to begin with.
"Really?" I furrowed slightly, feigning confusion. "I thought for sure she was downstairs though. Did you check the bathroom when you checked her room?"
And for the first time, I noticed Aya looking her gaze lingered too long, skimming the bed, the couch, the faint shift in the air that still held a trace of Maddy's perfume. Maddy was right—she was onto us.
I bet she didn't bother to check the bathroom because she was certain Maddy was in my room. She also didn't scour through all of downstairs looking for her because that would have taken more time.
I guess she didn't trust the both of us to keep off each other despite the situation that tied us.
It's funny—weird though. If Maddy hadn't mentioned she's uncomfortable with Aya knowing we slept together, I probably wouldn't mind revealing it to Aya.
I'd get scolded for sure, and she'd chastise and criticise my reasoning, but that's about it. Eventually she'd know I'm still gonna do what I wanna do. She'd probably come up with a plan for us to sneak around better afterwards—because it's Aya.
She's a friend who looks out for me, although things were rocky between us at some point because she was uncomfortable with Allison. I could never, for the life of me, figure out how to make them get along.
At least Allison hid her displeasure well. Aya, however, was never subtle about not liking her. She was blatant about it, and that often put me in a difficult situation because they both unconsciously kept making me want to choose between them, and since I kept choosing Allison most of the time, Aya slowly drifted away.
"Aya," I called, arching a brow as I gave her a knowing look while she made a face like a thief caught in the act—sneaky guilt. Her shoulders stiffened, and she stopped scanning the room—finally looking at me."I asked if you've checked the bathroom?" I asked again after she finally turned to look me in the face.
"Um, no… not yet," she replied briskly.
Even with something going on between her and Richard, she still found ways to be herself.
"Then are you looking for something? D'you wanna talk about what's going on between you and Richie?" I intentionally asked because I knew exactly how she was going to react.
And like I thought, she evaded—exactly the way I expected.
"No. Have a good night." She skittered off quickly enough to make me laugh. The sound of her footsteps echoed oddly in the quiet hallway,
I slipped right into my blanket afterwards, but I couldn't sleep because I found myself counting down minutes until Maddy showed up. The sheets were cold, the room too quiet, every tick of the clock dragging out my impatience and after waiting for over an hour, the door finally eased open, the faint creak made every muscle in my body tighten.
I smirked as she walked in wearing a nightdress Aya bought her from the first time she went shopping. But Maddy still liked to dress comfortably—wearing baggy t-shirts and tennis shorts to bed instead. I know because I've noticed the pattern.
But she wore her silk nightgown this time. Of course the robe was fastened, but seeing her like that made my imagination run wild.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Her voice was soft but sharp enough to snap me out of staring.
I was tempted to ask if she wore that for me, but I probably shouldn't get ahead of myself. After all, Maddy didn't look like the type to go the extra mile for a guy—especially if he's just a sex partner. Judging from her attitude towards me over the past few days, she wasn't the type to force anything.
Definitely too stubborn and prideful to want someone who doesn't want her.
With a suppressed smile, I asked, "Like what?"
"I mean like that…" she pointed out before she let the robe loose.
I swallowed hard as she revealed the skimpy nightdress underneath, with a lacy top barely doing enough to hold her perky breasts. I've thought of this before, but she really has a nice body—curved and well-toned.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I denied, even though I was almost salivating at the sight of her. Heat pooled low in my stomach, my pulse kicking up, my body reacting far faster than my brain could.
I wanted to run my hands through the fine lines of her skin, plant kisses on those tight thick thighs.
Fuck—even my thoughts were starting to sound a little depraved.
I felt like a hormonal teenager again, especially since I was starting to harden in my pants.
"Aya just fell asleep. We should head to bed too," she suggested, walking over to my king-size bed and slipping under my heavy covers like she couldn't be bothered by my presence.
So I guess I'm the only one affected by this proximity then?
Maddy had her back turned to me, the space between us feeling smaller and tighter with each breath we shared—and that made it even harder to sleep.
She soon turned until we were facing each other.
Her eyes reflected the dim bedside light, unreadable yet close enough for me to feel her breath brush my lips. The silence—pregnant with tension—dragged on.
I haven't slept next to anyone like this since Allison. And with Maddy facing me with that blank look on her face, she felt like she was right there with me again. Instinctively, I reached for her face.
Her skin was warm—soft—and the slight lean into my touch nearly stopped my heart. "Not tonight, Zane," she said in a hushed, sleepy tone that made me withdraw almost instantly. Because seconds ago, I wasn't seeing her—I was seeing Allison. Wanting to feel her warmth, touch, and scent that often lingered on my bed when she was around.
"Y'know… with Aya around and all, we probably shouldn't—"
"Yeah, I know." I forced a smile, my chest tightened with a guilty chill as I turned away. The guilt gnawing at my conscience made looking at her after what just happened strangely painful.
I fell asleep soon afterwards, and for the first time in a while, I woke up feeling very refreshed—no headaches either.
"Oh, you're awake. Thank God… so can you let go of me now?" Maddy asked, and I realised I was trapping her in my arms.
"Sorry, I—" For a moment, I picked up a faint distant call of my name that had me shooting to my feet.
"Zane!"
The call came again, more energetic than ever.
"Zane!"
Wait—that sounded like Richard.
Briefly glancing at my bedside clock, I rushed out of my room, straight to the living room. The marble floor felt cold under my feet as adrenaline shot through me. Maddy trailed behind me. Richard was downstairs just beneath the balcony.
It's six in the morning, damn it. "What are you doing here, Richard?" I demanded, irked by his presence.
"Aya's in there, isn't she?" His voice trembled slightly. His eyes were bloodshot, breathing uneven, the kind of panic that thickened the air. He looked like a wreck.
Fuck.
Grooming loudly in complaint, I turned to find Aya but she was there—right behind us, her expression cold, unreadable, her shoulders set like she'd turned to stone.
—-----