Spare Me

Chapter 12

T he next morning Maddy woke up with doubt gnawing at the pit of her stomach. Alex had been so nice the night before, so kind and understanding. But what if he was just trying to be nice? What if he was worried about being associated with her in case it came out in the press? Thinking to continue her panic spiral via doom scrolling, Maddy grabbed her phone from the nightstand and was surprised to see a text from Alex.

Mr. Martini

How are you this morning? Last night was intense.

I hope you haven’t managed to convince yourself that I’m never going to talk to you again

Because you’d obviously be wrong

How does he do that? Maddy thought to herself. It’s like he’s a goddamn mind reader!

Of course I didn’t do that. Obviously not…

Mr. Martini

Uh huh, ok, right.

I was wondering if you’d like to go on a walk with me today?

Maddy’s brow furrowed. How could they possibly go on a walk together without every tabloid photographer in London descending on them? She started to type a dubious reply when his next message came through.

Mr. Martini

I know what you’re thinking. No, not in public. We’ll be safe from the press, I promise. What do you think?

Well, if you’re sure we won’t be seen, that sounds good.

Mr. Martini

I have a plan. I’ll pick you up in an hour. Dress warmly. It’s going to be chilly today.

Thanks, DAD!

Mr. Martini

Daddy kink is definitely not my thing, sorry, Mads

Maddy felt her cheeks flame. She truly hadn’t meant to take the conversation in that direction, but despite her best intentions she found herself imagining what Alex’s kinks were. And what it might be like to experience them. He’d been pretty adamant during their movie afternoon about his sexual partners being thoroughly satisfied, and even though she’d given him a hard time about it, she had to admit she believed him. And couldn’t deny that she was curious.

She slipped into fleece-lined black leggings and a cream, cable-knit tunic sweater. Standing in front of the dresser at the foot of her bed, Maddy pulled her hair back into a high ponytail. As she replaced her brush on the dresser and glanced at her reflection in the small mirror, her eye was drawn to the chain that had hung around her neck twenty-four hours a day for the last eighteen months. Taking a deep breath, Maddy pulled it out from under her sweater. Evan’s dog tags hung at the end. The officers who had come to notify her of his death had handed them to her on their visit, and she’d hung the chain around her neck instinctually, unthinkingly. At first she’d wanted to keep from losing them. She’d offered them to Evan’s mother, but her former mother-in-law had insisted that Maddy should be the one to keep them. Had said that Evan would want her, his beloved wife, to have them. She’d gone on and on about how much Maddy had meant to her son, said things that would have been lovely and moving in any other context, but that only served to sicken Maddy. Nauseated by the guilt that ate away at her. And so she’d kept wearing them. Her own personal albatross. A constant reminder of the man who’d made the ultimate sacrifice for his country, even as she prepared to leave him.

Until the previous evening, she’d never told a soul the full story. The whole truth. And so she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that she suddenly felt lighter. That unburdening herself to Alex and having him not only accept her, but embrace her, validate her, might feel good. She still wasn’t fully convinced that she deserved the wholesale absolution that Alex had offered her. But it had convinced her that she was allowed to at least consider moving on .

She reached behind her neck and unclasped the chain for the first time since she’d put it on. Holding the flat oblong metals in her hand Maddy was almost surprised by their small size and slight weight. She’d allowed them to become such a hefty burden over the months. She swallowed a lump in her throat and blinked back a few tears as she coiled the chain on top of the tags and slipped it into her top drawer. I’m sorry, Evan. I hope you understand . Taking a deep breath, she reached down to grab the boots she’d picked out and headed down to find coffee.

When Alex and his driver arrived forty-five minutes later, Maddy was more curious than anything else. “Good morning,” Alex said, exiting the car to greet her with a European kiss on the cheek and a hug. Was that hug lingering? Or was it just in her head? “We’re going to be in the car for about forty minutes,” he said, “just a heads up in case you have any, er, needs you need to attend to before we go.”

Maddy laughed, “I just went to the bathroom, Alex, but thanks.”

“Alright, then, let’s go.” He opened the back door of a forest-green Range Rover with heavily tinted windows and closed it for her before going around to the other side and buckling himself in. “All set, thanks, Graham,” he said to the driver, and they headed out into the quiet Sunday morning streets of London.

Maddy heard a noise from the trunk, and she turned around to see Bertie on a leash attached in the back. “Good morning to you too, my little friend!” she said, smiling at him, and reaching across to scratch his ears. The car was sumptuously appointed, enveloping her in the aromas of leather and coffee. Looking down, she noticed that in the arm rest between the two seats in the back, there were two to-go cups of coffee, as well as a small packet of what looked like pastries.

