Page 97 of 21 Nights with Billionaire Boss

“Maddie, are you okay?”

I give him a passing glance. I’ve experienced a rollercoaster of emotions because of him. And he asks me that?

“What do you think?” I eyeball him, then march out of the office.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chance

My hands twitch on the steering wheel. I look out over the newly mown lawn to the front door. A window by the door is lit up, as expected. It’s only eight p.m. She’s still awake.

I half hoped to find all the lights off. Anything to make me turn around and go home, give myself the excuse that she isn’t available.

But that lit-up window mocks me.

I need to talk to her.

Yet, my body won’t move. Oh, I know what to say—the truth. Would she take it though? Would it mean anything to her?

I take a peek in the side mirror. No one’s coming behind me, or coming up ahead. I’m the only one out tonight sitting in the shadows like a stalker, watching her villa.

Pushing out a breath, I let the steering wheel go. I grab the fresh flowers I bought up on my way over.

Dirt crunches beneath my feet as I make my way up the walkway, onto her porch and knock.

She might as well slam the door in my face as soon as she sees it’s me. I know I’ll deserve that. Heck, I’ll take that over talking.

The door opens.

My throat closes.

Maddie stands before me in an oversized t-shirt. Her hair is packed up and away from her face and a sheen of wetness covers her lower lip, like she was in the middle of dinner when I knocked.

“I got you flowers.” I extend the bouquet.

Her gaze drops to it. She doesn’t move for a long time. Then finally, she takes it. “Thanks.”

She’s still not looking at me.

My heart fists. I knew to expect that she wouldn’t accept me with open arms. It still hurts to know it for certain.

I glance at our surroundings, then back to her. “May I come in?”

Her gaze whips up to me. “Why?”

“Just to talk.” I swallow. “I want to tell you everything.”

Maddie bites her lip, contemplation in her gaze. A beat passes and then she steps to the side, still holding the door open.

It should be a relief that she gave me an audience at all, but my stomach twists.

I would have to admit things I’ve kept to myself all these years, but she deserves that much.

Remnants of her dinner sit on a plate on the coffee table. Once the door closes, Maddie skirts around me to pick up the plate.

“Make yourself at home.” She waves at the living room before leaving.

I take a seat on a too-fluffy cushion and wait.