Page 4 of Tender Offer (Chance at Love #3)

Madison

T he melody to “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” stirs me out of a dreamless sleep. I reach across the duvet that’s swaddling me in warmth to search for the source of the upbeat anthem echoing across the room.

Vail is a special kind of cold, one New York never prepared me for. My cute winter outfits didn’t stand a chance, which is why I kept my butt inside. January is Januarying here.

I swipe the phone off the nightstand and draw in a deep breath to prepare for Tammi handing me my ass. “Hel—”

“How’d your little dinner date go, Ms. My Best Friend’s Wedding ?”

A groan seeps into a yawn when I look at the screen. “This couldn’t wait? It’s six a.m., Tam.”

She clicks her tongue. “First service doesn’t start until nine here. I have time.” Her voice holds no shame about our two-hour time difference. “So, how did it go?”

A laugh slips out when I replay Terrence’s apology. He didn’t want to hurt me, but I knew where last night was headed once we bypassed the restaurant for the bar.

He was back with Justice, and I was left figuring out why I put myself in this situation to begin with.

“I didn’t chase anyone in a bread van,” I say and lie back to inspect the beige ceiling.

“At least you’d have something to snack on while trying to break up their marriage,” Tammi snaps.

“Where’s your grace, First Lady?” I soothe the burn over my chest at the shot fired from Detroit. Cheaters are awful in my book, but here I am acting like a pick-me girl with no home training.

“You get what you get before my coffee. The first lady hat doesn’t go on for another forty minutes,” she says. The hardness in her tone softens. “Seriously. You okay?”

“You were right.”

“Of course I was.” She chuckles at my snort. “How’d it go?”

I tap the screen for speakerphone. “We met for drinks at the bar instead of dinner. Terrence said we needed to talk. Then he apologized and told me he loves his wife.” I shrug. “You called it. I should’ve listened.”

Tammi warned me not to go after him. He only asked me out to tell me he still loves his estranged wife. Deep down, I knew it was coming. All of our run-ins were my desperate attempt to bring us together. Terrence showed me more than once I was never a priority.

“Maddie.”

“Don’t.”

“He’s meant for his wife. Let go.”

I huff out a laugh. “Oh, I got that loud and clear.”

Nothing is a blow to the ego like your crush telling you he only kissed you because he saw the woman he actually wants with someone else.

What we shared in the back of the theater during movie night felt like the start of a new chapter.

Instead, it was the end of a saga. I’m not the star of this love story. I never was.

Tammi is silent. She hasn’t pulled a single punch since we shared an apartment during our study abroad trip to Paris.

She was only there for the summer, but we’ve kept in touch over the years.

Aside from Kojo, she’s my only friend. Someone who doesn’t use people to climb social ladders and never hesitates to call me out from a place of love.

“You’re someone’s choice, not an option.” Her voice cuts through the silence. There’s no edge or playfulness in her tone. It’s gentle but loud and clear.

The feelings I harbored aren’t a secret.

Tammi might be a pastor’s wife, but she has Love the sound of his voice will be my undoing.

My face burns in remembrance of how effortlessly he discarded me. I’ve allowed enough people to toss me aside. It stops today.

No dating or exes.

I snatch the domed plate from his hands and slam the door in his face.

I don’t trust what I’ll do if he calls out to me.

The temptation to slap him and the desire to crush my mouth to his battle it out as I run back to the bedroom.

There’s nowhere to hide. The floor I’m on is too high up for me to go out the window.

I’d sooner wear off-brand face cream before anyone would catch me scaling the side of the building.

What the hell is he doing here?

Who let him out of the house looking that fine?

Life isn’t just unfair, it’s playing in my face. It’s like God took every one of Preston’s features I fell in love with, made them finer with each year, and dropped him off in the hallway.

He’s seconds from glamouring away my dick drought. I’m searching for an exit strategy that doesn’t require me to go through the front door. If I wasn’t already contemplating therapy, seeing him would have me on the couch in no time.

Preston is here. In Vail.

Another knock rattles the wooden barrier between past and present.

“Can we talk?” His voice is a low, smooth timbre.

I tell myself it’s okay to ignore my desire to open the door and the echo of his longing. I can grab my things and walk out without a second look. I’m fifteen years late to repay him with the sting of rejection.

“Please, Puff.”

Every reason why I should pretend Preston isn’t standing in front of my hotel room dissolves at the pet name he called me during the months we shared in Paris.

Before everything fell apart.