“Is this for me?” She asked, gesturing to the cup closest to her.

“I didn’t know what your coffee order was,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “So that one” —he gestured to the one closest to her— “is a flat white, and this one”—nodding at the other—“is a mocha.”

“Yum,” she said, smiling at him. “Which one do you want?”

“Lady’s choice,” he demurred.

“Well if you really don’t mind…” She reached over to take the mocha. “I rarely actually order these for myself, but I do love them,” she said, smiling.

“What do you usually order if you’re depriving yourself of chocolate?” Alex asked with a teasing smile on his face.

“Either a latte or a flat white,” she said with a shrug. “Feels healthier somehow,” she added by way of explanation.

“You deserve a treat from time to time, though.”

Maddy’s cheeks flushed. She wasn’t sure why him telling her that she deserved a treat made her insides go all gooey, but somehow it did. Redirecting the attention away from herself she asked, “What’s your coffee order?”

“If I’m at home half the time I just raw-dog an espresso shot for efficiency’s sake. If I’m ordering out, usually a latte or a flat white. But something told me a sweetheart like you might have a sweet tooth.”

Maddy rolled her eyes. “That was so cheesy.” But she felt her cheeks heating anyway. “Do I get to know where we’re going now?”

“Windsor,” he replied. “Of course there’s the parts of it that are on display for the public, but there are also big sections of the ground that are private for family use. I like to go out there for a ramble when I can. Good for clearing the head.”

“Sounds great,” she said. “I know London has so many lovely parks, but I really haven’t taken advantage of them much at all.” She’d largely kept to herself since arriving in London, preferring the privacy of Winfield House to risking going to more public areas of town and risking being seen.

“Maddy, I had seen that picture, but I don’t think it’s as ubiquitous here as it is in America, and I definitely don’t think Britons would recognize you out of context. Has anyone recognized you since you’ve been here?”

“ How do you do that?” she demanded, shifting in her seat to face him. “It’s like you’re a mind reader or something!”

He shrugged. “I think we just understand each other. Don’t forget, I’ve escaped to faraway places to avoid being hounded by the press too.”

“I suppose you have,” she said, sipping at her coffee.

They lapsed into companionable silence, drinking their coffees and snacking on the scones Alex had brought with him. “How much time do you spend in Windsor?” she asked finally.

“Eh, not too much,” he said. “I was there more often when I was a kid. My parents knew that it was easier to shield us there, so we spent a lot of weekends there, and then, especially once I started at Eton, I was there all the time. But there’s really not much to do there, and all of the work to do is in London, so I mostly stay in town now. My parents still go out for weekends, so sometimes I’ll meet them for dinner, but I’m still trying to get settled in my new place in town.”

“You didn’t live there before you left for New Zealand?”

“No, it’s new to me. My brother and I were sharing a different cottage on the grounds at Kensington for a few years before I left, but then he moved in with Hannah and that cottage got reassigned to some distant cousin, so they moved me into my own place when I finally came back.” He paused to sip at his coffee. “I mean, it was mostly done and everything before I got there, but I’m still getting used to it. And there’s Bertie to consider, of course, too. The last royal dog who spent much time at Windsor ate a priceless antique that had been a gift from Belgium, so people are a little nervous about having a puppy around.”

Maddy laughed. “I guess that’s a fair concern when you have that kind of stuff in your house.”

“One of the many hardships of my life,” he agreed drily.

Graham drove through a set of large stone and wrought-iron gates into the private part of Windsor’s extensive grounds. Alex explained that most of the five thousand acres of Windsor’s Great Park was open to the public for recreation, but that the family maintained a small portion of the smaller Home Park for their own private use. Graham stopped the car under a large oak tree that still clung to the last of its vibrant yellow leaves.

As Maddy stepped out into the chilly November morning, she was struck by the bright color of the lingering foliage against the slate gray sky. Although the top of the imposing Round Tower was visible over the rise behind them, the castle thronged with tourists felt quite distant. The only sounds around them were the creaking of trees in the light breeze and Bertie’s snuffling as Alex let him out of the Range Rover on his leash.

“Shall we?”

“Sure,” she said, falling in next to him with a shy smile.

They strolled in companionable silence for a while as meadows studded lightly with trees gradually became more densely wooded forest, pausing from time to time for Bertie to investigate a smell here, an exotic-looking mushroom there.

