Page 21 of Chance Encounter

9

MADDOX

1 Week Later

Pullingthe lasagna out of the oven, I startle and almost burn myself when there’s a knock at my front door. No one comes to my houseever. Placing the dish on top of the stove, I walk to the front door with barely a limp. My ankle is almost one hundred percent and with it wrapped up, I can get around almost like normal.

There’s another knock on the door. Whoever’s outside is impatient for some damn reason. “I’m coming,” I shout.

I swing open the door to find Chance standing there with a lazy smirk on his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” he draws the word out. “I figured you were home alone since I was in town earlier, and I saw your brother at the bar. I thought we could hang out. What do you say?”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I watch as Chance eyes me up and down. “I’d say I don’t know my brother’s code to Netflix.”

He steps forward and runs his cold hands up my chest. Only they don’t feel cold. They light my blood on fire. “I didn’t come to watch TV, Mad.”

“Oh,” I draw the word out this time. “I see what this is. You came for a booty call. Did you not have enough gas to make it to Fairbanks or any other neighboring town?”

“I have plenty of gas, asshole, but I liked what we did when I was here a week ago. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

I don’t buy what he’s saying for a second. “Is that right? Then why has it taken you a week to come by?”

“Because I’ve been waiting to know for certain your brother would be gone.” He pushes his way inside and closes the front door behind him. “Like I said earlier, I saw him at the bar and took my opportunity.”

I round on him and push him up against the door. “And what if I don’t want to give you an opportunity to get off?”

“Then I’ll leave. I’d never make you do anything you don’t want to do. If you say go, I’ll go. But I really hope you don’t.”

I look him up and down. He looks good. Damn good. He’s in tight jeans with black leather boots and a black Henley that showcases the trim and muscular body underneath.

“Not to be cocky, but I don’t think you want me to leave either.”

My eyes narrow as he licks his lips as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. I want to lick those lips and to feel them on other parts of my body, but I don’t give in easily. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Putting his hands on my shoulders, Chance pushes me to the side. “Smells like dinner. What are we having?”

“I’mhaving lasagna. By myself,” I add on since Chance can’t seem to take the hint that I don’t want him here. I am not a booty call, and I won’t start a precedent for it either.

“Do you like eating alone because I know I sure don’t,” he says over his shoulder before he turns around to look at me. “Come on, Mad. One dinner. We can eat and talk, and if by the end of the meal you don’t want me here, then I’ll leave. Promise.”

What is he playing at?

“Fine,” I groan, giving in, and head to the kitchen. I cut a large piece of lasagna for myself and throw on a piece of garlic bread on my plate before taking it to the living room.

I’ve barely taken a bite when Chance sits next to me on the couch. If he’s going to barge in on me, the least he can do is give me some space.

“You’re walking better,” he mumbles around a bite of food. “What did the doctor say?”

I set my fork on my plate in my lap. “Just that it was a bad sprain. Although he did say that he thought it looked broken, but the X-Rays said differently.” I fork up another bite but pause. “I was going to bring back your crutches once I was sure I don’t need them.”

He swats my idea away like it’s no big deal. “I don’t need them at the moment.”

“I’m sure I would have made it a whole hell of a lot worse if I’d tried walking around on it until I could get to the doctor, so thanks.”

“This is good,” he holds up his fork before shoving it in his mouth. “Did you make it?”

“It sure as hell isn’t a store-bought,” I laugh. Those things are absolutely trash. They don’t even taste like lasagna. This is weird, and I want to get to the bottom of why he’s acting like we’re friends when we’ve never been friends a day in our lives. “What are you really doing here, Chance?”

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