Page 51 of Breathtaking

Here, I’ll just have to worry about my heart.

LENNON

I don’t run away from my problems.

I like to sit on my sofa, play on my phone, and ignore them. Like an adult.

Wait... where’s the couch?

—Lennon’s Secret Thoughts

Isit quietly in the back seat of a familiar dark Escalade. This time, Rome drives us back to Maddox’s house. I’ve been promised Rome and Lucky do not live with Maddox, no matter what Rome says. Threats have been made about keys being given back, and if my head wasn’t splitting with only Tylenol given to me as a pain reliever, maybe I’d think it was funny. For now, it’s just loud. Far too loud.

We pull into what appears to be a private neighborhood with beautiful homes, all on what seems to be a few acres each. The SUV slows and turns down a gated circular driveway, stopping to input a code before the gates swing open, and we follow the curve until a stunning white stone home comes into view.He did it. He built the house he used to doodle on every small scrap of paper he could get his hands on. This man is making all those dreams we used to talk about come true, while I’mwhat? Letting everyone else control my life?

Rome pulls up in front of the house and turns off the car. “You need any help?”

I’m not sure who he’s asking until Maddox shakes his head. “I’m good, man. Just try to run interference with Mom and Dad for me, if you can.”

Maddox gets out and opens my door while Maria rounds the car, seemingly annoyed. “I’d like to say, again, that I don’t like this.”

“Me either Robo-Barbie,” Rome agrees, and I can’t help but wonder if he realizes just how close he is to being taken down... “I’m the one who crashes in the guesthouse,” he grumbles.

She ignores him and turns to Maddox and me. “I don’t think I should be that far away, princess.”

“She’ll be safe,” Maddox assures her, but she doesn’t even acknowledge he’s spoken.

“I was in the room next to yours this morning, and it was too far, Lennon.”

“I know, but no one knows I’m here, and Maddox isn’t letting anyone in his home,” I assure her. Apparently, this ridiculous man has only gotten as far as furnishing one bedroom and the pool house. But I’m told that was more Rome throwing a bed in there than Maddox doing anything, according to Rome. “I’ll be fine. I’m just going to bed.” I look over my shoulder at Maddox, who’s speaking in hushed tones with his brother, then add, “Alone. I’ll be fine. Get some rest and we’ll figure out my plan tomorrow. I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think you’re going to have to go back to Mornea.”

“I’m not leaving.” She grabs her bag from the back seat. “I’ll stay in the guest house tonight if you keep your panic button on you.”

I hold up the fob and smile. “I’ll sleep with it next to the bed.”

“Better hope Meatball doesn’t eat it,” Rome adds, and Maddox grumbles something I can’t quite hear. “Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow. Text if you need anything.”

Rome slides behind the wheel of a sleek sports car parked in front of the garage, and Maddox taps the top of the car like a police officer on a television show right before Rome pulls away, then he lifts both my bags and waits for me.

“Good night, Maria,” I tell her and gingerly walk to the gorgeously ornate black-iron door and stare. It looks just like his old sketches. The ones he doodled on the back of every placemat and spare paper that landed in front of him back in the day. . . Back when we were friends and life was so much more simple.

He lays his palm against a sensor, then punches in a code before the door opens. “Ladies first.”

“Oh, aren’t you just so chivalrous?” I tease lightly, too tired for anything else.

I guess spending a day in the hospital will do that to a girl.

Tomorrow I’ll go back to being mad at him... maybe.

Better yet, maybe today, I’ll try to figure out how to move past the anger and find that friendship again.

That one is going to take a while, but considering I’m pregnant with his child and marrying him, it’s probably a good start.

He steps in and locks the door behind us as I take it all in. The high, arching ceilings. The floor-to-ceiling windows. The hand-scraped hardwood floors. “You really did it,” I murmur. “It’s gorgeous, Maddox. Truly. You should be so proud of yourself.”

“How do you even know it’s my design?” he questions as he moves in front of me and motions for me to follow, leading me through a bare house with very little furniture and up a gorgeous winding staircase.

“Because this is you. All you. It’s every sketch you ever showed me,” I tell him, revealing a bit more than I intended to.

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