“So what was it like growing up here?” Maddy asked, her eyes sliding in his direction .

“Like I said, we mostly came here on weekends. When I was younger we’d drive out from the city when my parents could get away, and then when I was at Eton I’d come out to get away from school and have a decent meal.” He walked a few steps further then paused while Bertie raised his leg towards a tree. “But it was nice. Even though it was still living in a literal museum, it felt like an escape. My parents were able to relax a bit more. It felt like there was less scrutiny.”

“What’s your family like?”

Alex paused, looking at her. “I mean, you know what they do for a living…”

Maddy rolled her eyes. “Okay, look. I’ve seen pictures of your parents, but I know nothing about them.”

“You wound me!” he said, clutching at his chest melodramatically. Smiling at her, he continued walking, tugging at Bertie’s leash slightly to pull him back towards the path and away from a squirrel in the distance. “Okay, fine. What do you want to know?”

Maddy sighed. “You’re impossible. Start with the basics. Was your dad the king when you were born?”

Alex shook his head. “No. When I was little my parents had offices and an apartment at Clarence House, but we actually lived out here more or less full time when Ben and I were very small. At a cottage over there called Frogmore.” He gestured behind them, beyond the castle. “My dad’s mum passed away when he was a teenager, so I never knew her, but my grandfather was alive until I was seven and Ben was twelve.”

“What was he like?” Maddy asked, prodding gently.

“I mean, he was very much of his generation. Not particularly warm, but I remember the way he smelled like the tobacco he smoked and the peppermints he always had on hand to try to cover up the tobacco smell. He taught me to play cribbage one summer at Balmoral and then would always try to make time for a game when we were together.” There was a brief pause before he went on. “After he died, everything changed. And of course I was sad he was gone. But I think as I got older and looked back, I realized that I also resented his death because that’s when we started being thrust into the spotlight more. My parents had started to take on more duties as he got older, but once they were officially king and queen, they were just as much the king and queen as they were our parents, if not more.”

Maddy hummed sympathetically. She had at least some idea how it felt to have to share her parents with the general public, although to a significantly smaller extent than Alex had. She shifted slightly on the path to avoid a large rock, bringing her closer to him. Their hands brushed together just for a second, but Maddy almost recoiled in shock. Their momentary connection was so intense it almost physically burned. Her breath flew in, a sharp inhale, before she regained her composure and resumed her place on the right side of the path.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, wondering whether he’d noticed. Other than a slight flush in his cheeks he seemed completely unaffected, so she forced herself to push past it. Probably just the cold .

Taking a deep breath, Maddy pushed herself back into the conversation. “That must have been hard,” she said, hoping that the unsteadiness she felt in her voice wasn’t audible. “Suddenly having to share so much more of your family with the nation.”

He sighed. “It was. I think it was a bit easier for Ben. For one thing, he’s like my parents. He’s one hundred percent extrovert. His first real public appearance was coming to meet me at the hospital, and even at five years old, he loved it. The video is super grainy, but it comes through loud and clear. I’ve never been like that.” He swallowed, pausing as Bertie stopped to scratch an itch. “And, of course, since he’s the heir, he was getting special instruction as soon as he started primary school. He’d come home and go straight to lessons on how to greet guests from all walks of life, how to talk to people. Before Grandfather even died, my father had started taking Ben along with him on some of his public appearances and he just thrived.” Alex’s voice was wistful.

“You missed your brother,” Maddy said. It wasn’t a question.

“I mean, I was so young I’m not sure I knew what I was missing. But I guess maybe I did.” They arrived at the end of the path, a small rise overlooking the river and down towards Eton and paused, taking in the view in silence. It should have been a companionable silence. Maddy hoped that Alex was experiencing it that way. But she was distracted by a strange sensation, a magnetic tugging that gave her an almost inescapable urge to take Alex’s hand. To hold him. To comfort him for the childhood that he had, in many of the most important ways, lost. Even if his parents had done their best to raise him “normally,” it had clearly impacted him deeply. She wondered if he realized how profoundly it had shaped who he was as an adult.

What happened next was like something out of a romantic comedy. By unspoken agreement, they both turned to walk back in the direction they’d come. Maddy stole a glance at Alex in her peripheral vision. She found herself wondering what he was thinking, lost in his recollections, and so she didn’t notice the root protruding from the ground in front of them. She would have fallen on her face had Alex not reacted immediately, but as she started to trip, he grasped her wrist, pulling her back towards him, his other hand landing low on her hip as he steadied her. Their bodies were almost flush against each other, and Maddy, speechless, found herself looking into his eyes, mouth slightly open, intensely aware of the way their hips were gently pressed together. The magnetic pull that she’d been aware of at the overlook exploded into a near-frantic buzzing that he had to be able to hear.

“I’m so sorry!”

“Are you alright?”

They’d both spoken in the same instant, their gazes locked together, Alex’s hand still anchoring her hip.

“Thanks,” Maddy said, hoping that the flush she knew was creeping up her cheeks could conceivably be interpreted as wind burn. She went to step back, away from Alex’s steadying grip, when she realized that Bertie, thoroughly enjoying the chaos she’d wrought, had somehow managed to completely tangle them in his leash, which was now wrapped around their lower legs.

She tried to look behind her, but almost lost her balance again, causing Alex to draw her closer with a firm hand in the center of her back. “Stay still,” he said, softly, his mouth only inches from her ear. “I’ll get us untangled.”

Maddy was starting to wonder if she was coming down with something. That must be it. Nothing else could explain the way her breath was suddenly coming in shaky gasps and the burning heat in her cheeks, the unsteadiness in her legs, the preternatural awareness of her surroundings.

After an awkward moment of leash wrangling and corgi coaxing, Alex managed to free them and released her hips, leaving Maddy swaying slightly in a way she hoped wasn’t visible. She found herself… disappointed? That she was no longer lashed to him with a leash? That couldn’t be right. She was just hungry. That’s why her brain was suddenly bereft of the sensation of being pressed against his body, knees to chest.

“Are you alright?” he asked, finally bringing Bertie to heel.

“Yes, of course, fine,” she said quickly. “Let’s keep going.”

Their conversation remained firmly back in casual territory as they strolled back towards the meadow. As they neared the spot where Graham had dropped them off, Maddy noticed that a tartan blanket had been spread under a tree and a wicker basket was sitting on it. “Shall we have some lunch?” Alex asked.

“You arranged a romantic picnic? For our platonic walk?” Maddy asked.

“I mean, there’s no distinction between romantic picnic and platonic picnic on the order form. It’s not oysters or anything,” Alex said defensively. “At least, I don’t think it is…”

“Okay, but picnics, by definition, are romantic,” Maddy countered.

“I beg to differ,” Alex shot back. “If it’s a summer picnic, there are usually bees. And bees are definitely not romantic.”

“Well,” said Maddy begrudgingly, settling herself on the blanket, “this looks lovely. Thank you. Getting out of the city like this was really what I needed.”

“Good.” Alex began to unpack the picnic hamper. He laid out sandwiches, a bag of chips, two small salads in containers, a wax paper package that looked like cookies, and two small bottles of sparkling water.

They ate leisurely, talking about everything and nothing: picnics of their childhood, the books they read over and over (him: On the Road , her: The Song of the Lark ), which Star Wars movie was the best (him: Empire Strikes Back because “It’s iconic!”; her: Return of the Jedi because “Ewoks. ’Nuff said.”), their least favorite foods (him: paté; her: yogurt), and everything in between. When they’d finished eating, Maddy sat up on her knees and started repacking their things back into the basket. After a moment she felt Alex’s eyes on her. She looked up at him to find him gazing at her with a look in his eyes that she was afraid to analyze too much. “You don’t have to do that,” he said.

“I know, but you… ordered lunch and arranged all of this, the least I can do is tidy up afterwards,” she said. Mentally, she wa nted to keep tidying, but for some reason her body wasn’t obeying her brain. She was frozen on her knees, her hands balanced on the side of the picnic hamper.

“Maddy.” Alex’s voice was raspy, barely louder than a whisper as he reached up and pushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear. She had to be imagining that his finger lingered against the side of her face for a moment, but she couldn’t deny that the look in his eyes was something akin to desire. Desire that she knew she shouldn’t return. Couldn’t return. Not without losing her freedom. Nothing good would come out of getting more involved with him.

“Alex, we can’t,” she said, forcing her eyes away from his and finally recommitting herself to continuing to pack up the remnants of their picnic. She visualized the handwritten list she’d made of the plan for Maddy 2.0. He stopped her, taking one of her hands in his. She closed her eyes, hating how much she liked it.

“Remind me why not?” he said, sounding almost pained.

“Well, for one thing, I’m an American, and you’re two horrible accidents away from being the king of England.”

He huffed out a surprised laugh. “Okay, but we have very good security. The odds of that happening are astronomically low.”

His thumb was rubbing the back of her hand in a way that made it hard to remember the rest of the talking points she rehearsed every night in bed to keep herself from thinking about other things… that she definitely should not be thinking about.

“Look, I know I’m not an easy person to be with,” Alex began.

“Alex, it’s nothing about you, it’s just that… I’ve literally only been with one person in my entire life. And I lost myself in that relationship. His career, his service was the third person in our marriage, and I was priority number th ree.” She sighed. “I just… I’m not sure I can do that again.”

Alex squeezed her hand, shifting so that he was kneeling directly in front of her. “I know, darling,” he said softly. Her cheeks flushed at the way he called her “darling.” “We’ll be completely discreet, nobody has to know. I promise the press won’t get involved. I’m just so”—he searched for the right word—“enamored with you. Your strength, your sense of humor, your kindness.” A pause. “How beautiful you are.”

Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look up .

She looked up.

When their eyes locked she knew she was done for. The way he looked at her made her feel things she couldn’t put a name to and knew she didn’t have a frame of reference for. “Please, Maddy,” he whispered. “I think you owe it to yourself to have some fun. When was the last time you did something just for yourself?”

Her eyes slid closed as she swallowed the lump in her throat. There was truth in what he said. She owed it to herself. From what Alex had told her, casual hookups were his MO. He knew how to do discreet and casual. When she opened her eyes again he was still focused on her, his eyes a heady mix of arousal and tenderness, greed and awe. The word “Okay” had barely escaped her when their lips met. She wasn’t sure who had moved first, but his lips were sliding across hers, and she was kissing him back. His kisses were soft but insistent. Maddy felt slightly unmoored by how adept he was compared with how out of practice she was. She forced herself back into the moment, refusing to let the specters in her past ruin what was, objectively, the best kiss of her life.

Her first kiss with Evan had been when they were teenagers. Fifteen, maybe sixteen years old—long enough ago and with so many experiences in between that she barely remembered. It was strange to be having that experience again after so many years. When for so many years she assumed she’d never have another first kiss.

She leaned closer to him, nudging the picnic basket out of the way with her knee as one of his hands slid up her neck to the back of her head, urging her closer, tilting her head toward him. Her hands slid up his chest, sliding under his charcoal gray peacoat and across his shoulders. He was wearing a cashmere sweater, and the softness against her hands paired with his lips, coaxing hers open, was exquisite.

Alex’s fingers had slipped into her hair, massaging the base of her skull gently, easing tension she hadn’t even been aware of. She edged closer to him on the blanket, needing more—more contact, more of his kisses, just more . He sat back, rearranging himself and somehow managed to ease her into his lap without breaking their kiss. He was sitting cross-legged now, her backside nestled in the bowl of his legs. One of his arms snaked around her waist, while the other rested on her thigh. “These pants,” he almost growled, running a hand up the outside of her leg from her knee to her hip, “have been torturing me all day.”

She giggled, breathless. “I’m…sorry?”

His forehead came to rest against hers, looking into her eyes. “I don’t really think you are,” he said with a mischievous smile, running a hand over the side of her head, smoothing back the hair that had come loose from her ponytail as they made out.

He dipped his head to nuzzle the tender place where her jaw and her neck met, making her squeal as his cold nose burrowed beneath her scarf, his lips teasing at her neck. She arched, giving him better access, his warm mouth chasing away the chill from the frosty air. He eased back, his fingers buried in her hopelessly mussed hair while his thumb stroked her cheek. Her eyes sparkled—desire, excitement, giddiness.

“I wish you could see yourself right now,” he said, smiling at her affectionately. “You’re glowing. It’s amazing.” His eyes searched her face for a moment. “Are you okay? I know… I know this must be a big step for you.”

“Alex,” she breathed, “you have no idea how okay I am.” She reached up for him, both of her hands busying themselves in his hair as she kissed him fiercely.

He shifted again, laying her across the blanket and draping his body over hers, one of his legs tangling between hers, plundering her mouth with his tongue. His hand had just started to roam when the sound of an engine pulled them out of their lusty haze. Alex levered himself up, his head falling back in defeat. “He just had to be on time, didn’t he?” Maddy scrambled to sit up, hastily redoing her hair in an attempt to look slightly less like she’d just been making out with the prince of England. She quickly busied herself with closing up the picnic basket. She knew her face must be bright red and hoped that Alex’s driver would think it was from the cold. Her brain immediately started spinning, spiraling as she thought about what he could have seen, what they had done, how risky it all was.

“Maddy, don’t,” Alex said.

“Don’t what? Clean up?” Her voice was a little too bright. “We don’t want to make your driver wait, Alex.”

“No, don’t start overthinking what just happened.” His voice was patient, placating, but firm. “Worrying about what Graham saw. He has the world’s most restrictive NDA, and he’s been with the family for years. He’s not going to say anything to anyone.” She couldn’t look at him. Her gaze was glued to her hands, fidgeting with the handle on the picnic basket.

“We should get moving,” she said quietly. “It’s not nice to keep people waiting, no matter how ironclad their NDA is.”

Alex sighed in resignation and stood to help her fold up the red tartan picnic blanket, before ushering her back to the car, whistling to Bertie, who had been dozing under a tree nearby. Graham hopped out of the front and opened the rear doors for them as they approached. Maddy thanked him quietly and slipped into her seat.

The drive back to London began in silence. After a moment, Alex pushed up the armrest that had held their coffee on the way out and reached over to cover her hand with his, squeezing gently. “Do we get to talk about this, or are we going to pretend that didn’t happen?” Her eyes shot quickly to Graham in the seat in front of her. “Graham, are you paying attention to what we’re saying?” Alex asked, raising his voice.

“No, sir,” he responded, his eyes never leaving the road ahead of him. “I’m trying to figure out how to get myself out of the corner I wrote myself into. In addition to driving you safely, sir.” The last sentence was tacked on hastily.

Alex turned back to Maddy. “Graham writes cozy mysteries under a pen name when he’s not keeping me alive,” he said, by way of explanation. “And apparently some of the time while he is keeping me alive, it would seem,” he added wryly. “But, you see, he doesn’t care what we’re talking about unless it’s going to help him figure out how not to give away who the murderer is too soon.” He paused. “It’s the vicar,” he added in a stage whisper. Maddy let out a puff of mirthless laughter.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “If you want to talk, talk. You’re the prince of England. How does this work? What do we do now? You say we can be discreet, but how long do you really think we can hide this from the press?”

Alex turned so that he was facing her on the bench seat, still holding her hand. “It works like this,” he said, intertwining their fingers. “We go to quiet dinners in private places where photographers don’t go. I take you on walks and picnics on my family’s properties where the public isn’t allowed. I whisk you away to private islands with only your tiniest bikinis in a carryon and feed you exotic fruit for days.”

“Alex, be serious.”

“I am being serious, Mads.” Nobody called her Mads. She kind of hated how much she loved it. “I know the only relationship you’ve ever had went from puppy love to marriage, but they don’t all have to go like that. We can keep it casual—watch movies together, lay low, get to know each other, just hang out. Who knows what I’m going to find to do with myself after the wedding? Maybe I’ll bugger off back to New Zealand and you’ll go back to the States, and it will all be a lovely memory. But at least for now, we can enjoy each other’s company. Please, Maddy. At least consider it.”

She closed her eyes, trying to think. But every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was the way he looked as he lay her down on the picnic blanket. Memories of the way his warm breath felt against her cold skin, the way his fingers combed through her hair, the way his voice had gotten deeper when he’d told her that her pants had been driving her crazy. “Alex,” she exhaled, finally forcing her eyes open to look at him. “This feels like a spectacularly bad idea.”

“I can protect you,” he said, with a self-assuredness that Maddy was certain she’d never experienced in her life. “Please,” he said, looking into her eyes earnestly. “Let me take care of you. Casually.” The last word was added somewhat weakly, but it made her chuckle faintly, all the same.

“Okay, but ,” she added as she saw victory start to unfurl across his face, “I mean it when I say this has to be casual. Low-key, nothing public. This is not a relationship. This is a casual hookup. Between friends. We’re just hanging out, and if there happens to be more kissing, I won’t stop you.”

“And what if there happens to be more than kissing?” He leaned closer, murmuring the words in a low, sultry voice that caused goosebumps to erupt all over her body .

“I…we…” The way he could disarm her with one sentence was alarming and spelled disaster for their whole “keep it casual” plan. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” she managed to get out, knowing that she was once again closer in color to a tomato than anything else.

“Excellent,” he said, smugly resituating himself in his own seat. “I look forward to that very much.” Maddy wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of saying it out loud, but holy mackerel, so did she. From the way he kissed, she had an idea that the ways he might “take care of her” were likely to be pleasurable in a way she’d never experienced.